So I’m still just reeling from my news and it’s almost been 2 weeks now.
I’m still trying to figure out how when the worst possible thing you can imagine happens and then you find out later it just gets worse.
I’ve tried to pick myself up and keep moving.
I’ve spent many hours pounding my punching bag.
I’ve consumed more alcohol than I thought I would ever consume.
I’ve spent hours reading medical journals and literature about Asherman’s and surgery and how with my history of RPL, it’s just not worth wasting embryos on my uterus ever again even IF I found an expert to attempt to remove the scar tissue.
I’ve had moments where I felt relieved that I will never be pregnant again. I’m strangely comforted by knowing my body/uterus will never be responsible for killing another baby.
I’ve put the only energy I have left into furthering our surrogacy plans. Because that’s all I have now.
I’ve found myself resenting the fact that I have the most wonderful living daughter because if I didn’t have her, I wouldn’t have to keep going. And then I hate myself because that makes me a pretty shitty mother to even wish for a second that I didn’t have the responsibility of my daughter when she’s all I have and the only baby I’ll ever have carried. I just want to quit.