Being Real

Remember that post I wrote last year called The Ugly Truth?  The one where I shared how hard it is to be infertile year after year after year?  This is a similarly truthful post -- although hopefully not quite as ugly -- about how hard it is to be "pregnant," but not really, month after month after month.  

The truth is this:  I feel like a fraud.  For months I've been putting on a happy face trying to be strong, but in doing so I feel like I'm not being honest.  Most people see the smile on my face and think that I'm bouncing off the walls, overflowing with joy and excitement that we're finally expecting a baby, when in reality I haven't enjoyed much about this journey since it started.

Let me be clear.  

I am excited...  but it is not overflowing.  I am filled with joy...  but only because joy is a choice.  And I am thankful to be expecting this amazing, undeserved gift.  I don't know that I would go so far as to say that I'm happy.  Why?  

Because surrogacy is HARD. 

Try to imagine for just a moment what it would be like to know you're "pregnant" but not get to feel or see any evidence of that.  Not a kick, not a flip, not a hiccup.

Now try to imagine that you're not only unable to experience anything yourself, but you have very, very limited access to the person who is carrying your baby because she lives over 300 miles away (which might as well be the moon since gas prices are so high!).  You can't even touch the belly where your child is growing or even have the chance to feel a kick from the outside.

Next try imagining what it would be like if, due to the difficulty of coordinating busy schedules, your primary method of communication with the woman carrying your child was text messaging (where one's "tone" can be so easily misread and misinterpreted).  You rarely hear her voice on the phone, and seeing her in person is even rarer still, which only accentuates how disconnected, isolated and uninvolved you feel.

Now imagine living like that day after day... week after week... and month after excruciating month.

Trust me.  It's brutal.

I am emotionally exhausted, so forgive me if I don't have any energy left for excitement.  I often feel as though everyone around me is more excited than I am.  Which of course is ridiculous since I'm the one who will have a baby in my arms at the end, Lord willing.  

The problem is that I'm on a road that doesn't feel like it has an end.  Time doesn't go fast.  It doesn't fly by.  It's not going to be here "before I know it" because Every. Single. Day. up to this point has been agonizing and there's no reason for me to think that the next 80-something days will be any different.

Every surrogacy story is going to be unique and different because every surrogacy story has unique and different people in it.  The one thing every story has in common is hormones and emotions, and throwing those into the mix can make things oh-so-complex -- especially when dealing with a first-time mom and a first-time surrogate at the same time. 

Needless to say, our story is turning out way different than how I imagined it would.  And maybe that's the problem.  Maybe I shouldn't have gone into this with any expectations at all, but how could I not?  It's human nature to paint a picture in our head of how a situation is "supposed" to play out. 

The beginning was full of hopeful excitement, and I know the ending will be amazing...  but this stuff in the middle?  Messy.  Uncomfortable.  Torture.  

In the end all that will matter is the baby in my arms.  All the crazy emotions...  the anxiety attacks...  the sobbing meltdowns in the shower... they will all be a distant memory.  I don't think I'll ever completely forget the hell I've lived through these past several months, but the bad stuff will fade with time as all bad stuff does.

In the meantime I'll just keep moving forward, making it through each day as best as I can.  And remember that even though time feels like it's dragging, now is not forever.  
 

I will see the goodness of the Lord.  

Joy is coming.