Closing Time.

This is it. My last blog post.

I've been wanting to do one for a while, but I wasn't sure what to say. Then I had too much to say. And lacked the energy to form a coherent final entry. So I've been avoiding it. Until today.

My Timehop app notification pops up. And the first thing I see is this.

The day that everything officially started unraveling. I've been waiting for it. Every day on Timehop, I see Facebook status updates from one year ago relating to surrogacy in one way or another. After all, I was living, eating, breathing surrogacy at the time.

So here we are, one year later. All the surrogates that I follow who got pregnant around the same time I was beginning my medication cycling have had their surro-babes now. The last one, the surrogate whose journey was most like mine (same agency, same RE, thin lining issues, transfer canceled) gave birth last week. Some of the surrogates are already working on a second journey.

Although I would have loved for my surrogacy journey to have worked out with J&S (who sadly still have no baby on the way), it's hard to imagine at this point that I would have been giving birth this summer. It's hard to imagine the things I got to do that I may have missed out on, had I still been pursuing surrogacy or been pregnant or giving birth.

Things like birthday parties for my daughters.

Or running a 5K with my husband.

Ringing in the New Year with my amazing friends (and alcohol).

Watching my baby "gradulate" from preschool.

And birthday shenanigans in St. Augustine with my best girl.

So while I knew that being a surrogate meant making sacrifices I was willing to make, it feels good looking back to know I didn't have to miss any of these moments. I did lose a couple of friends as a result of my decision to be a surrogate for a gay couple. But let's be honest, I'm not really missing out on anything there, am I? ;)

I am so thankful for this whole experience though. I learned so much about myself, my support system, and my ability to push myself further than I ever thought possible (Hello, needle-phobe giving myself dozens of intramuscular injections!). I made friends I would have never found otherwise and traveled to places I never thought I'd go. Speaking of which, my whirlwind trip with my husband to New York City for the medical screening still goes down as one of the most memorable 36 hours of my life. Manhattan, Grand Central Terminal, the top of the Empire State Building, the lights of Times Square, the harrowing taxi rides, and spring in full bloom. 

This was our first glimpse of the city as we walked out of Grand Central Terminal. It literally took my breath away. We both gasped in awe and disbelief. I will never forget that rush, which is good, because pictures do not do this city justice. Who knew that two small town kids would get bit by the big city bug? We are both itching to go back for another visit!

So remember all that pain and heartache I felt when my surrogate dream crashed down around me? Turns out it gets better. I'm okay now. And after an astounding 25,000 page views on this blog from all over the world, lengthy applications (and quick denials) with over 2 dozen surrogacy agencies after my lining issues, and countless syringes and hormone pills, my surrogacy chapter is closed.

Closing time.

You don't have to go home, but you

Can't. Stay. Here.

(P.S. I knooow whoooo I waaaant to take me home!.......sorry, couldn't help it. It's in my head now.)

Who Are You?

Wife. Mom. Gestational Surrogate.

That's how I've defined myself since February. Passionate about all three titles. But now, over the last several weeks, I have been questioning whether I get to call myself a surrogate. I feel like I'm stuck between two worlds, like a ghost.

No one except another surrogate truly understands just how much of yourself is invested in the process. And I did what most of the girls consider to be the hardest part. Multiple times. The research, the paperwork, the medical records, the questions from those who accept your journey, the harsh words and judgement from those who don't, the new friends I made, the old friends I lost, the psych testing, the social worker screenings, the travel, the medical screenings, the matching, the contracts, the relationship building, the appointments, the ultrasounds, the medications, the supplements, the injections, the side effects, the pressure, the hurry up and wait, and the disappointment when things don't go as planned.

All part of being a surrogate. So I am a surrogate.

But I never met my IF's in person. I never saw a picture of the perfect little cells. I never had an embryo transfer. I never had bed rest after the transfer. I never had the agonizing two week wait. I never bought the entire shelf of home pregnancy tests at the Dollar Store. I never waited for beta results. I never waited for beta results to double. I never got pregnant. I never saw the heartbeat on the ultrasound. I never got to see the look on my IF's faces when they watched their baby being born. I never got to pump breast milk for my surro-babe. I never said a tearful goodbye to the family I helped create.

All part of being a surrogate. So I am not a surrogate.

It doesn't look like I'll ever get to cross over to the surrogate world, but I certainly can't just go about my business in the non-surrogate world. I don't know for sure what I am. But one thing I know for certain: my life has forever been changed.