Hot Mess

I swear I just can't handle today.  I hurt.  I hurt bad.  I'm crying every whip-stitch.  It's just one of the bad days.  I enjoyed a few hours of yesterday and maybe I will enjoy a  few more tomorrow.  I'm getting through today by dint of putting one foot in front of the other, and when I can't do that, I just breathe minute by minute.  It makes for a long day.  An exhausting day for sure. 

I've been down this road of heartache so often I've worn out a path.  Now I have another companion as I walk.  Kelly and I are holding together and stumbling together.  Though we have distance between us, I feel her here.  I feel her hand in mine and her shoulder propping up my wearied head.  I feel her in my arms as she grieves too. 

It is hard to be physically away from Matt too.  I didn't feel this as strong the other times.  Even when I'm exhausted and want to be in bed, I curl into him on the couch.  When I feel his arm drape across the length of my body I feel as though he is holding me together; keeping the sorrow from ripping my heart to pieces.  I miss him when he's not here. 

My sister, who has experienced the keen pain of loss, has been wonderful.  She's allowed me to indulge my less than polite side.  To complain about the things people say, when they feel they need to say something, to allow me to cry without making me feel pitied.  She's offers gentle reassurance and realistic comments and advice.  She has been amazing.

I want to hide, to climb under the covers and ignore life and the spinning of the earth, but life continues and obligations file in and pile up.  Obligations that don't care that my heart is bruised and that I feel like I can't catch my breath. Life can be a cruel bitch when all you want to do is indulge your bitterness and sorrow. 

I dread facing people and having to hear the "maybe it was meant to be speech" or the "you can always adopt" talk.  I hate this because these are rational and practical comments but, heart break, is not rational, it is not practical, it is a wound, like any other.  It requires time and rest.  Words do not fix a broken bone, nor a broken heart.  The kindest words are the fewest.  "We love you and we are sorry this didn't work out.  We'll pray for you" 

Despite my rant, we really do appreciate the out pouring of support.  When we read each touching and humorous comment the tears change from those of pain to those of love.  It is great to know how we are not only surrounded but swaddled in people who love and care for us.  We don't have adequate words of thanks for you.  So I will just say this:  We are blessed and humbled to be so loved by such amazing people.  Thank you for the support throughout, not for just us but to Kelly and Ben as well. 

And to Kelly and Ben:  You are two of the most special people God has ever created.  We knew that when we agreed to try but each day has been an affirmation of what a gift you are to the world.  I will continue to treasure you friendship that has been woven firmly into my life, Kelly.  If any thing, that friendship, will continue.  I love you and yours. 

It didn't stick

I'm sure by now you know that we are not pregnant, but I wanted everyone to know that for myself, and I'm sure the same is true for Katy, it will take a little time to put together a post about getting the news, spreading the news and the hours and day(s) that followed.  I don't want to rush through one of the most significant experiences of this process and I want to do it justice.  I know that everyone will understand and respect this.

I know we've said it a thousand times but it must be said again:  Thank you!  From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for letting us share this story and thank you for supporting all 4 of us.  To Matt and Katy: we thank you for your trust, your timeless friendship and for letting us be a part of this very private, very raw, and very brave process.  Your unconditional love and support for each other, as well as your strength, is immeasurable and admirable.  Truly you are both an inspiration for everyone around you!  To Katy:  there is nothing I can say that hasn't been said.  You recently said something to me that made me laugh and I thought "that's a great one!".  Today that quote has been ringing loudly in my head and I'll leave you with it as now it may take on a new meaning for you as it has for me:  Just when I thought I had all the answers, the questions change.

Worst Post Ever

Ok.  Pretty much the title says it all.  I'm not sure that I have too much to say, especially anything vital, important or emotional but I'm sure that everyone is wondering what's happening on our end and how we're feeling before the big day.  Or maybe my thinking is slightly narcissistic.

I had been just fine until I got home this evening, got on Facebook and was greeted by a flurry of well wishes, luck, prayers and positive thoughts and now my mind is kind of starting to swirl into an emotional hurricane.  The #1 question I get asked is if I'm nervous.  I don't know that nervous would be among my emotions but to be honest, I don't know if I could even pick them apart but I just feel like nervous isn't in there.  Part of me just thinks of tomorrow as an end - the finish line.  No matter what the result is - tomorrow is the end of a lot of things in a lot of ways.  Like Katy said in her post, isn't it more about the fear of the unknown rather than the known.  I don't know what a negative result means; I don't know where I go after that, what I do, what happens with The Oven and GM relationship.  Will I feel like I failed?  Will I question whether or not I could have done one little thing differently that could have made a difference?  How long and how hard will I grieve?  I don't know and I don't pretend to know.  Maybe it's best I don't know right now.

