This post is so hard to write. My eyes fill with tears as I write it. And it is such a silly thing. The moment I write this post, I move on from my journey to bring Isabella here. The moment I post this entry, she moves down the list. The moment I move on, the amazing and beautiful adventure of bringing her here falls into the realm of the surreal, the past, the completed.
Life has gone back to normal. I find joy in my children, in my husband, in my family, and in my home. I can run again. I can bend again. I can lay down with my son on his bed and be able to get back up. I can curl up and snuggle in my husband's lap.
Some days, I don't even think of Isabella. Some days, it seems like a distant dream. Some days though, it is so real I can't believe it's really over.
Some days, someone at work asks me how my baby is.
Some days, someone asks me if I'm pregnant.
Some days, someone asks if I ever see her.
Some days, I realize that three short months ago I delivered a baby.
I am grateful for my life. For my children. My husband. This world that I have worked so hard to build. This is my happiness and my joy. This is the life I always wanted. The life that I have fought for. The life that I thank God for every day.
This is what we all deserve- to live the life we want.
Whenever I say I wish I had made a better choice, or I could have done something differently in my life, my husband tells me that he doesn't. He reminds me that every choice, every happiness, every sorrow, led me to him. And I know this is true. Without every choice I have made, I would never have found him. And I know that with him is where I am meant to be.
Whenever I question the choices that led me to becoming a mother at eighteen, I remind myself that each of my children came from that choice. And I know that with them is where I am meant to be.
When I think about being a surrogate, I feel the same way. It is what I am meant to be. It is in my life plan. Just as I am a wife. Just as I am a mother. I am a surrogate. And no matter what comes in my future, it will still be a part of my soul.
It is the life I want to live.
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That just about sums it up Emily. You will always have the memories of the journey and most of the time the memories are enough. Most of the time.
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