Well that was depressing

Today was my midwife's annual picnic at the park where she invites all her current and past clients to get together and share and hang out. I had offered to make a scrapbook with birth stories and pictures, and had about a dozen participants. Sadly, i kept having to wait to print out everything due to the recent turn of events with finances and so i was up till 1 am this morning finishing it up. Then still wasn't done and was working on it until noon, the picnic had started at 11 am. So i hurried and finished and rushed off.

I got there and immediately knew it was a really BAD idea to go alone. I should have thought ahead, i should have not gone, i should have just dropped the scrapbook, given Tuesday (my midwife) a hug and left. But i did neither. Instead i let the kids play, let ds walk around on the grass and pasted a smile on my face telling myself this was good for my soul to be around others who had birthed at home.

There was nothing good for my soul about today, and i hate that i sound like such a pessimist. Being surrounded by happy families, with dad's playing with their kids or cuddling their newborns in their arms was like a million little arrows to my heart. I was lucky in the fact that i didn't read through any of the birth stories, and only read through mine quickly for grammatical errors the previous night and that was hard enough. To read of those last intimate moments that DH and i shared, brought the tears on. Because in all reality, it's been 13 months since we shared any intimacy and that was on the day our son was born. But even then, it was a different type of intamacy and i think in that moment i knew that i would one day be doing it on my own.

I walked off and entertained myself with the children, I didn't want to field the questions about where my husband was and what he did. I did not have it in me to lie or put up a fake front, if anything i'm not fake. Then about an hour later my midwife made her way over and asked where DH was. And i told her away with army training for the time being and she asked a few more questions and i let her know we were seperating. She was shocked, but not as shocked as most would be. I think people see it, they are just afraid to ever bring it up. Our marriage has never been one where you look at it and think or say 'WOW, those 2 love each other'. You may think 'WOW, those 2 love their children' but that's as far as it gets. She asked how i was doing and i smiled and said 'Tired'. She asked about my plans for surrogacy as I had already contacted her to make sure she'd be ok providing care for it, and asked if i would be ok doing the single mom thing with a surrogacy pregnancy. I reminded her i did most of my ds's pregnancy with DH gone with the army and she had forgotten. But ultimately i told her my IPs and I are truly just playing it by ear and waiting till next month to make any final decisions. She supported that choice.

Then later I was sitting around and a dad was telling his wife's birth story, she'd just given birth a week ago and you could hear and see the pride on his face. It was their fourth child and the birth had been all of 35 minutes long and then he ended the climatic story with how he was forced to catch his child and figure out what to do next and I about lost it. No one saw it, no one even noticed because i was hell bound and determined not to take this wonderfully proud and loving man's moment from him. So i smiled and told him how awesome that must of been. He told how the back up midwives showed up 10 minutes later (my own first midwives who hurt me so much during my surrogacy) and then they proceeded to talk amongst themselves about when and if everyone was going to have more children. And then about 5 minutes later i walked away. I gathered up the kids, i gave my midwife a huge hug and we left.

Today, my soul has had all it can handle. My 2nd daughter was born the exact same way, and once upon a time it was MY dh who was sitting there shocking and thrilling everyone with her birth story and his need to jump in and catch her. That had been my birth story once upon a time, and it had been my own proud and loving dh who had been sharing the story with anyone and everyone who would listen. I shared that enthralling and amazing moment with a man who i loved and trusted beyond belief, only to end up here. It hurt, i wont lie. And then to hear all these moms with 1,2,3 and 4 kids discuss when and if they were having more children, when i could say nothing was the topping on the cake. Yes, i am a surrogate and yes i intend on doing another. But DH and i had always tossed around the idea of possibly having a 4th a year after the surrogacy. As DS grows I find more and more that 3 is not the magic number for me, that i would like a 4th (despite how crazy they drive me with no sleep and high neediness!). And i couldn't bring myself to say "Oh well, i'd need a husband to do that" nor could i bring myself to even engage in the conversation.

And so tonight, i'm down. I know i'll be fine tomorrow. This is part of the grieving process (and i thank those of you who continue to read and comment as I don't mean to be a negative nellie) and it's the hard part for me because i don't do sadness or pity or crying. They are the emotions i hate the most in life, and yet as my therapist reminded me I must open myself to them or else i'll never learn and evolve. And tonight, I am sad. I am sad at the dreams and desires I am giving up by flying the white flag in my marriage. There's a song by Dido and years ago when it came out I told DH it was me, it's about never flying the white flag and that i will go down with this ship. But now, as i look at my three beautiful children, i realize i CANNOT go down with this ship because THEY will go down with this ship too. I have to fly the white flag for myself and for my children and that means there are sacrifices and lost dreams that will fall to the wayside in the wake of this destruction called divorce. I am trying to remind myself that divorce DOES NOT mean i am not good enough. It doesn't mean that i didn't try and fight hard enough. It just meanst that i am standing up for myself and putting my foot down and demanding a healthy life for myself and my children. I swear, i'm not one to give up . . . but yet i feel as if i will forever be judged as one who gave up too easily.

So yeah, that was my day. What normally is my favorite day of the year where i get to talk about my favorite subject of birthing and home births, was the worst day i've had yet. I'm sure next year i'll be in a much better place and so i wait and look forward to the healing that eventually comes from this. I don't want to lose my passion and love for home birth, i almost did once and that would be more than i could bear.