More often than not I’ve found that silence is my best form of therapy. I’ve come across this yet again. I’ve been silent partly because I didn’t know what to write and partly because I needed to keep it inside for just a bit longer. Ronen and Gadi needed to make the decision to use a different surrogate based on the multiple failures in our program. The doctor has indicated it had nothing to do with me as well as Ronen and Gadi indicating it would take them years to find another match as incredible as ours. Instead of letting the hurt out, I just kept it close to my heart where I still owned it. I had control over my emotions when everything was locked up inside and I didn’t need to talk about it.
Last week, I needed to be re-screened to be a surrogate and part of the process is a psych evaluation. Everything went quite well (at least I think they did) and the doctor asked me the same questions as previous evaluations. It wasn’t until she indicated I should be mourning the loss of my fallopian tube because I had lost a part of me that I became more aware of the piece that was really missing from me. I did nothing short of beg the surgeon to take both fallopian tubes when she asked me if I had any questions prior to surgery. I tried to convince her that there was no way I was going to wake up one morning and be like “Whoops! I forgot to have another child” considering Jayde is now closer to 15 than 14. I’ve known since she was born that one isn’t the loneliest number but the perfect number of offspring for me. That I would commit the rest of my child-bearing years to providing it to anyone else wishing to have one, or two, or three or whatever number is their perfect number. I knew I wouldn’t be mourning the loss of a stupid tube that caused another failed attempt for Ronen and Gadi, that I was cursing it under my breath because of what transpired. If she would have only taken both tubes, I would never run into this issue again; granted the chances are really slim, but still a possibility.
While sitting in the office for the psych evaluation the ache started to set in and I knew what was missing from me, it wasn’t a fallopian tube, it was Ronen and Gadi. I remain in constant contact with them but it’s not the same. Instead of nearly daily emails, they’ve dropped off to just about once a week. Instead of laughing on Skype with them, I’m left wondering if they will find a match that fills their needs, that produces a viable pregnancy when it was the one thing I wanted to do more than any other. I also wonder if they will be happy with their new match or if they too will be thinking of the things that I’m thinking of. I know it takes a remarkable person to be a surrogate so there is not a chance that they will end up with someone who isn’t up to the standards that I believe a surrogate should have. In stating surrogates are remarkable women, I don’t feel that I fall into the “remarkable” category. I feel that I am just normal doing the right thing. The right thing for me and without a doubt, the right thing for the intended parents. Doing the right thing doesn’t seem remarkable to me.