It’s been a very long road since October. I’m still traveling down that road and am sadly, yet joyfully, counting down the days until July 10, 2017. I found out that I was pregnant in October after having several bouts of insomnia, charlie horses in my legs in the middle of the night and then nausea. The nausea is normal for the most part so I couldn’t really consider that as a pregnancy symptom at the time, but the other things made me think pregnancy right away. I took a test, my last test hidden away in the cabinet, thinking that it would certainly be negative.
It was that month I gave up trying and wanting to get pregnant. We didn’t want to pursue IVF or interventions. I gave it to God, and talked myself into believing that another child was not in his plan for us and it was pointless to even desire more kids. I gave it completely to Him and focused on enjoying the family I have.
So, after the sleepless nights I decided I would take that last test. I sat it on the counter and went about getting dressed. I went to throw the test away, assuming it was negative, and there was the second line. It was faint, but it was there. It was darker than many of the previous faint positives I have had, I was in total disbelief. I must have stared at it for ten minutes in utter disbelief. I decided not to tell my husband because I was emotionally tired of positive tests, excitement, then disappointment. I picked up a few more dollar store tests, three to be exact…and took them over the course of the next several days. When they were obviously very dark I decided I would tell my husband. At that point I was sick already but blaming my monthly cycle. My daughter was about to leave on a trip with my mother so I decided to tell my husband the morning after she left. That way if it turned into another fading positive nobody else had to know this time.
I got some baby booties and made a home made card that would appeal to his affinity for math. It said “Three may be a prime number…but four is more fun”. I wrote a note on the back and put everything in a gift bag on the counter. He went about his morning routine, with the bag in his way, which blew my mind that he missed it. Then I hinted at it. When he opened the card, and read the back…he was near speechless. I don’t think he really knew what to say…other than “really??”. Not the best moment, but it was ours. We have had so much false hope that it really didn’t become real for a while, especially for me. Every day I knew the statistics on the likelihood of survival and would get a little more excited…and a little more sick.
The first two weeks I was close to my normal amount of sickness so I could pull it off and not tell anyone. Then it got bad and there was no hiding the fact I couldn’t cook or eat; and thanksgiving was coming quick. I was eating one tiny little gluten free chicken nugget for lunch and the same for dinner, and not drinking. I dropped weight quick. It was surreal now that I look back at it. It doesn’t seem possible that the human body could be so devastatingly sick because it is creating a new life.
I was too sick to do anything cute to reveal the pregnancy to family, and we couldn’t wait to tell everyone because of the holidays coming up and I was obviously not leaving home or getting up from my chair. I had taken a picture of a stick with acorns on it on top of a mushroom. Coincidentally, I took the picture the week we conceived and it just happened to have three larger acorns on it and one tiny one. I’ll try to set it as the picture for this blog. I made some cards on the Walmart website to tell our family. It simply stated “Happy Thanksgiving…It’s about to get a little nuttier”. Not everyone got it at first, but the expressions on my parents faces were priceless after they read it and it clicked. My mother had already been suspicious because being my best girlfriend knew we had been trying for a long time so she was the quickest to get it.
Once my mother knew and saw how sick I was she really stepped up and took over where my own mothering skills were lacking. She still does. She started making meals that had lots of leftovers for my daughter and husband then when I somehow got worse she started taking my daughter for about 5 days a week. I didn’t even realize she was gone most days. How awful does that sound? I was too ill, stuck in a chair in the bedroom on numerous drugs with the TV in the background running through every episode of whatever series I happened to turn on. Twelve hours or more a day that TV was on. I don’t remember anything that I supposedly watched. I had to be left alone because I couldn’t bear to be around anyone. One thing I regret is that I didn’t go to get fluids when I should have because I couldn’t imagine getting up and actually leaving the house. I wish my doctors cared enough to set me up with a schedule of infusions because I would have been more likely to stay hydrated. Going to the ER while pregnant during sickness and flu season is not something I was keen on doing but that is what they insisted we do. The minimal care received throughout this pregnancy is a sore spot right now; maybe because I’ve relapsed and was up sick all night several nights this week and lost weight again?
I missed routine OB visits and never got my prenatal blood work done. One doctors in the practice I see laughed at me when I asked when this would subside. I won’t be seeing him again. In reality, all of my doctors just kinda shrugged their shoulders when I begged for relief. I mean, my mouth was actually bleeding during one of my OB visits because I was so dehydrated…and all she could do was hand me a tissue, then refuse to prescribe anything different to try when I presented her with a medication used for HG that I had researched and felt comfortable taking. I decided not to even bring the topic up with the doctor at my 28 weeks visit this past week. She did mention being surprised that I gained any weight at all with how sick I was. What am I? A study to see if an underweight woman will gain anything if she doesn’t treat me properly?? Going on 29 weeks as I write this I lost over a pound this past week from being too sick to eat and not being able to have more than a few mouthfuls of food a few times a day and living on the edge of dehydrated. Truthfully, I don’t get much more than 16 to 32 oz a day when I’m supposed to get at least 60 oz.
Wondering why I didn’t switch doctors? Well, simply put, I was too sick and now it’s a little late. I prefer a small practice with doctors who have privileges at one of two local hospitals. I would like a practice that has at least one midwife that would be first to attend the birth if possible because of my experience last time. Nobody in my family agrees with using a midwife but I find them to be so much more thorough in their care and statistics on their intervention rates/mortality rates don’t lie. I’m fed up with doctors and if I happen to ever be pregnant again I will push to find a practice with midwifery. Unfortunately the one Dr./midwife practice I really wanted to go to because of past experience with their primary (and only) doctor on staff does not take my insurance and the only other one with midwives has privileges at a hospital I wouldn’t go to.
So, that’s a brief overview on the past few months. It was a blur. I’m 7 months pregnant and still sick but a few weeks back I finally felt up to sitting in a chair at the computer. I had to get a registry going for family to shop so I did that before working on my blog update. 79 days left.