Ouch

Sadness hurts.  It physically hurts.  It settles into you bones and weighs you down.  It stiffens your muscles and makes your joints ache.  I am hurting right now.

We are facing the fact that this pregnancy is not going to last much longer.  Baby A is not going to make it.  People are being very kind and saying there's still hope and that miracles happen but I know that's not going to be the case here.  There are issues with these embryos that make it almost unbelievable that all three implanted.  The fact that I've made it to almost 10 weeks pregnant with one of them is statistically nearly impossible.

Obviously that doesn't make things any easier.  I'm angry with the doctor who made the choice to transfer these embryos.  I can't go into a lot of detail out of respect for the privacy of my intended parents but I will say that I feel like we were all led into a bad situation by a doctor who was either careless or incompetent or ... something I don't have a word for.

So now we wait.  I'm still pregnant and as far as I know Baby A still has a heartbeat but we'll have more ultrasounds to see when that changes.  I'm not going to lie.  This sucks.  This a million times harder than a failed transfer.  I can't even imagine how my Intended Parents must be feeling right now.  My heart breaks for them.  I wish I could do something to ease their pain.  I'm very emotionally invested in the pregnancy but they are having to deal with the loss one, two and then all three of their babies. 

I will be ok. Yesterday was hard.  Today will be hard.  This next week will be hard but I have the support of an amazing network of family and friends and fellow surrogate sisters.  If you're the praying kind or the good vibe kind or the well wishing kind please direct all of that to my IPs who I know are going to need to heal from this. 

Nobody said it would be easy but no one that it would be so hard

If there is one thing I have learned as I have gone through three surrogacy journeys it's that nothing is simple.  You never move forward in a straight line.  It's one step forward and two steps back.

This pregnancy started out with a one in a million shot of triplets.  That was scary but there was relief at the next ultrasound when we found out only two babies still had heartbeats.

Today I had another ultrasound and we discovered that only one of the babies still has has a heartbeat.  The other one looks like it stopped growing a week ago.  Pretty much right after my last ultrasound.

The good news: I saw the heartbeat and saw the little baby wiggling around.  It's measuring right at nine and a half weeks like it should.  The bad news: The gestational sac is only measuring about seven weeks.  Of course it's too early to tell what's going to happen and if there's something wrong.  If there is nothing can be done so we just have to sit back and watch and wait.

I don't have a good feeling about this.  I'm scared that this last little one will not hang in there.  My heart is broken for my IPs.  I never wanted to carry a litter of babies, one is enough.  If I can just hang on to this one little baby I can be happy. 

So for now I wait and I rest and think good thoughts and I look forward to/fear what the next ultrasound brings.  Please think good thoughts too.  Not for me but for my IPs who have so many hopes pinned on this last little heartbeat.

One is the loneliest number

My dad was in the Air Force my entire childhood.  When I was 17 he had to go to Saudi Arabia for a few months.  When he was there be bought me a pair of gold hoop earrings.  I have worn those earrings nearly every day of my life since I got them.

The hoops are nice and small so they don't catch on anything.  They close well so I never worry about them falling out when I shower or sleep.  I never take them out.  In fact, the last time I took them out was the day the twins were born.  I put them right back in as soon as I could that day.

This morning I went to take a shower and I realized the earring was missing from my right ear.  I searched all over the bathroom floor and in the clothes I had been wearing.  Then I searched my bed and the floor of my bedroom.  I looked all over my house and in my car.  I can't find the earring anywhere.

The kicker is that I'm not even sure when I lost it. I have a nervous habit of playing with the earring in my left ear so if it was that one that had fallen out I would have known it right away but since it's the right earring that's missing I have no idea when it fell out.  If it fell out at home I'll probably find it sooner or later but I could have fallen out this weekend while at my cousin's wedding or as I was running around town getting ready for the wedding.  In that case I know I'll never get it back.

I feel just sick about this.  Those earrings were really special to me.  I keep putting my hand up to my ear to play with the earring just out of habit but then I remember the earring is stuck in my dresser drawer just waiting for me to find it's mate. 

I'm so sad.


Three years ago today I remembered being rude.

Today I am sad

I've spent the last 36 hours in three modes: about to cry, crying, recovering from crying.

You know what? Add one more. Hiding the fact that I'm crying so that Jesse won't worry about me.

On Sunday my IFs flew home with The Boy and The Girl so on Saturday Jesse and I went to visit them and say goodbye. We got a hotel room near where my IF's were staying thinking that we would make the night into a nice, relaxing night away from the kids.

The visit itself was nice. We brought the babies Minnesota Twins onesies and a bunch of breast milk \. We went out to eat and Jesse had a turducken burger. I ate ice cream and drank wine and snuggled the babies. When it got late I kissed the babies goodbye and hugged the guys goodbye and made them promise about 20 times to send pictures and stay in touch.

