Week 9... When will this end?

Truth revealed here, I’m actually writing this post on day 3 of my 10^th week, but who’s really keeping track?!  ME- actually. I am firmly aware of every single day, minute and moment of this experience thus far.   The reason why I’m so keenly aware of what week and day it is, is that I’ve been SUPER DUPER sick.  Every minute, of every single day. No such luck with just having morning sickness with this amazing pregnancy journey, nope, somehow I got the "sick all the time" experience card.  In some ways I blame myself…. I was the one who said for all those years, I’d give anything to be pregnant, I’d be super sick every single minute of every single day, if only God would help answer my prayers.

And low and behold he did.  Every single prayer, including my willingness to bear the sickness.  So here I am sipping Sprite (one of two things that taste’s absolutely tolerable (not good, just tolerable)- everything else is on the “bad tasting” list) and trying to write a recap of what happened last week.

The truth is, I honestly feel bad both physically and emotionally for how I feel about being pregnant.  So far, it is nothing like I hoped, prayed, dreamed it would be.  At risk of being too graphic and unpleasant—maybe I should give a warning to stop reading now if you don’t want to hear an emotional, over-tired, bloated and sick cranky lady go on and on.  So far pregnancy has been comprised of feeling terrible, horrible every single day, followed by brief moments (when we get an ultrasound) of excitement and awe of the miracle actually taking place inside of me. 

This past week (week 9) brought a time when I had become so worn down, so over the top sick, that I started to waive the white flag.  I texted Jarrett one afternoon, as I laid on the rock ground in our backyard (yes, I literally laid on the hard ground) to try and get some sun.  One of the 15 “useful remedies” for getting rid of nausea and vomiting in pregnancy is to “get some fresh air and sunshine”.  Earlier in the day I had gone through the entire list of other suggestions and decided might as well try the sun and fresh air.  Now you may ask yourself, why did you lie on the ground, no it didn’t say anything about that in my list.  The lying part wasn’t actually by choice, anytime I got vertical that day, my stomach would regurgitate anything left in it.  Hence the need to lie flat on the ground.  I texted Jarrett, “Can you talk in 5 minutes?  I’m feeling really sad and can’t stand feeling this sick anymore.”  I hit send and before my finger could away from the screen, he was calling me.  Being that  he is really the only one I can truly share with how I’m feeling, I broke down.  I said, “Jarrett, I had no idea it would be this hard. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t keep feeling this sick without getting worn down even more.”  He, as wonderful as he had been through this whole thing, let me vent, complain and get out my emotions, and then he said, “It’s time to call the doctor and ask for some medicine.”  I wanting to be “as tough as nails” like my other girlfriends (moms) are that have been pregnant, but I was waving the white flag.  I agreed, hung up the phone and called my doctor.

As most doctors offices (at least I think this is how most are), I left a message with the triage nurse who would call me back before the end of the day.  I then went to lay on the couch- in what has become permanently indented with my body imprint.  Less than an hour later the nurse called me back as I was literally choke-gagging down some cottage cheese for lunch.  I answered the phone with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.  She said hello and asked how I was doing.  In a typical, no thought response, I muttered, “I’m okay. Thank you.” To which she completely called my bluff.  Like a mom can sense when something is wrong with her child.  Nurse Jan- a stranger on the other end of the line, had seen through my attempt and called me to bear my truth.  I, now choking back tears, said, “Actually, I’m not okay.  I’m having a really hard time.”  She went onto to listen carefully as I told her the struggles I’ve been having with trying to get any food down and how my goal of 3 liters of water a day, sometimes turns out more to be like 40 ounces total.  I said, “It takes like I’m drinking pennies in my water and I can’t stand the taste anymore.  It makes me sick.”  An obvious expert at listening to hormonal, pregnant ladies, she said, “I’m so sorry honey. We are going to get something to help you.”  I wanted to reach through the phone and bear hug her like there was no tomorrow.  She made me feel like I wasn’t the biggest failure as a pregnant mother (seriously I felt like I’m already failing the child and I haven’t even given birth to) and that it was okay I was asking for something to help feel better.  She said she’d call in a prescription and walked me through the instructions of when to take it.  I asked her if the medicine could harm the baby and she reassured me it is completely safe. 