In many ways, for me and Ben, this has become more than just "giving them an opportunity they wouldn't have otherwise had."  It's revisiting the excitement and nerves of wanting to become parents and wanting to give this amazing, deserving couple their own chance to experience that as their own.   It's realizing how blessed we are, even during the times when the kids make us wonder which one of us thought having kids was a good idea.  It's seeing life's beginning with a whole new perspective that we will never forget.  It's been being honored with the most precious gift of all:  trust.  It is so many things.  And no matter what part of me thought I understood that this was just an "opportunity", it's becoming clear to me that it this experience is more than that. We have been honored to be a part of this and to be so completely trusted with something so precious.  To Katy and Matt:  Thank you.

What I do know:  If the test result is positive, well - been there done that, I'll be on with my night and something new will start on Wednesday.        

Coming Soon: Schrodinger's Cat :The Big Reveal

This past Saturday Matt and I were able to spend sometime with Ben and Kelly and their two hilarious kids.  The day was so great.  I forgot how relaxing being around Kelly and Ben is.  The time and conversation isn't forced or taxing like normal social interactions are for me.  It's just, well, easy.  I left feeling more content than I had felt in a long time.  It was wonderful.

While we were there, Kelly and I discussed how we would receive the news.  Who would call who, ect.  We decided on having the call come to me first and then I would call Kelly and tell her personally.  Kelly reminded me that we would have the results on Tuesday, and when she uttered those words my stomach dropped to my feet and I felt like someone had just smacked me between the eyes.  Tuesday.  Tuuuueesssdaaaayyyy.  Tues. Day.   For some reason I had been clinging to the illusion that it was WEDNESDAY.  This little fact, this matter of knowing, 24 hours earlier, scared the shit out of me.

I am still reconciling these emotions.  I am ready to know.  I want to move on to the next phase in our lives which ever it may be, but for some reason, I am afraid.  I don't know why.  I don't think I felt like this with any of our other procedures.  But, yes, this one is different.  Completely different, and there are things to fear.  But should knowing be one of them?  I suppose it's really more the unknown, isn't it?

Wading Through the Waters in Ce-Ment Shoes

I'm trying very hard to keep busy so, my mind will be filled only with the tasks at hand.  The trouble is, I'm getting distracted from my distractions.  So far I've done a good job of not wallowing in a pool of self pity and doubt, but that urge to trudge on is taking its toll.  I keep feeling  exhausted and a headache is almost guaranteed by 2pm.  I am picturing my synapses waging war on one another, trying to keep my attention.  It feels like a tug of war is going on in my frontal lobe!

I know I need to switch gears, since the avoidance tactic is an unhealthy method for me.  (It always manifests itself in poor sleep habits, agitation (thank God for Ativan), and emotional eating.)  Up through this point I had done a decent job at staying with my feelings and not shoving them away.  I was taking them along with me, as expected, unwanted guests.

The difference, I think now, lies in the role reversal.  I feel like I am managing the business end of this possible pregnancy, despite Kelly's efforts to pull me in to the role she knows I want to occupy.  I want to be all over this like bubble gum under the church pew.  I want her to outsource part of her life to me, I'll even work on my Indian accent.  I will get there, it just takes time in my new cement shoes.  (I really thought they could have come up with something a little nicer, not a bow or ruffle on them anywhere, well at least they're not Crocs.)

Humbled by Support & Finding Nerves

In the last 2 days Ben & I have received an overwhelming amount of support, thanks and appreciation from the friends and family of Katy and Matt for which we are entirely grateful.  That being said, I still feel the same that I did when we started this - undeserving of the praise and appreciation.  I am blessed to have an easy time conceiving and throughout pregnancy so if I can help a deserving couple receive the gift of a lifetime, why wouldn't I?  The outcry has me very nervous at this point because the only thing I have done so far is not back out.  It has been said that I have offered an opportunity which is worthy of the thanks and appreciation but this isn't a done deal yet. 

Schrödinger's cat

Wow!  What a day!  This morning we got going so we could be at the Fertility Center at 10am.  I was still feeling stunned.  Ever since we had the transfer time given to us I've felt a bit sick.  Not in a bad way; just overwhelmed.

As usual Kelly and Ben kept us laughing.  The nurses were unaware of our situation of Gestational Carrier since it is so unusual in our state.  When they called Kelly back they expected her husband but not Matt and I!  I chimed in after the nurse called Kelly, "and company!".  We kept getting long sided glances and they put Kelly and her husband in a prep area to get  her undressed and we were told basically to wait here while it happened and Kelly was quick to dismiss this as was I.  They were a bit concerned about putting us all in the procedure room.  Ben, God love him, said, "If  anyone is going to step out, it's going to be me."  He said it so definitively.  That for some reason was so touching.  I can't express it.  It was so gallant.   They finally agreed to allow us all into the procedure room as long as we stayed out of the way.