Living Our Sunshine with Susann Deysel
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surrogacy

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Bad news

The worst part of bad news is that you always think that this might be the worst you’ll ever hear. Then the distant future becomes the present and the bad news just doesn’t stop.

I am so tired. I have been crying since Wednesday. Not the type of crying where it kind of just stays within your space, but the type where it just rips your chest apart with a pain so unbearable that it makes you sound like a demented person. And I don’t even care that I might disturb the neighbours.

Our attempt failed. Our specialist is less than not optimistic. I cannot accept the outcome.

I blame every doctor that accepted money and never diagnosed me. Every single gynaecologist that decided that I’m just a little stressed and that the pill would solve my problems. I will not forgive.

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Aspiration, Anesthetics and Me

Big words that scare me. Tonight I will get yet another injection in preparation of Wednesday’s procedure. Tuesday night my eating and drinking must stop at 10pm. Wednesday I will be in a clinic gown and hopefully I will be home by 1pm.

What scares me most of all the big words are those that could see me never waking up. Those words that they do to you when you are in a medical facility and you get wheeled out in a coffin. I have a real fear of being placed under anesthetics.

I am an optimistic realist – or so I like to think of myself. Just in case anything does go wrong on Wednesday my will is up to date – and I would like to eat a meal fit for a queen. I want chicken and chips with a Cinnabon.

If I make it through this – I deserve a Pandora bracelet this year.

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The race to finding eggs

The most frustrating thing about not being able to fall pregnant or to predict a cycle is that I have to wait for a miracle. To get the miracle I have to ingest pills like candy, get poked and injected. It is just horrible.

Seriously, I wish I didn’t have this issue and could just fall pregnant like a stupid teenager.

Monday we will be back in the clinic and hopefully it will be better news than last time. I am seriously in need of extremely good news. if there is no good news we have to wait for yet another cycle.

 

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Faith is a joke

The last few months I realised a few things:

  1. I can count my friends on less than 2 hands
  2. You cannot rely on religious people to be selfless
  3. People do not understand what it is to get the “infertile forever” verdict
  4. People definitely do not know how hard it is to find a surrogate else they would be sharing

The past few months have been hell. I could have done with at least more of my friends just dropping an email to say pretty much anything – just so I know that they actually cared. That didn’t happen and now I can seriously say that I have cut down on even having them on my Facebook list of friends.

You would think that if you asked help from a church (or a few of them) to just put the word out that there is someone that needs a surrogate that they will oblige. Wrong. Churches don’t care, Christians aren’t selfless and I will never set foot in one of these places.

If one more person tries to tell me that “God has a plan” or that maybe it is for the best I will not keep my cool. (Seriously, I heard these things from my friends as well – I wonder how these tactless bastards would feel if they were in my shoes?) I also do not want to hear that anyone will pray for me, because there isn’t anybody up there…

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Where Are My Friends?

The last 2 weeks have been hell for me. I found out that I am infertile and it really was a big sad heartbreak moment for me. I always dreamt of having my own 2 and now there is only a small possibility – if I can find a suitable surrogate.

I have not been able to focus on much else or had time to think of Valentine’s Day. This year, we will just go to the movies and watch ‘Pad Na Jou Hart’. No gifts. I am not in a celebratory mood.

I always thought that I had good friends and that they will be there for me when I needed them. I was wrong. I feel abandoned by my oldest friends.

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