Monday, June 10, 2013

Things are looking up... Surrogate Side

I never imagined that a surrogacy pregnancy could be so different than my own pregnancies.  Now, don't get me wrong!  I am in no way "complaining" - I am just expressing the differences that this pregnancy presents versus the pregnancies of my own children.  My husband and I were actually discussing this last night.  Let's compare our thoughts:

     ME:  Eh, I've been tired, nauseous and feeling some side-effects 
of the hormone therapy -- Crinone crap, hugely sore boobies, bloating, etc.  
That said, not too bad.  No biggie.

My husband (obviously) has been privy to a boatload of changes in these past few months.  Here's his list... 

HIM:  "You're tired, sick and moody.  I never know which G I'm gonna get.  
I tiptoe around you with the fear that your head will spin without notice."

Well, geesh!  I didn't think I was THAT bad!  My kids don't seem to notice...  Well, at least they can't tell me and continue to treat me as their own local celebrity.

With some further thought, I guess  things have been a bit different.  As I thought last night after our conversation, I realized that there were more dishes left in the sink on a more regular basis.  The laundry would get done, but folding it was not on my priority list and would pile up pretty high.  My floors had more "sprinkles" than ever before.  And, I just felt run-down - like I could sleep for a week. 

But, all that being said, it made me realize and appreciate at a more significant level what exactly I am doing and for whom I am doing it.  I know if K could do this on her own, she would in a heartbeat.  She may even wish she could experience these things on her own - she'd be crazy to want to feel this way, but I can appreciate why.  As much as I try to let K&J know how things are going, I know they aren't able to know everything they want to know as soon as they want to know it.  J can't go over to K's belly and give it a hug or kiss.  K can't caress her belly and sing it lullabies when she sees fit. 

They have given ME this gift of growing their little butterball for them.  They have entrusted in ME that I will take the BEST care of it until they are able to take over.  That has to be the hardest thing to endure.  Who am I to complain about not feeling well, or being tired and nauseous?

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