I think I often present as a generally happy and optimistic person (and I am). So when people ask me how I am doing, it is easy to say I am fine and move on. I have been trying to be honest with my feelings throughout this process and in general the more mature I get. I think realness is good for us as humans.
So, that said, this experience has been really difficult on me emotionally. At first, it just took some time to process the facts and what the heck had just happened. With time, I have had a LOT of feelings of "Why in the world did this happen to me?? I was just trying to do a good deed in the world, and this is the result?!" I know the "Why me?" approach is not the healthiest long-term, but I do think it's okay to acknowledge pain and loss when it exists. I feel a little blindsided by the fact that hysterectomies seem to be a known complication of IVF/surrogacy in general and I was never told about this. As I have talked to other gestational carriers this week, there are numerous others who have had my exact experience. It seems for some reason there is an increased chance of complications that result in hysterectomies after doing IVF and more in particular when carrying a baby for someone else. Why were we not told about this going in? I absolutely do not think it would have changed my decision-- How could I ever regret bringing a human life into the world? I couldn't, and I don't. But, with that knowledge, at least I could have gone in with some awareness of the possibility, which would have made it easier to cope with if it became a reality.
I tend to get fairly weepy and emotional in the weeks after birth (darn hormones). I was just starting to feel like I was doing better this way from the birth hormones and now I almost feel like I have started over. I have found myself crying often and without knowing exactly why. I know I certainly don't need my uterus anymore, and there are definite perks of not having it long-term, but it still feels like a violation of sorts. I didn't ask for this, I didn't get to consent to it, and I am all the sudden missing a part of my body-- a part of what makes me a woman, a part that carried my 3 babies to term, miscarried one, and took a cell biologically related to someone else and carried it to term as a miraculous baby. My uterus has done some pretty amazing things, but all the sudden, it was taken from me. Oddly, losing the ability to pump for Paris on my own terms has also felt like an additional loss, layered on top of the other.
I know my emotions are worse when I don't have control over what I can and can't do in my life as well. I was supposed to go back to work this week and that has obviously been postponed. I can't drive, I can't work, I can't exercise, I can't even take a bath-- I can't do much but sit around currently and that is super hard on me. I feel best when I am busy, active, and productive and I am none of the above right now.
As I have sat with some of these yucky emotions, I have identified that I am feeling some renewed grief at the loss of my Aunt Linda, who passed away almost 9 years ago from an amniotic fluid embolism. Our stories are not the same, but I was at the hospital when Linda arrived by life flight and the nurse told me that if they could just stabilize her, they could do a hysterectomy and potentially save her life. But, they couldn't and she didn't make it. Why? Why her and not me? I certainly don't think I was that close to death, but if we had not gone into the hospital when we did, I think things could have gotten a lot scarier. Those feelings persist that Linda and I have similarities in our stories and yet she is gone and I am still here. I don't fully understand.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I worry for my sweet husband, who has been an absolute saint through this entire experience. He has stayed by my side the whole time, helped shower me in the beginning when I couldn't, prepared meals, cleaned the house, and most importantly been there for me emotionally. He doesn't like to see me cry and tends to want to "fix it", but he has gotten really good at just sitting with me and letting me talk it through. In case I haven't mentioned it, I love him dearly. He is the best husband and companion for me.
When we arrived at the emergency room on Tuesday night, Devin had a significant spiritual experience. This experience helped Devin through the hours of waiting and not knowing and through what was to come. He shared it with me Sunday, two days after I arrived home from the hospital and it reminded me yet again, of God's hand in our lives. I will share this later. This has also given me peace as I have tried to make sense of things. I know God knows me and loves me. I know that he is aware of me now and though I can't fully make sense of everything, there is a reason for what I have gone through. I am learning and open to learning more as time passes about what it is I need to know.
I do know that Devin was really worried for me during the surgery. He called my mom multiple times and she said she has never heard him sound so worried. My mom has also told me that she was frantic, worried that I was dying. She knows that I wasn't really, but those thoughts stemmed from the trauma of losing her son (my brother) last year, as well as her sister Linda. I think Devin's fears have somewhat lingered with him. Just this morning, he told me he was worried I was dead because I never stirred or moved when he woke up, through his shower, and through while he got dressed. I usually wake up with any noise, so he genuinely thought I was dead in the bed when I hadn't moved. I woke up to him approaching me in a bit of a panic. What a horrible feeling to constantly worry if your wife is okay. I think this will definitely lessen with time, but it gave me some insight into what he must have been feeling during the surgery.
I can't end this post without acknowledging the amazing and truly wonderful angels we have around us. I have been SO surrounded with support and I have never felt so loved in my life. We have had countless meals, treats, gift cards, flowers, entertainment, etc. dropped off. We have had people mow our lawn, clean our house, drive me places, come over and give me a blessing, and care for our children. I have had to tell many people no to bringing a meal because we just don't need it. I have had visitors daily, usually at least two per day, who just want to come see me and sit with me. These are not arranged visits or meals, just people who genuinely care. The visits, texts, and personal messages mean the most to me. I am a social worker, so maybe it's obvious, but human connection is really important to me. I have loved connecting with so many people, some who I haven't seen or talked to for some time. I have felt such an outpouring of love. Thank you, everyone, for that. I keep having the Mr. Rogers quote below running through my head and I 100% agree with it. I think one of the biggest blessings of hardship is that we can see how much others love and care.
No comments:
Post a Comment