I don't feel any kind of overwhelming emotion today. Instead, I feel pretty dead inside (ugh, literally I suppose. I wasn't really trying to go there, but whatever.).
A fresh-faced zombie.
I put makeup on this morning. I had to do something to make myself feel better. To feel pretty. To feel normal.
Much like the title states, I feel as though I have a steady flow of sorrow inside. Like I'm hooked up to some kind of IV from hell. Just enough sorrow to remind me of my pain, but not enough to send me into any kind of pain-induced fits or a comatose state.
I have so much work to do. But all I'm accomplishing is staring. Staring out the window at the snow on the bank. Staring at my computer screen. Staring into my coffee.
What is it about a miscarriage and people suggesting surrogacy?
From the American Pregnancy Association's website:
Studies reveal that anywhere from 10-25% of all clinically recognized pregnancies will end in miscarriage.
Obviously neither my mother or mother-in-law know about this statistic.
I know they mean well. But come on.
The evening after the appointment, Buster was on the phone with his mother. And she was saying that she will do whatever she can to help us, etc etc. Then some how, some way she brings up surrogacy. Like maybe we should consider it. I'm not sure exactly what was said, and I don't know how Buster responded.
But he told me after their phone call, and I was just a little shocked. Ok, I really had nothing left in me to feel shock. But I was still taken aback.
I guess people don't realize how common miscarriage is. Or how expensive surrogacy is. Or how maybe that's not what I want to hear on the day I found out my baby died.
Yesterday I was on the phone with my mom. She has been really broken up over all of this. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that she and my dad were in the ultrasound room with me. But the other reason this is affecting her so much is because it's bringing back memories.
When I was six, I had a two-month-old brother who passed away due to a heart defect (truncus arteriosis). Even though what my parents went through back then was WAY more painful than what I'm going through now, just the whole loss thing has really made these painful memories resurface for my mom.
So much so that yesterday morning I felt like I was having to console her and cheer her up. I didn't mind, but I really didn't have much in me to be able to do it very well.
Later in the afternoon, she seemed to be feeling better. I told her that I spoke with my clinic, and what they said. We talk about plans for the future, what I'd like to see happen, what I'm going to ask my clinic, etc.
She then says the most asinine thing imaginable.
"You know, I read a story in People magazine where a mother carried a baby for her daughter. I would do that for you."
Are you fucking kidding me??
I don't know much about surrogacy. And no offense, but right now is not a time I want to learn anything about it.
(I hope this whole rant doesn't make me sound anti-surrogacy. Because I'm not. I would definitely pursue that option someday, given the necessity. Right now I don't feel that it's anywhere close to being a necessity.)
Can a 55-year-old woman who has had a partial hysterectomy even be a surrogate?
And more importantly, is that what I would want?
She then made some joke about my sister's puppy, and how like the little pup, she might never want to give the baby back.
Aha. Ha. Ha.
I'm not in the mood to laugh, mom. I didn't say that, of course. I just brushed it off and got off the phone. Then sat there shaking my head.
Something about bad things happening to others brings out the dumb comments, right? I know many of you have experienced this. And I had too, relating to infertility.
Maybe it's not when a bad thing happens to someone, but maybe it's when people are just uninformed and ignorant. They don't know what to say, so they end up usually saying the wrong things.
I don't know what the right things are. There's really nothing anyone can say that makes me feel better. But I do appreciate knowing that I have support.
And this brings me to my final thought. In this dark time, I have taken great comfort in the comments of support and sadness posted by you, my friends and readers of my blog. Something about feeling loved and supported makes things not seem so bleak.
So please know that I appreciate each and every comment. Thank you.
Death Cab for Cutie's Marching Bands of Manhattan: