Emotional Restraint vs. Hope

Every nurse faces the same challenge at some point in their career. I faced it last semester during a clinical rotation for my nursing program. I was part of a cardiac code team; pounding on a woman’s chest as the rest of the team provided her with oxygen and various meds in an effort to resuscitate her. But we failed, and just like that she was gone.

When the physician told me to stop compressions, I stepped back, took a few deep breaths as he called the time of death…and I felt numb. This was part of my training. As nurses we are taught to care for our patients like we would want our loved ones to be treated. We are also taught to distance ourselves emotionally. For a good ten or fifteen minutes, I achieved that goal. I had given all I had to give, while still trying to protect my own emotions. It was while we were preparing her body for the family to view that it hit me. I saw one of the techs remove her wedding ring to give to her husband, and with that, the numbness cleared. I promptly excused myself, went to the bathroom, locked myself in a stall and cried until the burning in my eyes forced me to stop.

It remains a mystery to me how we are supposed to care for someone in such a deep way and then not feel broken inside when our best attempts to save them fail. The good news? I cried a little less the next time this happened.

I have tried to approach this surrogacy journey with the same caution. I try to hope for the best…but only in an emotionally restrained way. I can nurture the idea of having a child, but I have to stay emotionally distanced to protect myself. But every once in a while I can feel myself slipping, and today I allowed myself to do something dangerous.

We got a report from our agency telling us that our Egg Donor had a preliminary scan that showed 20 follicles developing. I became really excited. This was the first news that we’ve gotten that makes me feel like it’s all actually coming together and that’s when it happened: I let myself really hope that this will all work out. I threw away my restraint, and let myself really hope.

The problem with that is, the further you get your hopes up, the further they have to fall.

I know when it comes to IVF and surrogacy, there are no guarantees. But despite my best efforts, I’ve already managed to: mentally design a nursery, wander down the baby aisle at Target, start thinking about names I like, start eliminating names I don’t like, and start making up new and inventive names like “Ragdoll Curtain-rod” …you know, in case I take off as a celebrity. This is all very well… but it’s also a game of emotional roulette. What if this doesn’t work out, and all I’m left with is the image of a nursery that my little Justin Case will never exist to use? (Hey, if Kim and Kanye can have a kid named North West, I can have a kid named Justin Case…but really, celebrities need to stop with the cruel names.)

Financially, this process isn’t cheap. We’re extremely fortunate to be able to try this even once, as we fully realize there are others who don’t have that luxury. However, we can only afford a certain number of tries until we would be forced to take a hiatus in order to reestablish our funds. I think some people assume that because Frankie is a physician, we’re rolling in money; when in reality we’ve only done that once and it was after a very odd night in Vegas that we choose not to speak of… (Because you know what they say, “What happens in Vegas, makes you feel like you need a shower and antibiotics”… What’s that? That isn’t Vegas’s motto? Huh.)  In all seriousness, we’re not struggling, but we’re not thriving just yet either. Medical school isn’t cheap, and we have a combined student loan debt that exceeds the cost of the average home here in the US and last month Frankie’s loans came out of deferment, so it's time to pay the piper.  If we ever want to have a mortgage or perhaps a college fund for any children we might be fortunate enough to have, we need to work on paying down our own debts. To sum it up, when it comes to more attempts from scratch: Our spirits are willing, but our pocket books are weak. 

So, I try desperately to keep myself in a state of restraint, but hope is a powerful emotion. I’ve allowed myself to get too close to patients, and that’s left me in tears. I can’t allow myself to become too close to the idea of a child that might never come in to existence because I’m afraid of what that might do to me inside.

 But what I can do is cautiously wish for one of those 20 follicles to develop, be fertilized and become something that will make our lives complete. I can cautiously wish, and leave the rest to fate.