Tuesday, January 18, 2011

How is pregnancy like a paper cut?

Or, to be even more vague,

"How is a raven like a writing desk?"

I couldn't sleep last night and though up an awesome blog post about how it feels to carry a baby that is half stranger. But of course, I can't remember much of it this morning, except that I had compared it to a paper cut. So bear with me.

When we first got our azoo diagnosis, and we realized that children that were biologically "ours" were out of the question, I felt like I'd been shot. I felt like I was going to bleed to death from the pain of it. Of course, that pain has dulled. Had it not, I'm not sure I would be a functioning human being.

It still hurts though. But it feels more like a paper cut than a bullet hole. How?

Think about a paper cut. A deep one. Sure, it hurts like the dickens, and you're irritated that you just got a paper cut, because really, how useless is that? But the pain fades until you go and use antibacterial stuff or get dish soap in it. Then it stings just as much as it did when you got it.

This DS thing is kind of like that.

Actually, it's a lot like that. It hurt to begin with, that this baby didn't ever have the chance to inherit my husband's gorgeous blue eyes or is perpetual energy or his ability to have a conversation with a tree stump.

Most of the time, I don't think about that. Most of the time, I think about our daughter, and how loved she already is, and how awesome it'll be when she gets here.

But then, something will happen to bring the sting back. Like a complete stranger commenting on how curly her hair is sure to be when they see Jeff and I together. Or conversations about other babies and which parent they look like the most, and knowing that while these conversations will surely happen about Cate, Jeff, and I, they will be skewed. I assume these things will always sting, like a never-ending, never-healing paper cut.

And really, how useless is that?


  1. this is a perfect analogy. I would have never thought about it like that. And I'm SO glad you talked about it because I worry all the time about these things, that when I get pregnant and have a baby it won't have any of my husband's genes. I always think about it, too, when people talk about who babies look like. And I'm not even pregnant yet!
    So I'm glad you've made me feel normal. That it's okay to worry about these things.

    I hope that your fears (and mine) are unneccessary. Maybe we can wear gloves?...

  2. I know that it's something that you'll be facing in the coming months after your daughter is born as that is the first thing anyone says to us when they see just how much Bubs looks like D. I honestly feel that the only thing Bubs got from me are my freakishly long toes.

    Now, I know we're in a different situation than yours because we used a known donor, D's twin brother to be exact, but it was still odd to hear at first. However, I've come to think of it as endearing because even if Bubs was completely unrelated she still can have qualities that liken her to D. You'll find your way to whatever feels right. <3

  3. I hope that feeling goes away for you, I honestly do. My son is almost 3 so I've been living it for a little bit now. People see what they want to see and I've had so many people say he looks just like my husband, he looks just like me, he is a perfect mix of us both, and even had people say they can't tell who he looks like. My mom was the first to say that. At the time she didn't know about DS and M was about 5 weeks old. She said something about him looking like a stranger. My heart JUMPED, but it didn't sting. I simply said "He looks like M." In the beginning for me it was sort of interesting to see how who he looked like changed from person to person. For me it doesn't hurt anymore. As he gets older he does look more like me, but he isn't a spitting image. People rarely comment on who he looks like anymore...I think that is really a baby thing. People are really caught up with that in the beginning, but the interest in talking about it fades with age unless the child is the spitting image of a parent.

    Cate will be y'alls daughter she will look like Cate and she will be beautiful because you are her parents. And, in the end THAT is all that matters!

  4. I am back after reading this when you posted originally. I didn't have any words then, and don't really now either. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate your sharing these thoughts. As much as I want to believe that this is something that I won't think about once we get pregnant, I know that it is a lifelong decision that we are making and that I will always think about it. Reading your post is so reassuring and validates my fears, not in a bad way, but in a way that just accepts that there was a loss, and will always be a loss. It doesn't mean that we will love our children any less or be a family any less, it just means that we will always have an unfulfilled dream.

    You've been so inspiring to me, and I really want you to know how much your posts mean to me. :)