I have been pulled under by the tide of a giant tidal wave.
I am slammed against the bottom of the ocean floor, and the wind is knocked out of me.
I do not know which way is up.
I am tired and start to panic.
The terrorizing thought that this may be it fills my body with pain.
It is a nightmare.
I want to wake up, because, right now, I don't have the strength to swim.
To others, this may sound dramatic or self-piteous.
I assure you, it is.
You see, just for today, the optimism 'pot' runneth dry.
I guess it has runneth over for some time now...or maybe that was the wishful thinking pot???
But for me, a person who spends most of her time telling others that life is beautiful and worth living, I, today, am needing to release these feelings somewhere. Anywhere. Here.
I have not left my kitchen all morning. Reading about others who know how I feel, and those who have moved on, allows me to feel what is really going on inside. You guys (even dear R. who has just bought a front row seat to our show, and has had her own hardship in her own life) understand how truly daunting the idea that the most primal instinct to procreate may be being denied is.
Yesterday, when I heard the news, I had a moment where I doubted Gods existed. Where I shouted out that familiar old idea, that there couldn't possibly be a God who is this cruel. I swore that this would be the end of my believing, praying, hoping, dreaming, optimism...
What I was really saying was that I want the pain to end. I want a break from the heartache and disappointment. I want to hear a yes, instead of always hearing a no.
The swearing doesn't last long. I know those old ideas are not reality for I was given that Knowledge, many years ago as I lay on the maternity ward for two weeks following our first ectopic pregnancy that almost killed me, that this was not God punishing me. That this problem was scientific. His Grace carried me through that time, as I heard the calls, over the intercom, for the new mothers to come for the breastfeeding classes, while I lay, empty-wombed...I would never have survived that time if I believed that somehow they were 'blessed' and I was being punished.
I was given that same reassurance as I lost my best friend (age 24), father (at age 53) and stepmother (age 52) of cancer. It was not that God had "thought it was their time to leave the planet"- that is an old idea. It was scientific. A problem in the human realm, not the spiritual.
All of that said, G & I are so grateful to have met someone so moved by our plight that they would actually jump in with us to try and help. We will always be grateful for R and want her to know that.
The pain I feel is just the time ticking, the life altering pain that we, as a couple, are experiencing and the utter disbelief that we are still here. We both feel like fish out of water. That something drastic needs to change, and that this sadness must give way soon or it will kill us.
We have aged. G looks different now, so do I. This has stolen something from us. We have been overwhelmed and are 'hitting the mat' and both shouting "I Give"!!!!!!
The lesson cannot be that Life is Unfair. I got that one long ago (like many of you). The lesson cannot be patience, I think we have proven that we have that. The lesson can't be perseverance, humility or keeping faith. You can't move onto surrogacy without possessing those three attributes to some degree.
Is the lesson that we are not meant to be parents?
I don't know if that is a lesson I am prepared to learn, thanks...