On the day that I received the news that my eggs were dried up, I came home and crawled into the pajamas I had worn the night before and didn't crawl out for two days. There was nothing special about these pajamas. I have many that are newer or more comfortable. These just happen to be the ones that were the most accessible when all I could think about was throwing myself into bed and crying until I couldn't cry anymore.
They weren't even my favorite jammies but they became my security blanket. Ancient flannel washed to softness and ready to comfort. They came with some froggie slippers that disintegrated years ago. I wore them when I couldn't stop crying, when I was angry with the myself for waiting so long, when I wanted to hide from the world. I wore them when I was grieving the children I would never have and when I was so angry at God I was unable to pray for help. And I've worn them when the light started shining a little again and while pouring over egg donor profiles. I've worn these P.J.s every night since I was told that bearing my own genetic children would not be possible. Every night. And a few days as well.
Now springtime weather is creeping in and my froggie jammies are almost uncomfortable. I know I'll soon have to fold my security blanket away in a drawer for the season. I'm unsure that I'm ready to put away my sadness about having to abandon my own genetics. I'm confident and sure about the donor egg situation but there may always be a tiny piece of me that is missing a child that would have carried my DNA.
When cooler weather rolls around again, I wonder if bringing out these tired jammies will be a painful reminder of what I've gone through this winter or if I'll only remember the comfort they brought me.
They weren't even my favorite jammies but they became my security blanket. Ancient flannel washed to softness and ready to comfort. They came with some froggie slippers that disintegrated years ago. I wore them when I couldn't stop crying, when I was angry with the myself for waiting so long, when I wanted to hide from the world. I wore them when I was grieving the children I would never have and when I was so angry at God I was unable to pray for help. And I've worn them when the light started shining a little again and while pouring over egg donor profiles. I've worn these P.J.s every night since I was told that bearing my own genetic children would not be possible. Every night. And a few days as well.
Now springtime weather is creeping in and my froggie jammies are almost uncomfortable. I know I'll soon have to fold my security blanket away in a drawer for the season. I'm unsure that I'm ready to put away my sadness about having to abandon my own genetics. I'm confident and sure about the donor egg situation but there may always be a tiny piece of me that is missing a child that would have carried my DNA.When cooler weather rolls around again, I wonder if bringing out these tired jammies will be a painful reminder of what I've gone through this winter or if I'll only remember the comfort they brought me.
I sure know where you are coming from on this post! I have my "star and moon" flannel jammies. I have worn them for 2 miscarriages and 2 BFNs. Also one live birth - they were actually given to me by my mom when D was born. So they have seen it all!
ReplyDeleteThe DE question will always be there I think. But the question is "do you want a child" - and the answer is "YES!"; and DE is the best way to get there. Maybe the only way. So that's what you do. This child will share cells with you - breathe your fluids and be nourished exclusively by you for at least 9 months (and probably more!) There is an article I read about a year ago that said cells from the mother are still present in a child at age 9! This gave me great comfort - although as you know I've never had the opportunity to see if I feel differently about a DE baby (I really don't think I will, and god knows I've had YEARS to think about it!)
Good luck hon, get out your good luck summer nightie!
~hugs~
ReplyDeleteHope they will be a reminder of the comfort they brought.
p.s
l like your new look.