Would-be delivery day came and went, thank God. I spent it with old friends, wrapped in the comfort of familiarity. I didn't know what I'd feel like doing to commemorate where I should have been, and in the end, what I wanted to do was enjoy the day like any other.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Posted by Good Egg Hatched at 8:11 PM
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Most of the time, I'm okay now.
But I miss him.
Posted by Good Egg Hatched at 8:07 AM
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
My due date approaches. I should be a month out from that baby's arrival. I should be huge, complaining about the heat, going for extra pedicures for my swollen feet.
I'm not. Everywhere I look, I see women who are. And there's always an initial feeling of dread when I see them. There was a woman the other day who embodied a catalog-fantasy version of pregnancy. Her bump was perfect, her skin was glowing, her maternity style impeccable. And I hated her for a second. And then, I just thought, the negative feelings are only hurting me. I'm not good at pregnancy. End of story. No -- correction. I was good at it once, good enough. One out of seven of them had the most amazing outcome. And so I'm coming to a place where it's okay -- all of it. This, for whatever reason, has been my hard thing. And it's over now, or at least almost over. Over for my body. We're good, pregnancy and I. We're good.
The other day, my husband and I had the psychological evaluation required to go forward with our surrogacy plan. The therapist asked me about conflicted feelings I might have about missing out on the pregnancy part -- whether I'd be jealous. There was really no way I could have driven home this point hard enough: I. Am done. With pregnancy. Done. The idea that someone I trust is willing to take this on for me? Is amazing. If by some stroke of Grace it all works out, I can't imagine a lovelier idea. It's sort of like starting a home renovation project yourself, realizing you're in over your head, and having a professional come and finish it for you. Do you really care, in the end, that your hands were not the ones to complete it? I think you're too busy enjoying your fabulous new space to care. Too grateful that there are those out there who know what they're doing.
Sometimes I do worry that someone out there was trying to tell me something -- five consecutive failed pregnancies, one of them a truly traumatic loss. But it's hard for me to reconcile that with the existence of four frozen, screened embryos and a friend generous enough to try to grow one for us. Why would those things not be the "sign?" I don't think I even believe in signs anymore, either way. Nothing amazing would ever be done if people followed signs. Every big thing that's been achieved had some obstacle before it. Otherwise it wouldn't be a big thing.
I have hope. At this stage of the game, it's all I can possibly ask for.
Posted by Good Egg Hatched at 11:20 AM
Monday, June 2, 2014
Posted by Good Egg Hatched at 10:23 AM
Saturday, May 10, 2014
I don't trust anyone like I trust a mama. There are exceptions, sure -- turn on the evening news and you'll find at least one -- but for the most part, having a child, whether it comes from your body or not, awakens something in you. For me, I feel more in touch with both the most enthusiastic joys and deepest sorrows of life. My heart is bigger, more encompassing, than before.
At a carnival today, I watched my little H walk up the stairs of this huge tower-height slide by himself, and I thought my heart would beat from my chest. I knew I had to let him do it, but every muscle in me was poised to run up those stairs and carry him back down. I felt sort of panicked, until I saw another mom go up with her younger child. Having a mama up there, even if it wasn't H's own, just helped me know he'd be ok. Because as moms, we look out for other kids. It's not even like an unspoken pact -- it's instinctive.
At the same carnival, I saw a mom I've gotten to know casually in my new town. She's lovely -- the friendliest girl you'd want to meet. I know she just had a baby, her third -- I remember her telling me she was pregnant last summer. I remember because of the way she told me, casually, confidently, yet with an excited sparkle in her eye. I remember feeling envious of her way about it, knowing I would never feel anything but anxiety at telling someone I hardly knew that I was pregnant. And I felt envious today, seeing her already looking so thin, back to normal, feeling light and happy after adding yet another child to her family. And it felt awful, because I hated having any kind of negative feeling toward her, because she is so lovely, and because I loathe the feeling of wanting something someone else has when I know I am so blessed, I know I have so very much.
Tomorrow, I'll celebrate another Mother's Day, and it will be bittersweet just like last year's, when I was recovering from my last loss. Tomorrow I'll be yearning for my missing baby, still feeling beaten up and tossed around. But I'll also be so grateful, because in a way I feel even more authentically a mother this year. It's as if losing another baby has somehow brought into relief my solid, card-carrying membership in this amazing club of women who wipe noses, dry tears and can't afford to let life bring us down for long, because our little people depend on us to carry on.
To all the moms, I am in awe of you, and so grateful for the wisdom I steal from you every day. To those who are fighting to bring home babies, I'm fighting for and with you. I promise you -- it is worth it.
Posted by Good Egg Hatched at 11:54 AM
Thursday, April 24, 2014
The bleeding after this second procedure stopped quickly (I should have known when it didn't after the first). But it started again on Tuesday afternoon, since I'd been on an estrogen-progesterone overlap since the first D&E, for the Asherman's. Because even if you don't want another pregnancy, you don't want Asherman's filling up your uterus, either. I need to talk more about the medical aftermath of the bad ultrasound -- I've been wanting to get it out so I can start talking about the future.
Posted by Good Egg Hatched at 9:25 AM
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
It's a fight to keep above the current.
Progress is being made. Honestly the other night I was so terrified I'm finding more gratitude in small moments.
But there are traps everywhere. Let me look for a fun beach hat for the summer, I thought tonight in a sudden burst of optimism. A search on Pinterest for "beach hats" yielded a woman sitting cross-legged on the sand, adorable beach hat on her head, huge baby bump in her middle. That should have been me. How can I not be sad about that?
The whole thing is starting to feel more abstract. At first it seemed like a dream that he was lost, and now it almost seems possible the pregnancy itself was the dream.
Early on, there was a pregnancy fair at my local hospital. It felt a little bit like tempting fate, but we went mainly for the maternity floor tour. When we arrived, they handed H. a "big brother" sticker, and my first thought was that if something happened, that would be a moment that made me cry. That is true.
Upstairs, during the L&D tour, as I asked the nurse questions, I felt like an actress in a play about someone expecting a baby. It felt like I was asking for someone else. I thought it seemed silly, like make believe.
Turns out, I was right about that too.
Posted by Good Egg Hatched at 5:49 PM