Social media campaign to find surrogate mother

 I read a remarkable article about a Social Media campaign to find a bone marrow donor on Mashable which got me thinking. The possibilities are endless, I thought. Why not look for a surrogate mother in the same way. '#FindKateaSurrogate'. Accompanied by a twitpic of me and my husband, it could be an extremely effective message board. The army of mummy bloggers out on the net might actually feel they could get to know me through this blog.

My hands would still be tied, however, by the fact that I live in France where surrogacy is illegal. Check the story of the French couple (left) whose twins were denied French citizenship because they'd been born by a Surrogate in California.

So maybe I could do a twitter campaign for the UK only and then uproot my husband and myself back to England so we count as UK residents to be able to apply for UK laws on surrogacy? It's a thought, albeit a fairly destructive one.

I can see why people in the UK opt for the surrogacy clinics in India - you pay more, and you have to stay there for 3 months at the end to get your paperwork, but it only takes 9 months. Or California where you pay, but you earn back fourfold in the time you save looking for a surrogate who 'clicks with you' in the UK.

What strikes me every time I sit back and think about this is that my kidney disease was the tip of the iceberg. It has led to a kidney transplant (that involved dragging my family through the treadmill too), to numerous infections and snotty noses, to an insurance nightmare, to an inability to travel (and so visit developing countries which the organisation I work for supports), to a high risk of cancer, and now to what's equivalent to infertility.

That first day when the doctor in Ladbroke Grove, London, told me I had scarily high blood pressure and I locked up my bike and, in my flip flops, rang my husband to say I'd best go and check it out in hospital, I did NOT think it would translate into an avalanche of problems like this.

Thankfully doctors break the news of each of these delights to you bit by bit and not all at the start. Managing a transplant patient is a test of empathy, patience, humanity, and, I would have thought, must be an absolutely exhausting job. I rocked up all jolly, and 2 years later, I feel I've been battered round the head by Mohammed Ali

Kidney has permanent scarring

Feel like I've got a world record. I've been incredibly successful in failing to keep the kidney I was so kindly given happy and welcome in its new home. I rejected it unceremoniously for a few months, and then I got it nice and infected for good measure. I lost 100 creatinine points in so doing, landing at a round, and nasty sounding 200. That's 30% or so of kidney function remaining for those not in the medicinal know. You don't need to have any sort of degree to know it doesn't sound good.

I had an odd, almost out of body experience as I said, numbed and placid before a matronly consultant I've never met before and heard her say, in French, that I was unlikely ever to have children. They can't say for sure as it's such a big thing to say with just one biopsy that is, after all, not representative of the whole kidney given that they only take out such a tiny part, but it's not looking promising. My 'vascular' whatevers apparently aren't doing all that well after the long beating I've given them over the past 6 months. Whoopideedoodar.

I immediately, being female, a planner, and (although struggling a bit more now...) usually optimistic, have started looking at my options. They are:
1. Nothing. hope I'll defy all medical history and pop out a couple of beeming children, to the applause of all my friends of family. 'What a trooper' they cry. 'Only Kate!' etc... Yah right.

2. I go down the SURROGACY route. A friend's sister is in fact Avey in this blog . This is the surrogacy clinic that manages the whole thing. You have to stay in the country for 3 months when you pick up the child because that's how long it takes for the UK Embassy to administer a passport for your confused child.

3. Adoption... I just see words like 'Conseil General' and find myself downloading spreadsheets and ven diagrams and power point presentations like this one

Hard not to notice the big words, '9 MOIS' or 'AGREMENT REFUSE'.

Given my kidney luck, I'll probably be rejected a nice two years into the process.

And let's not forget the wonderful confusion of us being two Brits living in France.

Am I resident in the UK? Can I apply for Surrogacy UK? If I adopt a kid in France, is my kid then also British or would my own child then be of a different nationality from me?

Obviously, if anyone is in the same position as me (highly unlikely I now realise) or thinks they can help, I'd love some advice.

Feeling more than a little bit lost.

Out of body Antibody

I got out of hospital for Christmas but without any answers.

The docs had forgotten I was on Aspirin so couldn't do the biopsy until next week in case of bleeding.