As Jesse and I walked back to our hotel I was feeling pretty good, happy about how everything had gone. When we got back to our hotel room I sat down on the bed and Jesse asked me how I was feeling. I immediately burst into tears. Since then I've been crying once about every 14.7 minutes.

As I've explained to Jesse several times I'm not crying because of regret (because I have none) or a longing to have the babies back (because, no) but rather because I'm sad the whole thing is over with. For the past year the pregnancy, the babies and the guys have been a huge part of my life and now? It's just done.

I miss the babies. I don't have any maternal feelings towards them but I'm not a robot. I carried them and nurtured them for nine months. After they were born I held them and kissed their foreheads and tickled The Boy's double chin and teased The Girl's hair into a mohawk. I miss them.

I miss the guys. They're amazing people and wonderful fathers and I consider myself lucky to know them. Without surrogacy I never would have met them so now when people ask me why I am a surrogate I can add "meeting super cool people" to the long list of ways surrogacy has benefited me. We shared something pretty special and along the way I really came to care about them. Jesse likes them, the kids like them, I like them. They seemed to like me. I miss them.

I miss being pregnant. I miss feeling The Boy hiccuping when I tried to sleep at night. I miss seeing The Girl's arms moving around at the top of my tummy. I miss waddling when I walk and maternity clothes and heartburn and craving chocolate cake. When I was pregnant I got to play a part in building a family. I'm sad that's done now.

Not all the tears I'm shedding are sad ones. There's a lot of sweet to help even out the bitter. The babies are loved and adored beyond reason. The guys have the family they had been wanting for so long. I'm proud of myself for carrying and delivering two big, healthy babies. My family and I are enjoying the benefits of surrogacy, both the financial one and the ones that are a little harder to put into words. I know that as time passed the sweet will remain and the bitter will fade away. I know that part of the reason I'm sadder at the end of this surrogacy than I was at the last one is that the good parts have been so much better this time around. That in it's self is something to be happy about.

But...

But today I am sad.

Two years ago today I played in the snow with my new camera.
Three years ago today Elle had a cookie.
Four years ago today I made fun of people.

For Maddie

I would imagine that by now nearly everyone in the blogging community knows about the heartbreak that has hit Mike and Heather Spohr. Their lovely little girl, Maddie, has passed away.

I have been trying for a while to put into words how I feel about this but I just can't do it. Part of me questions if I even have the right to mourn for this child that I never even knew, to grieve for the loss her parents have to endure. Right or wrong though, I am sad. I am sad because Maddie was a true bright spot in this world and now she's no longer with us. I am sad because her parents now have to find a way to pick up the pieces and move forward after an unimaginable loss. I am sad because no family should have to go through what this family is going through right now.

Someone has put together a beautiful tribute to Maddie (if anyone knows who can you let me know so I can give credit?) and I would like to share it with you.


Maddie's parents are taking part in the March of Dimes this year. Their goal was to raise $3000. As I write this they have raised over $18,000 in Maddie's name. The March of Dimes raises money to improve the health of babies by preventing birth defects, premature birth, and infant mortality. If you would like to donate you can go here and do so. It's a wonderful cause and fitting tribute to Maddie that so much money was raised in so short a time. She certainly left her mark on this world.

Two years ago today people used Google to find strange things.

I've lost my baby

First of all I want to thank everyone who left a comment on yesterday's post. Your kind and thoughtful responses remind me of what I really love about blogging. It's not all vaginas and poop stories. Sometimes it's really about reaching out for help and making a connection with people who care. And even if you didn't leave a comment, thank you for just taking the time to read. It means a lot to me. You and me man, we're like this!

Now that I've got the cheese out of the way, it's time for some sad news. I've got this really awesome key chain that I really, really love. It looks like the naked torso of a pregnant woman. It's clear plastic so you can see right through it. The belly is made of plastic ball filled with water and inside of it floats a teeny baby boy. I love this key chain.

Well, yesterday I went to start the car and I noticed something "off" about my little naked pregnant lady key chain. Her baby was missing! The ball that made up her belly had popped out. I looked and looked and looked but I couldn't find it anywhere. I suppose it could have fallen out at any time when I was running errands yesterday so now there's probably a baby ball laying in the middle of a parking lot somewhere.

My poor naked pregnant lady key chain! Before she looked so lovely. Now she's just a naked torso with a big creepy looking cavern in her stomach.

The key chain has gone from being one of my Top 20 Most Awesome Things That I Own to being one of my Top 20 Most Depressing Things To Look At. This is worse than the time I accidentally ripped the head off my Ramona Quimby paper doll.

So, if you happen to see a little baby ball rolling around could you roll it my way? My little naked pregnant lady misses it.

One more small thing. I'm going to start linking back to some of my older entries. If anything halfway interesting happened my blog on this date then then I'll direct you to it at the bottom of my posts. I won't be sad if you don't click it. (I'm too busy being sad about my naked pregnant lady key chain.)

