And not a day, week, year makes the missing of my son any easier. People say time heals, time just distances us from the day our world crashed.
So much has happened in the last year. Grief changes us. It can consume us. If we aren't careful, it can destroy us.
When I lost Colton, I didn't only lose my son, I lost myself. Everyone thought I was okay. I was supposed to be. That's what everyone expected. Pick up and move forward. There were other children in the home that needed me. There was a life beyond the loss. I wasn't supposed to 'wallow' in the grief. I was supposed to move on.
So I did. Or the shell of me did anyways.
In retrospect, the more I faked being okay the less okay I was. I became more and more isolated from my friends and family. I gave up trying to talk about Colton. I gave up trying to make others understand how I felt. I gave up.
First I tried to replace the pain - to ignore it and 'fix' it - by replacing the loss of pregnancy with another pregnancy. I knew I wasn't ready for my own. No way. But, having been a surrogate before, I thought that doing another surrogacy would be a way to fill the empty womb, see that I could carry a baby to delivery again, and give myself hope that eventually, maybe, I could be a mother again.
I matched with a WONDERFUL couple. They were international and had a daughter already and we just clicked. I felt like this was RIGHT. Everything fell into place so easily and quickly. By September 2011 I was pregnant with a baby. I never feared this child would not make it. I felt confident again, peaceful, and excited to have LIFE inside again. I never realized the life was this baby's, not mine. I was still numb and lost. Just living through the surrogacy, but not really living.
All the while I was living vicariously through the pregnancy I was falling further and further from MY family. B and I were ... existing. I worked, was a housewife, and was ... a lost soul. I was functioning. And faking it oh so well... but faking it.
The pregnancy was picture perfect. I gained 16 lbs total, blood pressure was great throughout, baby was healthy and happy. On May 10, 2012 - my 33rd birthday - my water broke. Unfortunately it was a week PRIOR to when we were going to induce, and five days before his parents were due to arrive. So I delivered this beautiful little boy with the support of one of my best friends/doula and B by my side. Delivery was fast and easy and beautiful. Because the parents couldn't make it until the next day I had him with me all night and the next day until early afternoon. It was surreal, peaceful, and I *thought* healing, at least as far as pregnancy went.
But the rest of my world wasn't okay. My life wasn't okay.
Fast forward a few months. In September I left my home. I left B and our family. Not only had I not been happy for a long time, I let someone else into my life. I had been having an affair. I was a mess. I didn't know if I was coming or going and I fled. I fled everything. I was hiding in lies and a facade of fantasy, escaping the reality of the pain I refused to face, to heal.
And then, in October, I found out I'm pregnant. Even just acknowledging that moment again brings back that rush of emotions. Mostly fear. Pure fear.
Again, fast forward to now. I'm 19 weeks pregnant, single, and scared out of my mind. I realize, in retrospect, what a lie I was telling myself. Thinking I was okay, avoiding my life, my sadness, my grief... I was running from it all when it all caught up to me.
I am back in counseling. I am finally working through my grief of losing Colton, but not before I allowed it to completely destroy my life. It's not HIS fault, it's not because of his loss, it is because we just didn't handle it well. And we aren't the only ones. You *hear* about people losing a baby, about it destroying their relationships, but you never think it'll happen to you ... until it does.
And now, faced with another baby ... I don't regret my surrogacy for one second. I love him and his family so much ... but it was another lie. His pregnancy didn't fix anything. His pregnancy didn't heal my fears.
I sit here, almost half-way through my own pregnancy and wonder daily when she'll die. I am scared, constantly, of burying another baby. So much so I've been tempted to ask the cemetery to hold the spot next to Colton, just in case.
I use a Doppler almost daily. Even though I can feel her moving often and strong, I still have to find her heartbeat and just listen. I need to hear that she's still alive, and not that I just want her to be, like I did with Colton for so many DAYS before acknowledging I'd lost him.
I don't know how to ease those fears. I don't know if I can. I often believe I won't accept she's coming home with me until she's screaming and crying her way into this world.
If that doesn't happen ...
Do we ever really heal from the loss of a child?? I obviously didn't. But I'm working on it now. There's been so much loss, so much damage ... So much loss.
Another day, another week, another year ...
