I love being a mom. It is challenging and some days I really question what the CRAP I did to myself but there is nothing that can bring you so much intense love while making you frequently check your sanity. I always knew I wanted kids, lots of them. I never really settled on a number, I just knew I would have several. Then life kinda happened and my intro to motherhood was kinda whacko. I don't think any eighteen year old really knows what the heck they're doing with ANYTHING in life, much less motherhood. Alone, no less. I also don't think any nineteen year old knows how in the world to navigate life raising a step child with the really complicated diagnosis of Reactive Attachment Disorder. And while not physically alone, necessarily, most definitely emotionally unsupported. So why? Why did we not stop there? Gosh I really wish I could answer that. Some times babies just come, even when we don't want them to. But it always seems to play out in favor of the family as a whole. This was my first son. He tied my husband and his son, my daughter and I, all together. He came way sooner than I wanted another child to come! His pregnancy was hard. I was pretty nauseous most of the day, and that persisted up until around sixteen weeks. I slept like a rock, though. That was a major plus with a toddler! When it came down to my third pregnancy, we had actually planned it (such a weird concept!! hahaha) and we struggled with getting pregnant for several months. When I finally did get pregnant, I was sick. I was actually sick before I could take a pregnancy test. And from there, the nightmare of hyperemesis gravidarum unfolded. I was sick, 24/7. I could eat nothing more than a bite of strawberry jello or a sip of chocolate milk for six. months. I resented my baby. When we found out he was a boy, I sobbed. I did not want a boy! I wanted a girl so bad so I could be done having kids and never have to endure this hell again. And of course, I feel awful about these things now! Because having a healthy baby is such a huge blessing and I love my little boy to pieces. But the truth is, the journey of bringing him here traumatized me to the core. Because of the experiences I had with such debilitating nausea, I developed an extremely unhealthy relationship with food. I began to fear it. I became hypersensitive to it. And after the pregnancy ended, I couldn't eat so many things I once enjoyed and I couldn't stand the smells of the majority of foods. So I found myself going hours without eating. I didn't think about it and became so good at ignoring my body's hunger cues, that it really became a huge problem. During that pregnancy, I started struggling with hypoglycemia. This only worsened after having my baby. I knew I wanted a little girl, I had dreamt about her for so long! So I set out to heal my body. I took to the internet to search for causes. Why did I get so sick? And more importantly, what could I do to prevent it from happening again? It is amazing just how many theories there are on the causes of HG. Bacteria, H. Pylori, genetics, parasites, liver disease, gallstones, food allergies, blood type conflict, some people blame the father's genes, or just mom's body trying to reject the baby. I knew I needed to heal my body, even if just for the sake of feeling BETTER! So I went on a strict regimen of high count probiotics, raw vitamins, I was tested for Celiac Disease (negative..), tested and treated for H. Pylori, SIBO, ulcers, nutritional deficiencies, and went off gluten 100% regardless. I still struggled to gain weight, but I actually started to FEEL better. I was still terrified of another pregnancy but the time line I gave myself was rapidly approaching. But I needed more TIME! "Psych" says Life. Earlier this year, we found out we were expecting another baby. We found out super early on, thanks to my extreme paranoia about being pregnant (insert eye roll here). And I immediately knew I needed to pursue different care right away. I found a midwife that was familiar with HG and willing to see me right away (most providers refused to schedule before ten weeks). I actually felt totally fine, up until the day before that appointment. At five weeks, it hit me like a truck. I was immediately prescribed home health care, several anti-nausea medications, IV vitamins, and put on bed rest. After three weeks of rapid weight loss and PURE TORTURE, I was referred to Maternal Fetal Medicine; AKA a-holes. I was told I would need a feeding tube placed by one doctor, only to be told by another that HG is just crazy and in the head and I would need to lose (x) amount of weight in addition to the near 10% of body weight lost to qualify for that sort of intervention. Can you say crushing? I felt like I was dying. My baby was only the size of a raspberry and I was failing it miserably. Why was my body betraying me? Why was this happening again?? Where was God??? I had prayed SO HARD to have a healthy pregnancy free of HG, so what the heck?? I decided to take an early gender blood test at nine weeks. It would either devastate me (I know, I am so awful) or help pull me through this hell. When we got the results back and they said IT'S A GIRL!, I was shocked. I sobbed before I could mutter the words to my husband. This was it. This would be my final pregnancy. I won't have to go through this again. Several weeks have ticked by. Thanks to the generosity of neighbors and some family, the first several weeks were made more bearable as meals were brought in and laundry was folded and dishes were washed.
As I approach the halfway mark of this pregnancy, I try to patiently wait for more relief. I am so tired. There isn't anything quite as emotionally, spiritually, and physically draining as this level of sickness. People constantly ask me how I'm doing. But what do I say? My ribs hurt from vomiting so hard? I hate food? I can't shower without almost blacking out? I can't keep my blood sugar up? I'm living in my own personal hell? I feel alone in this? I hate this? Nobody likes to hear whining, especially if it lasts this long. So I keep it. Each day is about survival. My husband brings a bowl of cereal and glass of milk to the bedside before leaving for work. When I wake up, I feed most of it to the two year old I share my bed with still because I don't have the strength for that fight and I choke down as much as I possibly can. I then sit in bed until lunch time and get up only when the dog starts barking to go out. I then sit on the couch watching PBS Kids until 4 o'clock when Dr. Phil comes on then the news then the national news then Dev comes home and then leaves again to get dinner for the kids and I sit and sit and sit and sit and climb up the stairs to bed, where I sit with the two year old king on the iPad until I finally submit to the need of taking my vitamins, which always require tons of breathing and praying and hoping I won't gag them back up. In between, I try so hard to snack. Some days I get lucky and am able to eat more than three bites of a tasteless item or applesauce. The other day was a HUGE win when I randomly scarfed down an entire gluten free burrito for lunch. AND KEPT IT DOWN. But there is nothing like being hungry, starting to eat, and your body refusing to swallow. It just isn't fair! The overwhelming feeling of being alone is one thing I don't speak of. I am so alone. My kids don't want to spend time with me. I don't have the strength to take all of them out of the house. I have just recently started attending church again, which is incredibly draining but it is my only opportunity to be around other adults. Even though I hardly socialize. I feel like I have been robbed of such a tender sweet time in life. I would have more children if it weren't for this awful reality. The life of my family has been permanently altered because of these experiences. Pregnancy is no walk in the park, for sure! I don't know anyone who had a super awesome sick free happy glowing pregnancy. Growing a human isn't really SUPPOSED to be easy. I get that. I just wish that the people who constantly recommend ginger, crackers, soup broth, lemon water, preggie pops, peppermint, and all the other "try this" comments I've gotten, would understand what this was like. And wouldn't judge so harshly. Yes, I take medications known to cause birth defects. What else am I supposed to do? I know that this sweet little girl will be all worth it. I just really hope that I can look back on this time in my life and use it to help someone else. I hold onto this not being in vain. Sometimes that is all that gets me through.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
October 2018
Categories |