Travelling without Moving

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.

23 thoughts on “Travelling without Moving”

  1. I don’t blame you for feeling sad or for wanting to wait. I would feel the same way. Heck, I felt sad when you and Chance and Apollo had to say goodbye. You must ALWAYS do what feels right to you. Good luck, hon.

  2. ((hugs)) my dear. I’ve had many stops and starts myself, but the one thing I always done is given myself time to grieve before I moved on. Give yourself all the time your heart needs…

  3. I’m sorry you feel sad. Sometimes just being still is very much needed. Nonetheless…I completely understand the ‘planning the next thing’…and have already made tentative plans to begin ‘the next thing’ (more school) if the IVF thing doesn’t pan out.
    There has to be a next thing. Being still is a challenge…and all this waiting around has been hard for me, but I think it was needed…because sometimes jumping right in to the ‘next thing’ doesn’t give you time to process the ‘previous thing’ and all the hurt and pain that goes with it.

  4. I know the disappointment will never go away, but I wish you luck at finding peace with it this summer.


    Sending LOVE and ((Hugs)) and KNOW how you are feeling! Your heart knows the way to go. Love ya!

  6. I find the stillness hard to pursue and/or accept sometimes. But I also know how much relief and healing it can bring (on the few times I’ve allowed it in). Hope that you can find a bit too….

  7. Ahhh…Moxie…you have made me cry again. I pray for a happy ending…for both you and for Chance and Apollo.

  8. (((HUGS)))
    FWIW, I think it is truly amazing that you have been and quite possibly will be a surrogate. It is a wonderful, wonderful thing to do, and I applaud you. I can’t even imagine what you go through, though, when it doesn’t work.

  9. Your words are just beautiful! For very different reasons, I find myself struggling to let go of one hand (while holding her heart) and reach for another hand. I struggle to hold Vivi always as close as ever in my heart, while expanding it to make room for more. Sometimes *I* get lost in that process. Reading your words, and thinking about the roads you’ve traveled, is empowering. Thank you for sharing this post!

  10. Coming for Blogger Bingo. I am a frequent reader, but I don’t think I have commented here before…
    I also am a doer, organizer, always needing to be active person. It is hard to slow down and just “be”. And I think I too use all the rushing around to avoid things/thoughts. I think it is something that we need to do sometimes tho–stop and just breathe.

  11. You know I’m around a lot, but today I’m here from Blogger Bingo because I do think *everyone* should read this. You are eloquent and have such a compassionate personality and unique perspective. (I thought about listing one of your posts about Frank’s cookies as a “must-read” but word about those cookies seems to be spreading like wildfire already!!!!)

  12. Pingback: Hear My Voice: Episode One with Kymberli Barney - Creating Motherhood

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