Can’t Buy Me Baby Love.

Yesterday I had a pity party for one. The stress of last week was just too much. We had family in town, which was awesome, but the fertility side was a little brutal. I felt like we were pushed all over the place, filling out about a 100 pages of paperwork, planning out July for our next IVF and feeling like we were, once again, controlled by this process. I finally lost it yesterday, and spent most of the day crying and feeling sorry for myself. Sometimes, if I actually stop and think too much about our situation, I will cry. I think we all need those days. I am and always have been, a very positive person (thanks to my mama!!) Although our trials have seemed so big, I feel like I’m at a pretty good place mentally and emotionally right now, but geez, yesterday was brutal. No matter who you are, you are allowed to have those days. As long as you can get back up and appreciate what you have.

I had posted the following blog about a year and a half ago, on a fertility site I belong to. Last week, someone found this journal, and reached out to me, saying it’s exactly how she feels. Re-reading this reminded me of how far I/we have come. It hasn’t always been easy and it’s not easy today, either. But we are still moving forward, and that is what matters. If you had told me the day I wrote this journal, where I would be today, I probably would have just shriveled up and died. I am happy that I have taken it one day at a time, and somedays are so much easier than others. This gives you a glimpse of some of my hardest and most bitter days…..

“Can’t Buy Me Baby Love.

Whoever said money cant buy happiness, has clearly never done fertility. That’s what this crazy world has taught me. It’s like I am caught in this never ending game, and I just cannot win. Every single ounce of me is stretched so thin. Every piece of me has been fighting for too long. Life did teach me, that the harder you try, the more successful you can be. Wrong. Wrong again. I have never in my life tried so hard for something. Never. You would think my body and mind would get the drill and understand the game. But it doesn’t. Every single month, that unbearable stab of pain sneaks right into my bones again. It overtakes the whole me. The happy me disappears, and in comes this painful pit. That strong reminder that I cannot succeed. I’ve failed again. I’m a failure as a woman. And, I’m failing at the one thing I have wanted my whole life.

Even as a child, my life was babies. I loved my babies. I would rock them, feed them, dress them and love them. I was so happy as a little mommy. Looking back, perhaps that was the only time I’d get a chance to feel as if I were a mommy. That love was so strong, and I just couldn’t wait to grow up, and have a real baby of my own someday. That’s what a woman does. She becomes a mother. She gets to see her heart walking outside of her body, and love like never before. That’s why us women are here, right? That’s what I thought for 34 years.

The guilt that comes with this process is almost unbearable. How can I be so sad? Why am I so selfish? Why cant I be happy with my life? I hate the guilt. It makes me feel so selfish. I should appreciate what God has given me, but I want more. I want more so badly. Every inch of me wants more. I want to love so much it hurts. I want to see my heart outside my body. I want to make a difference in someone’s life, and be their everything. I want to give life. Is that too much to ask? I never thought it would be, but I’m finding it just may be.

Spring is here. Another season here, and another winter has gone. A time to start fresh. I used to believe that Spring would bring new life and happiness. I stopped believing that after being let down too many seasons. Tick. Tock. Will my season ever come?

I want to stop. I want to give up. I cannot play this game any longer. I don’t want another shot in my stomach or my ass. Talk about humiliating. I could scream if my husband has to pinch my stomach one more time, just to shoot me full of crazy hormones. I don’t want to have one more ultrasound where they tell me that once again my body has failed me, with no emotion. It’s so easy for them to just tell me the bad news. “Better luck next month, hon.” At what point do you stop believing in next month? How many damn months can I be the passenger on this train that keeps derailing? I feel like I’m in the midst of some cruel joke. Am I trying too hard for something I will never have? Should I give up? I cant. I just cant. Giving up would mean that I have accepted this shitty hand of cards. I wont. And, that is why I will keep trying. I want to rock my own baby to sleep at night. I want to be called mommy. I’d pay anything for my baby love. Is that too much to ask?”

My season has yet to come, but I still believe we are on the right path and our season WILL come, in time. FullSizeRender-2


So far I have gotten awesome feedback from my blog! I have/had two main goals for this blog. First, I wanted a way to keep our friends and family informed of each step of the process. We have an army of support, so it seems easiest to keep it all on one forum. So many friends say they want to ask updates, but they’re afraid they could catch me on a bad day etc. So sweet.

My second reason was to spread word on surrogacy and infertility. I told Dave, if I could help just one person through this, I would smile. And, smile, I did! I have had several messages from other women in the same boat as I am. It has been so fun meeting others who know exactly how I feel. I have learned from them so much. On one hand, it makes me so sad that others can related, because I know that void in their hearts, but it is nice to know that we have each other. There is absolutely no way I would make it through this craziness without others who understand.

One of the biggest questions I have gotten is, “How did you ever accept this? How did you come to terms with using a surrogate?” The real honest truth is that, I haven’t 100% accepted the fact that I won’t ever carry a baby. That is a LOT to accept. I feel like it has been a grieving process through the years. I have taken more negative pregnancy tests than I would like to admit. And, every friggin time it kills me to see just ONE line. I stare so intently at those tests, and so many times, I swear I can see a line, and then back to reality. haha. Negative. It still hurts each time I get them. But the getting up has become easier. I guess, it shows that I have a little tiny ounce of hope in my heart. And, I like that. Because hope is really the best thing to keep anyone going.

Almost a year ago, after our first round of IVF, we started to learn that my uterine lining was never going to heal. It would never thicken. No matter what drugs they did. I mean, my gosh, I laid in a dang hyperbaric oxygen chamber for 11 straight days, thinking it would be our miracle ‘drug.’ That was so hurtful seeing that things were not improving. I cried and cried and cried. In the midst of a major freakout moment, a good friend of mine was honest with me. He helped me to see that I had become obsessed with ‘being pregnant’ and that I had forgotten my main goal, and that was to become a mom! How true! I let that soak in for a few months. I literally had every “due date” in America. Oh, this month it’s going to be positive because it’s my father in law’s birthday, Jen’s birthday, Christmas Day, Thursday etc.I couldn’t ever plan anything too far out, because, “I’ll probably be pregnant then.” I believed in superstitions, saw a psychic and held on to anything I could. I was trying to find my hope in all the wrong ways. In the midst of my obsession, I had taken my eye off the prize…. being a MOM! He reminded me that it really didn’t matter how I got there, but that if I wanted to get there badly enough, I could. There are options and mine became surrogacy and adoption. Either way would make me a mom.

Sometimes the brutal truth is what we need. I started to manage my fear by reminding myself that I would be a mom… NO matter which cards I was dealt. The healthy hope came back, and looking back, I can see the shift in my attitude on this. Am I still scared? Absofreakinglutely!!!! Is this the way I wanted my story to go? NO!!! But, I want to be a mom. I want to fill this quiet (haha yes, impossible to have quiet with Dave around, but you know what I mean) house with so much craziness and love. So, my choices were to step up to a brand new game or stay in the game that I continually was losing. From there, I threw myself into countless hours of research and a new obsession of surrogacy. It’s filled my heart with so many emotions, and it amazes me that there are women out there that are willing to give this to a stranger. This is one of the most beautiful things I could ever imagine, and I’m lucky to have this choice.

And so “hope” became my word. My everything to live by. It’s true that the only thing stronger than fear is hope, and we can choose either one. We can choose to sulk in our sorrows, cry over today, and fear tomorrow. Or, we can choose to trust in God, and hope for better days ahead. He does know what he is doing. I choose hope. And, I hope you do. too.