Two years ago today I lectured you about taking Zicam while breastfeeding.
Three years ago today I showed you a picture of a massive tool.

The manicure

Her voice was soft. "Is it weird for you?" And sad. "Knowing that I'm going to die?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and dark.

Was it weird? No. I had been to the funerals of old men and babies and everyone in between. Death wasn't weird for me. Everyone has to die sometime. Even if that person is my aunt, my friend, as close to me as a sister.

I found myself angry at the question. I had come over to do her nails that day not to discuss her death. I didn't want to be confronted with it like that. I bit my lip to keep from snapping at her in anger and for a long time the only sound was the soft whisper of the file as I smoothed away a rough spot on her thumbnail. I didn't know the right way to answer the question without letting on how upset I really was.

So I lied. "I don't know, not really. I guess I don't think about it that much." I didn't want to admit, even to myself, how often I thought about it.

And I told the truth. "When I think about it though I always think that somehow you'll get better. I know it's not logical or realistic but it's what I always think."

She nodded and then we quickly looked away from each other, both of us blinking back tears.

Five minutes later we had moved past the whole issue and had moved on to discussing reality tv, silly family gossip and memories of the times she had lived with my family.

We were laughing something or other when her husband came in to break things up. He decided I had been there long enough and that I should probably go so that my aunt could rest. I still had two nails left to do but I promised her I would come back soon and finish them.

Shortly after that her health took a turn for the worse. It seemed sort of silly to worry about her nails when she was so full of painkillers that she couldn't even respond to us when we asked her a question.

Less than two weeks after I gave her the manicure my aunt died. At the memorial service I looked into her coffin and saw that her nails were shiny and smooth. All but the two that I had promised her that I would do "later".

I'm still sad that I was never able to finish that manicure.

I don't know if I would have the strength

You must watch this series of photographs. Be prepared, if you have a heart at all you will cry. Be sure to turn on the captions (on the bottom left) so that you can really understand what each picture is about. Painful, thought-provoking and moving.

Sad ....... and something else

I just got off the phone with my mom. One of my uncles, my dads brother passed away today. He is leaving behind a wife, two children and eight grandchildren.

I was not very close with my uncle but I always liked him. He was a nice man who told lots of funny stories. It's so strange for me to think that he's gone. Now when my dad stands around b.s.ing with his brothers at family get togethers there will be one less person in the group. I'm having a hard time picturing it.

I'm not making sense now. I don't like to think about the fact that one of my parents siblings has died. It hits too close to home. I don't want to think about the mortality of people I love. I don't want to face the fact my parents are not eternally 25 years old.

I don't know. I'm sad, I can't think straight.

Shattered

My heart is in 1 million pieces right now. I was clutching onto Joseph telling him that I didn't want him to leave this morning and was so grown up about it all. "Mommy" he said "It's ok! I'll be back this afternoon. You'll still get to see me later today! I'll come home and then we'll do something together*. Now I'm going to go and make some new friends! Mommy! Stop grabbing me and let me put my backpack on! Mommy!"

He was so calm and cool and I was a wreck. Elle and I stood on the porch waving as he and Jesse drove away. Joseph had a big smile on his face and I yelled every last minute instruction I could think of. "Be a good listener! Try at least one bite of everything on your tray at lunch time! Don't pick at your fingernails! Leave your bandaid on your owie! Remember to ask the teacher if you have to go potty! Remember to sign up for white milk for snack time! Unless you want chocolate!" On and on and on until the car was out of sight and I was just standing there yelling random things to the empty street.

Why is this so hard for me? The fact is that I know school is good for him. He really blossomed last year in kindergarten. His teacher this year comes personally picked out by his teacher from last year. When we met her (the new teacher) yesterday she seemed really nice and it seems like she'll be a good fit for Joseph. We also know his IEP case manager because she worked with him during summer school and she's really nice too. So I know he's in good hands and I know how much he loves the social aspect of being in school. So why is it so hard for me to send him to school? Ugh.

I'm going to draw my contest winner later this afternoon. Right now I'm going to play puzzles with Elle and try to figure out a way to keep her from growing up too.

*Despite all his time in speech therapy he still pronounces this as "tah-get-er". I don't care if he never learns to say it right, it's so cute. That, and when he says "hangaber" instead of "hambuger". I love it.

I cannot stop crying

"After I die I will become this mama, this mama right now, crossing the good end of the River Styx with one foot up on the bow, empty mai-tai wrap around my waist, looking off to the horizon and on my way to be with Liam, to feed and burp and pat his rump and coo in his ear, to fulfill my purpose. I am not afraid anymore because I will have a job to do, breasts decades younger and ready for him, heavy with milk."

After this, I'm all out of words.

The lonliest geek

I have no one to go to the Harry Potter book release party with tonight. I need more friends. I can't even get Joseph to go with me.

Sigh.