I asked for a blood transfusion to put some more red blood cells into me (as that's the answer the UK use when they make the same mistake), but they weren't having any of it here in France. I have to wait a full week (it's 3 days in England...) to let the aspirin get out of my system and have this biopsy before knowing for sure what's wrong with me.

My consultant said it was either:
1. One of the two types of rejection - cellular or antibody - (but I thought it was really rare to build up an antibody against your dad?), or
2. a viral infection (takes 10 days to test for that...), or
3. nothing at all and my kidney's just recovering from being infected last month.

If it's the virus, I'm to reduce my Cellcept which lets viruses take hold. I know that because I've had a few skin growths due to those lovely pills already (Another of the 'side effects' no one told me about at the start. You suddenly find yourself visiting dermatologists with nitrogen oxide being blasted at you because of a kidney problem. It's a slight mental leap).
If it's rejection, I down a kilo of steroids and lie shaking on a bed until they wear off

If it's nothing at all, I hope and pray it's not permanent scarring, but is just a bit of inflammation.

And, in case you thought you understood all of that, if they reduce the Cellcept then there's a chance of rejection creeping back.

Round and round the circle like a teddy bear....

Feeling dizzy? So am I

Hospitalised

Breakfast. Oh, and my contact lenses!

Another blood test this morning. I was so nervous throughout the night I didn't sleep. I then tried downing almost 2 litres before 8.30am so I could be sure my tests wouldn't show me as dehydrated but I'm not sure I succeeded. I can't beat it. I drink 1 litre and I pee 1.5l. What to do?!

Verdict: Creatinine at 190. Down 5 points. "Stable", the doctor said, so they could either put me in hospital for 3 days before Christmas or 3 days afterwards. I went for the former. My whole family's here, but at least I'll get out before Xmas eve and can get into Christmas mood instead of worrying about it the whole way through. Passing the port will be my Xmas moto. Pass it....on to the next person. Pass that.....to someone else.

They think it's either dehydration or perhaps the kidney is dilated/enlarged as a result of the infection. If it's not that, they don't know what the problem is. My potassium is really low still (3.2 and has been that for 3 weeks). They don't understand that either.

SOMEONE GIVE ME AN ANSWER PLEASE.

Most importantly, please don't let me ruin Christmas. I couldn't bear it.

Magic Pills

I take a total of 35 pills a day. Thank God I can down them all in one. I'm not squeamish like that. It would take up the best part of 30 mins having to swallow them one by one.

My creatinine's at 196 at the moment. Down from 200 a week ago. What an achievement. Not.

The docs put wagers on my Creatinine going down to its 80s as I lay horizontal post the transplant. It was rather a disappointment, and slightly awkward when it then stuck at 100. My norm back then (sigh) was 100-110. Since June and my bout of rejection, I've been on a roller coaster ride of between 140-240, hopes consistently dashed as week after week, while they may suddenly dip by 40 points and make me feel like the Queen of Bloody Everything, they then plummet and I'm back up at 'biopsy land'.

Any kidney person will tell you, though, that, unless you're on the verge of failure (end-stage renal failure), you could be signing yourself up to the Olympics, or booking yourself on a round the world trip the little the signs show. So, like some sort of sick parallel world, you step off the main streets into the warrens of plastic hospitals where you're yet again informed that, yes, you are very ill. These weird numbers rising and falling appear to dictate my life at the moment.

At present, my danger is very low potassium. I tried eating loads of bananas and chocolate (trust me on this one), but it wasn't enough so they added another 4 pills a day to my toxic cocktail. I also can't seem to stay hydrated - the kidney works overtime, especially at night (very convenient...) so I go to bed 56-57 kilos and wake up 52. Despite taking 400mg of Fludrocortisone to combat that, I'm still a leaky cauldron all through the night. Thank god no-one in my close circle of friends/family is a camping fan. If anyone has an answer to this particular problem, I'd love to hear it.

If my results dont go down tomorrow morning, I'm back in for a biopsy. Having just moved to France (and I'll post about the different systems UK-France next), it's all a little up in the air how they're going to handle this procedure. They're talking about a few days in hospital. Perfect timing then - just as my family turn up for Christmas...
Is my rejection back? Did the kidney infection leave some permanent damage? Maybe the rejection this summer never went away? Am I just going to trickle away to a second transplant with no apparent explanation like I did towards the first one? (they've never diagnosed my disease, just saying it's 'lupus-like'..).