It may be a mistake to get snarky on my second day as a blogger but if you’re here you’ve heard I’m bitter. Undoubtedly I am going to offend someone with my feelings but I can’t be honest if I’m a cat in a room full of rocking chairs and trying to dance around.

So here goes. Sometimes people really think they are being helpful, even those who may have faced their own struggles. The fact of the matter is that sometimes they are just not getting you at all.

There are people…wonderful, thoughtful, considerate people who have told us they would be our surrogate. The first time hubby mentioned an offer, it was someone I had never met. I went ballistic. I was so deeply offended and poor hubby, I let him pay for it. She was well intentioned but as a woman with infertility, not being able to give my husband a baby is the biggest source of feeling inadequate as a wife. He said “she offered” and I heard “She thinks you’re a failure”. Surrogacy is a great option for some, but it’s not for me. As it turns out, medically, I’m probably able to carry a baby, so please don’t offer to take that away from me. If you’ve got some great quality eggs on discount, we may have something to talk about later.

I’m not ready to mourn watching my belly grow and being happy about it for the first time in my life. I want cute maternity clothes. I can’t let go of struggling to open gifts at a shower with that outrageous bump. I want to feel the baby move.

The other option is “you could always adopt”. Ok, so you haven’t been in our position before. I have the greatest respect for adoption. One of our dearest friends was adopted and her parents did everything in the best way possible. She doesn’t remember not knowing she was adopted. At 18 she met her biological mother. They maintain a great relationship to this day and as an only child she is blessed with a half sibling. She knows I consider her one of my best reasons why adoption is a blessing. But it’s not something to throw at us like we’ve never heard it before. Adoption breaks all hope of genetic connection, of guessing how your combined DNA will arrange perfectly into your long awaited tiny miracle. We especially struggle with that part. Our Dads are gone. Ripped off this planet over a course of weeks, never to hold our children. I think we hold on to the possibility of seeing little parts of them in our offspring. Adoption just isn’t that easy.

Maybe there are people who are hurt by this post. Thanks for loving us enough to have made it this far into reading. Please know that we understand you’re trying to support us. Please don’t stop being supportive. You can tell us how much you’ll make sure our child never forgets how much he/she is wanted. You can tell Hubby that he’s going to be a great Dad. You can tell me that you’ve got my back, and I will be grateful.


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