Three hours later, as I pulled into Walgreens, I couldn’t wait to get home, until bed to take the medicine with the hopes of finding some relief.  That night when the time came, I took my two pills (which by the way are super cute- they have a picture of a pink pregnant belly on  them).  I drank an entire huge glass of water and let my head hit the pillow.  It was 7:34 p.m.  That night, despite getting up 6 times to pee, I slept the entire night, only to wake up the next morning feeling human once again.  While I didn’t feel wonderful, I felt human, and that my friends was a MAJOR improvement.  For the first time since February 8, I slept through the night and didn’t lie awake in pain, holding my stomach, from the hours of 1:00 a.m. and 5:00 a.m.  A MAJOR improvement indeed. 

In other exciting news, I have a bulge.  Before you get too excited, let me clarify.  It isn’t a baby bulge.  It’s a bloated, unattractive and totally NOT cute bulge.  I understand with pregnancy one’s digestive track slows down considerably to allow the body to harvest the nutrients out of the food before the body expels it.  While great news for the growing fetus, it is crappy news (or lack thereof literally) for the host.  How do you like that, I’ve started calling myself a host.  Kind of like a leach clings onto its host to suck the blood from, the fetus inside of me is sucking out the nutrients and leaving the waste behind.  Yet another wonderful thing about pregnancy.  Is that where the glow comes from?  NOT!  Thankfully I’ve expanded my diet to include prunes- they work wonders and as long as I pretend I’m eating a squishy grape, I can get them down without throwing up.  I’ve learned to appreciate going to the bathroom more than ever. 

One more comment about that before I step off of this soap box…. This whole process is a catch 22.  See the only way from keeping myself from tossing the contents of my stomach or at least dry-retching them over and over, is by keeping it from getting empty.  This means you have to eat regularly and so far carbs seem to be about the only thing that will make it down.  Like loading a clothes washer, you can only load so many clothes before the machine starts vibrating across the floor with a beeping noise of being unbalanced.  I’m completely unbalanced and it doesn’t feel good.  I’m stepping down now.

In an effort to try and turn this crabby train around I’m going to attempt to do what other beautifully pregnant bloggers do and share highlights.  Here is my attempt….

How far along are you? 9 weeks

How I’m feeling?  Think I’ve been pretty clear on that front.

Total weight gain…  Not sure… think I’m down 2 pounds from the scale I have at home, but feel like I’m full of at least 5 pounds of bloat

How big is baby? The size of a grape.

Maternity clothes…  Nope.  I’m planning my attempt to do this wardrobe thing on the cheap---- many of my friends are done having babies, thus they’ve passed along their maternity clothes.  So I’m brainstorming thrift stores, with half off days, to shop at when the time comes.  Additionally, I’m tagging those clothes in my closet which can serve as maternity shirts too. 

Sleep…  FINALLY, with the help of those pretty little belly pills.

Best moment this week… Seeing just how happy and excited Jarrett is about this news.  He is so thrilled.  Oh and he continues to tell me I’m beautiful, although I won’t let him come closer than 100 feet to me.

Movement…  Just the gas rolling around inside

Food cravings… NONE, wouldn't eat at all if I didn't have to.

Food aversions… EVERYTHING.

Belly button in or out… In

What I miss… Feeling good and going for a run. 

What I’m looking forward to… Getting through the first trimester, being able to tell people and to (Pray to God) feeling better.

Milestones…. We have to decide about which of the many genetic tests we want to do.  I’m “advanced maternal age” for cripes sake. 

Until next time,

Angie

PS:  For any friends or family reading this, and who are suffering infertility, please accept my apologizes.  I realize whole heartedly that my honest-unpleasant feedback about the raw emotions, feelings I’m experiencing, are gut-wrenchingly painful to read as someone wanting nothing more than to be a parent.  I am sorry.  I do not intend to cause harm, pain or sadness for you.  In fact, I’m internally struggling with myself each and every day for feeling this way.   I feel sad, disappointed and overwhelmed most days for not embracing this news with 100% happiness.  The truth is, this baby was a complete surprise.  Jarrett and I thought we were finished with having children.  Our three adopted children are more blessings than we thought we deserved.  To have God grant us this pregnancy after years and years of infertility and being told I would never conceive naturally is nothing short of a miracle.  I recognize that and I’m still trying to process everything.  I write this blog to recount my honest, true emotions and so that someday I look back and remember how thankful I need to always remain.  If you can find the strength to continue to ready my posts, I hope you can ignore my negativity and instead find hope in the fact that if “NEVER” can turn into “REALITY” for us, then your dream of becoming a parent can be a reality and not just a dream too.   Please know I do not diminish, lessen or even have gotten just how painful and unpleasant the infertility journey is.  I pray for you, I know what you feel, and I beg you… Keep the faith and stay the course, the adventure on the other side of the obstacle, is worth the journey.