One afternoon standing on dusty floors grimed from several weeks of construction, a ray of sunshine shone through the front window, and I heard the phrase, “This is where you will raise your children.” Of course, life did not quite flow that way. This time last year my level of fear and happy anticipation were through the roof. And then on that random Tuesday afternoon, 11 November 2008, the thin graham cracker walls came crashing down. Just reflecting on the moment sends shivers down my spine. Those next three weeks were the scariest of my life. How could Elimisha Fussell, Jerome Fussell, Celeste and Camden Fussell, commit such a crime? One thing is for sure. They enjoyed the activity enough to watch another person squirm to do it for free. They worked far too hard for far too little money to consider this a scam for monetary reasons alone.
Recognizing how deeply disturbed this behavior was and is created the scary part of that difficult time. That I would not become a mother yet again I could accept because that’s all I’ve known as I try to hear that little word, “Mama.” No, the sheer fright was to slowly understand who the monster was on the other side of the texting. Some people enjoy watching others suffer. But I write that in anger. The reality is that this group must have suffered at the hands of someone else; my core belief is that people begin with all the best intentions in the world. And then the story goes wrong. Evil does not occur in a vacuum; this type of behavior is learned and is a response to mistreatment–an eye for an eye, even if you poke out the wrong person’s eye, an innocent bystander to your twisted internal conflict. Feels good to get revenge on a world that done you wrong.
And this chapter of the story starts to close because it appears my apartment will have a successful sale. I’m moving on in so many ways. The freedom feels amazing right now and I happily begin to take care of all the last details here. Before me is a second chance. The woman who experienced that surrogacy charade a year ago is no longer around. She grew up and saw the light. Of course, I am that woman still and yet not her. Change happens and I’m fascinated to see what is next.
