Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Now What?

Another BFN with the added drama and heartbreak of a chemical pregnancy.  I'm not sure where we go from here.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

...And the 2WW...again

We had our second transfer on Friday.  Three of our "pops" survived the thaw...again.  I must admit, I'm terrified.  These "pops" seem like they are better quality than the ones transferred last time, but I'm scared they aren't good enough.  I know how silly that is since the grade of the "pop" won't matter one way or the other in the end.

I was so convinced that it was our turn for something to go right for us that I never considered that our first attempt would be a BFN.  With this second attempt, I feel very disconnected.   I'm scared to enjoy the anticipation.  There is so little that we as IPs of a pregnancy on the other side of the world can do to feel connected to the baby growing in another woman's womb.  So we obsess over every email searching for hidden messages.  We consult with Dr. Google over every single test and scan and result.  We stare into the face of the woman who is loaning us her body so that we can feel like we know her.  We (speaking for what I am expecting of myself) go insanely overboard creating the perfect nursery for the child we are trying so hard to bring into the world.  We do these things so that we can feel involved in the creation and birth of our child because the only true contact we have with our pregnancy, is through a computer screen.

So now we wait...and I will try to get over my fear and enjoy the anticipation.  Because, even though I know how crushed I would be with another BFN, I need to experience this pregnancy as much as I can.  And that means building up the courage and getting on the roller coaster...again.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Two Years

Today is the two year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis.  So, I am officially a two-year cancer survivor.   I have very mixed feelings about my cancer-versary.  On the one hand I am eternally grateful that I am 2 years cancer free and hopeful that one day I will be a 40 year survivor.  On the other hand, it dredges up all of the emotions and stress associated with my diagnosis.   Two years ago today, our life was derailed and set on an entirely new course.   Two years later, we are still trying to put our life back together and we are still getting used to the new normal.

It's kind of funny to me, but I look at this surrogacy journey we are on and our impending parenthood as not so different from our cancer journey.  Both are out of the ordinary and, in their own way, journeys into the unknown.  Both are stressful, (one is bad stress, one is good stress...but stress is stress) resulting in short tempers and sleepless nights.  Both have unknown outcomes with the high potential for complications and heartbreak.  Both change the lives of the people involved completely and irrevocably.  Both are terrifying.  For me, both of them are nine month journeys.  I was diagnosed in June and my treatment was complete in March.  In reality, neither is truly a nine month journey.  Both are journeys that last a lifetime.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

A Special Day for a Special Guy

Today is a special day for someone who is very special to me.  Not many people outside of my family know this, because I do not talk about it...ever.  A decade ago (in another life) I was married.  It was a very brief marriage, 2 years if you count the 6 months we were separated before the divorce was final.  What very few people know, and I never talk about, is I have a stepson.

Today is his 18th birthday.  K. was 6 when I met him and almost 8 the last time I saw or spoke to him.  Not a year has gone by that I do not think about him on June 6.   Today he is an adult and this week, very likely, he is graduating from high school.  I miss him very much, and I often wonder how he is doing.  Losing him was, and still is, very painful for me.  He was my stepson, and for a few days each week for a year and a half, I got to be his mom.  I got to pick him up from school, and help him with his homework.  I got to tuck him into bed and play board games with him.

Today he is taking his first steps into adulthood, but in my head he is always going to be the blond haired cutie I knew a decade ago.  I hope that as K begins his life, he makes good choices and finds happiness in whatever he does.   I have not forgotten you K, and you will always have a place in my heart.