Having done it twice now while writing this blog, I've found that expressing my feelings over post-surrogacy journey aftermath is difficult for me to do. I devote so much time into writing about my experience as part of a cohesive unit, and then almost suddenly, too suddenly, it's over. Part of my story isn't mine to tell anymore. Ways diverge, and I find myself feeling like a lost child in the dark, groping around blindly for the hand she once held but knowing just the same that she has to find her way out alone.
I'm a thinker, a planner, a doer. I always feel the need to be busy with something, to have some goal that I'm working towards. College. Babies. Grad school (twice). Building a house. Surrogacy. These things have ebbed and flowed and overlapped one another as the years have gone on, but there was always something. In the few months here and there where there was nothing, before too long I find myself feeling unsettled and scattered. I throw myself into a new "project," and then I feel eased by having something onto which to focus my attention. It is oddly comforting.
Now, that drive to do has evolved into something of a coping mechanism. When any one thing feels like it's going to fly off the rails, I flail to redirect some attention elsewhere, to have something else at the ready grasp a hold of should the other go down in flames. It becomes the next hand to hold in case I have to unclutch my fingers from the other. If I'm focused on something new, then I don't have as much capacity to feel negative emotions from the first failure. Sadness subverted. Anger averted. Depression diverted. There is no time to lie down with those emotions when there are other things to think, plan, and do.
This time, it's different. I followed my natural inclination to avoid inaction, but what I've come to realize is that for once, I just need to be. My heart is heavy and I am sad. For once it feels better to sit idly with it for a while, to let it go away on its own instead of trying to shoo it away with a turn of the head and a quick flick of my empty hand.
I am no longer looking for a match. To clarify — there is a very strong possibility that I've already found a couple to work with for the next journey. It's someone who I've known for more than a year and coincidentally, just as I was ready to hit the brakes and pull my surrogacy ad down from SMO, she emailed asking maybe…? And I said Possibly, but…. For all intents and purposes, it might be safe to say that in a few months, we will walk this path together. Waiting is necessary for both of us for different reasons. On my part, I'm just not ready. I need to be still.
It is rainy here today.
I just miss my friend.
I am sad, and I don't want to take one hand while the sadness of letting go of another is so sharp.
I just miss my friend.