Thin Skin

I want to thank all of you, from the bottom of my cold, shriveled heart, for responding so kindly to my Internet-Hissy-Fit last night. Not sure if it was more Hissy Fit, Temper Tantrum, or good old-fashion Pout, but either way, I sincerely appreciate the kind comments that followed. And, while I have never been shy about the fact I am a comment-whore on this blog, I can reassure you that despite what someone in the guestbook said (hopefully, jokingly) about that post being nothing more than a ploy to get more of you to sign in and leave a note, that’s not the case at all.

I realize that it’s my PERSONAL blog, and my PERSONAL stories that I share, and people can take it or leave it. However, maybe I’m just not tough enough, but when I read a comment that leads me to believe I’ve stepped on someone’s toes, or someone doesn’t like something I’ve written, about my PERSONAL life, I take it, well, personally.

Yes, when Kendrie was in treatment I wrote on her Caringbridge site for therapy and would have done so no matter if anyone ever read it or not. The empathetic, supportive notes I received back were simply icing on the cake for the mental peace that blogging about our cancer experience gave me.

Here, though, I blog for fun, and am not above admitting that I’m grateful the vast majority of the comments are positive ones. Not sure why people read if they’re never going to comment, and not sure why people feel the need to comment if they don’t like what they read. But, I’ve said it before, confrontation gives me hives and to that end, I am activating the comment moderation feature on this site, starting tonight. NOT because I don’t want to hear negative comments, and NOT because I only want the positive comments coming though, but because it just makes my life easier to know drama can be contained that way. Does that make me a dictator? Why yes, it does. So sue me. Or, just quit reading, how’s that for a suggestion?

Now, with regard to this surrogacy story, I think I have to be totally honest with all of you. About the fact that I haven’t. Been honest. Totally. I mean, honestly, I haven’t been totally honest … wait. What?

The truth is, I’ve been sort of, in a way, not a mean way or a deceitful way or hateful way but more of a little white lie way, been lying by omission. Yes, I know there are some of you who find it hard to believe there might still be parts of my life I keep private, but it’s true.

One of those things is the fact that I am currently working on my fourth surrogacy journey. I had it timed, or *thought* I had it timed, so that when I finished telling my surrogacy story here online, that I would be able to follow it up with the announcement that I am expecting. It was going to be quite an exciting announcement, and after seeing the baby’s heartbeat on the ultrasound last week, I couldn’t wait to get through the story, to my wonderful news at the end.

Unfortunately, while in Texas on Spring Break, I suffered a partial miscarriage. The day after that happened was the day I wrote my cranky post about surrogate compensation. Hmmm, hormonal, anyone? Last night, I was preparing to go in today for my d&c --- my second in five months, thank you very much, this surrogacy journey is not going as smoothly as the others, to say the least --- and found the comments, which led me to believe I had upset some people with my story telling and opinions and experience.

Honestly, a small part of me snapped, and I thought to myself, “You know what? Forget it. I feel shitty enough about myself right now as it is, and I don’t need this blog to make me feel even shittier.” Hence my decision to stop with the story. Who knew that in addition to whacked hormones and night sweats and cramping and bleeding and the feelings of guilt and fault and blame and incompetence and remorse and loss, that yet *another* symptom of impending pregnancy loss is EXTREMELY THIN SKIN??? But that’s what I had last night, and why I simply couldn’t face telling any more of the story if it meant I might upset even the minority of people reading it.

So thank you sincerely, honestly, and earnestly for your comments. Even though you didn’t know what I was going through today, they buoyed me in my time of need. And those of you who *did* know what was happening, thank you for keeping it private.

I am in a much better place mentally this evening and would be honored to continue the story. It is an extremely important part of my life, through good times and bad, as today so sadly reminded me. But if I can enlighten, or entertain, or educate (again, blah blah disclaimer about me not being a professional anything blahblahblah) with my experiences, then I’m happy to do so.

In the meantime, please put the baby’s parents on the top of your prayer list tonight. What I have been through this past week in no way compares to what they have been through, and they deserve much better. Hopefully I can still give that to them and get the happy ending to this story, after all.