The NICU and the ICU may have been the most painful points of our lives, but once you leave, that doesn't mean it's over. Even still, we are going through the most difficult time we've ever had. Don't get me wrong, we are so incredibly thankful to have our son. I am so grateful to be able to hold him in my arms every single day and get those sloppy baby kisses. Given our journey, we are fortunate to have him here at all. Some days, though, that joy doesn't totally numb the pain. Is it selfish? Probably. But it's only human to hurt.
Before I was able to get pregnant, seeing a woman with a baby bump would make me sad. It would remind me of what I was incapable of, but wanted so badly. Now, it conjures memories of what I once had and loved, but I failed at. It's a reminder of what I will never have again. I'm not sure which has been more painful. Is it worse to have something and have it taken away, or to have never experienced something at all? Obviously, I do not mean that I would take back a single second because we get to raise the sweetest little boy. To have experienced infertility, however, and have finally found a solution reopened doors that I thought were closed. Now, these possibilities of a huge family that we once dreamed of have been ripped away. Again.
I have gotten opinion after opinion, and all say that having more children isn’t an option. What happened to me wasn’t an underlying condition, it was a rare occurance caused by pregnancy. Of course, I will do whatever I can to be the best mother I have to Flynn. First and foremost, he is the single most important thing, so if having another baby is a risk, then we will stay a family of three. That is both the easiest and most difficult decision that I’ve had to make. To have had my son and put myself at risk wouldn’t have even been a question. Had I known early in my pregnancy that the outcome would be what it was, I would not have changed my mind. What I now risk is more than myself, it’s my son’s life without his mother. Considering I won’t leave the room without him, I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. It sounds selfish after getting so lucky to say that this is a fact that I struggle coming to terms with, but it’s true. Anyone that has had a failed dream could understand.
I have often been asked, “What about surrogacy?” and that option is very valid. As I’ve said before, though, being in the midst of all of this makes it difficult to think about watching someone else
do something that I couldn’t do myself. I wanted the weekly bump updates until my belly was too big to fit in the frame, the baby showers, the maternity clothes, all of it. I was even excited for what so many other complain about because I had fought so hard and for so long. Maybe someday, I’ll change my mind, but now it’s just a reminder that I’m a failure. I’m taking it as a sign that I got my miracle boy and he is destined to have my whole heart forever.
Aside from that, I am trying my best. I bounce from doctor to doctor for answers and solutions to problems that seem to arise out of nowhere. I try not to complain, but sometimes living with a constant migraine grates on my last nerve. I get frustrated that all I want to do is be a good mom, but obstacles keep jumping in my way. I worry about all of the worst case scenarios as I live with a clot in my brain, like not being able to remember parts of my life for good (which is why this blog was started in the first place) or losing more function. I’m lucky to have a strong support system by my side, especially my mom who comes to every single doctor’s appointment with me. My circle may be smaller than it was, but it’s made up of quality people who are there to support us as we struggle.
On my most difficult days, I stare into my beautiful boy's eyes and try to forget everything else and remember what’s important and I attempt to tackle those obstacles out of the way. We look in the mirror every single morning and say: We are strong. We are brave. We are kind. We are unstoppable.
For Flynn, I have always believed every single word. For me, he’s helping me get there. His strength has inspired me every step of the way. That’s how we’ll make it through because sometimes you can't spot the biggest warriors just by looking at them.
Before I was able to get pregnant, seeing a woman with a baby bump would make me sad. It would remind me of what I was incapable of, but wanted so badly. Now, it conjures memories of what I once had and loved, but I failed at. It's a reminder of what I will never have again. I'm not sure which has been more painful. Is it worse to have something and have it taken away, or to have never experienced something at all? Obviously, I do not mean that I would take back a single second because we get to raise the sweetest little boy. To have experienced infertility, however, and have finally found a solution reopened doors that I thought were closed. Now, these possibilities of a huge family that we once dreamed of have been ripped away. Again.
I have gotten opinion after opinion, and all say that having more children isn’t an option. What happened to me wasn’t an underlying condition, it was a rare occurance caused by pregnancy. Of course, I will do whatever I can to be the best mother I have to Flynn. First and foremost, he is the single most important thing, so if having another baby is a risk, then we will stay a family of three. That is both the easiest and most difficult decision that I’ve had to make. To have had my son and put myself at risk wouldn’t have even been a question. Had I known early in my pregnancy that the outcome would be what it was, I would not have changed my mind. What I now risk is more than myself, it’s my son’s life without his mother. Considering I won’t leave the room without him, I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. It sounds selfish after getting so lucky to say that this is a fact that I struggle coming to terms with, but it’s true. Anyone that has had a failed dream could understand.
I have often been asked, “What about surrogacy?” and that option is very valid. As I’ve said before, though, being in the midst of all of this makes it difficult to think about watching someone else
do something that I couldn’t do myself. I wanted the weekly bump updates until my belly was too big to fit in the frame, the baby showers, the maternity clothes, all of it. I was even excited for what so many other complain about because I had fought so hard and for so long. Maybe someday, I’ll change my mind, but now it’s just a reminder that I’m a failure. I’m taking it as a sign that I got my miracle boy and he is destined to have my whole heart forever.
Aside from that, I am trying my best. I bounce from doctor to doctor for answers and solutions to problems that seem to arise out of nowhere. I try not to complain, but sometimes living with a constant migraine grates on my last nerve. I get frustrated that all I want to do is be a good mom, but obstacles keep jumping in my way. I worry about all of the worst case scenarios as I live with a clot in my brain, like not being able to remember parts of my life for good (which is why this blog was started in the first place) or losing more function. I’m lucky to have a strong support system by my side, especially my mom who comes to every single doctor’s appointment with me. My circle may be smaller than it was, but it’s made up of quality people who are there to support us as we struggle.
On my most difficult days, I stare into my beautiful boy's eyes and try to forget everything else and remember what’s important and I attempt to tackle those obstacles out of the way. We look in the mirror every single morning and say: We are strong. We are brave. We are kind. We are unstoppable.
For Flynn, I have always believed every single word. For me, he’s helping me get there. His strength has inspired me every step of the way. That’s how we’ll make it through because sometimes you can't spot the biggest warriors just by looking at them.
I love your open and raw honest writing. I too share those feelings of guilt and the frustration of knowing I won't have the chance again. You are not alone mama!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! I’m sorry that you share these feelings, but it helps to know we’re not alone. ♥️
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