I'm terrified

I've tried to convince myself that I'm not terrified, but it hasn't worked. I'm completely scared that M's little angel's health situation is going to mean that M can't be make our dreams come true. Perhaps that sounds selfish, and in so many ways it is, but I can't help but feel that my dream is in limbo, it's existence is now uncertain.

There was an odd sense of confidence when I finally realized that we'll do doing traditional surrogacy with donor sperm. As sad as I am that my dh or I cannot contribute to the creation of our future baby, I was also certain that as long as my medical conditions weren't involved in the making of a baby, it would be a success! The less needed I was in baby-making, the more productive it was going to be (or it is going to be, I'm still not sure what tense to use. Hence the terror). This moment, of the life-shaking fear that M must be feeling as her little one is ill, is the first that I've realized that we are truly dependent on 2 individuals to make us parents. I've always understood that intellectually, but it is the first emotional grasp that I've had on that concept. If something happens in M's life that needs her complete attention, surrogacy obviously cannot be her priority. I wouldn't want it to be her priority. I want more than anything for the doctors to call and tell her it's all been a mistake. Every test, xray, cat scan, and diagnosis have been wrong...and S is completely healthy. I don't want S to be ill and I don't want M to have to be under the stress of having so much medical uncertainty.

But I don't walk in M's shoes, I walk in my own, and I stand here shaking in my boots that there is yet another obstacle to jump over before I can hold my baby in my arms. Perhaps it's the lack of faith that I have in medicine, which is obviously founded in my own failed attempts to heal and exist for just a day as a normal, healthy, woman. Perhaps it's the fear that if it can stop me from being a mom, it will. Or, it may be the reminder that I truly have no control over my own parental destiny (or any destiny for that matter). I get it God. Aren't we done with the life lessons yet?

It's been quite a while since I've had the emotional breakdown that I'm having now. So far, I'm successful at drying the tears before my husband gets home, clearing my voice before I answer the phone, and smiling when I feel like screaming. I want to know why. Why do any little kids need to ever be sick? (Hailey, you are in my prayers always) Why any parents ever need to know the fear of losing their child? (Maria, your in my daily thoughts) and why God needs to continue to threaten my motherhood? I'm pretty certain that a hysterectomy, menopause at 26, male infertility, and every woman I know under the age of 35 being pregnant is enough of a reminder that motherhood is going to be tough to come by.

Is this what happens when you have hope? It's not over, I know I'm overreacting a bit, but this is opening a wound that has not yet healed.