Everyday I wake up and think “today is the day I will be able to write my final post.” In reality though, I can’t make that final entry. I worked so hard to get to handing a baby over to indented parents. I researched endlessly on what would happen as far as the legal involvement. I researched the best place for the intended parents to stay while visiting the snowy tundra of Fargo. I planned out a party for the guys so they could feel the love and support I had from friends and family through all the YEARS of failure. I’ve used up every minute allowed in my mind to focus solely on getting through this process successfully that I forgot to figure out how I was supposed to feel after the end was really The End.
I never really thought that one child would be The End though. I always thought I would bless Ronen and Gadi with a second child and then I would have enough time to help one more family. I had until the age of 42 based on Dr. Doyle’s assessment of my uterus. He told me it was beautiful and made for carrying babies. Is there really any doubt on the perfection of the babies from my uterus? I mean really; look at the perfection I have in Jayde and look at the perfection in Guy! How anyone could create perfection twice really baffles me but I will just accept it that it is….no questions asked.
The End approached without me being able to protest, question, whine, complain, ask nicely or demand a second opinion. In fact The End came even before Guy was born. The second week of January when I was put on full bed rest, The End laid in bed with me. Me not knowing I had something creeping into my body preventing another beginning. The End was prominently there when I was unable to move my legs to get out of bed. The End was screaming at me when I needed someone’s help to get off the toilet because the weight of my body was too much for me to balance on crutches for the seven steps back to my bed. The End was hanging out with me during every ultrasound to ensure Guy was perfectly safe. The End was there as I was crying in pain in the car knowing I needed to be transferred back to a wheelchair so I could get back inside and back into bed. The End had a way of laying on my pillow at night to catch my tears because I felt like I was failing.
I felt like a failure because I was only able to give someone ONE child in the course of nearly seven years. The End was even there before the beginning had begun. Somewhere deep inside The End had determined that I would sit through all the surrogate socials as the only person that was unable to get pregnant or stay pregnant. The End had decided that Guy would be the only one before any of us were able to determine when the beginning would actually be a beginning. It’s so scary time after time seeing negative results on a pregnancy test. It begins to wear a person down when all they see is “Try Again!”
In all of my researching, in all of my searching for answers for years before I even signed up to be a surrogate. Added to all of the years I spent trying to find an answer after I signed up to be a surrogate, Jayde turned 12, then in a blink of an eye she was 15, as she’s nearing 17, nearly an adult; all she knows is me trying to have a baby for someone else. All she’s able to remember are shots and pills and doctor visits and IVF and technical terms that normally don’t visit everyday conversations. She knows that plans were put on hold just in case I needed to be implanted. That celebrations turned into disappointment and that many times her needs weren’t my priority because I needed someone to take care of me. These are the times that I wish I could provide a bonus to her. Whether it be a day of something exciting to a day of nothing that ends up being memorable. I’ve apologized to her for always needing to get to The End and that being my primary focus but she has never once asked for me to do anything different from what’s been done.
As The End took hold in my body, it started to eat away at the bone in my hips. I’m sure that it was hungry for something and me trying to have a successful pregnancy wasn’t feeding the ravaging beast. As it gnawed and chewed and tore and scraped, it took my hip bones with it. Who knew that AVN was even a possibility during pregnancy when I was of normal weight, not a smoker and never used steroids. Who knew that something could be The End when it was never heard of in my case?
Guy was born healthy and happy on March 5. I was in terrible pain because of my hips but the emotional pain was more than I could handle. As we drove to the hospital on the day that was supposed to only bring happiness, I was hurting because I knew it would be the last day I would ever feel the movement of a baby, it was the last day that I would ever have a pregnant belly. It was the last day that I would wear hideous maternity jeans.