When pregnant with Emily and Andrew, I was determined to continue working out and eating semi-healthy. Or, at least continue eating once the vomiting let up.
With this pregnancy, I have transformed into a slug. I have no energy. None. When I come home from work, I lay on the couch and won’t move until bedtime. Sometimes, I walk in and head straight to bed. On the weekends, I do nothing but sleep and watch football. Every little activity wears me out. Walking up the stairs starts a vomit fest.
But the truth is, I have no motivation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think of all those lost pregnancies and feel like I deserve a break. 7 pregnancies in 3 years is intense. I don’t have much to give this time around and don’t really want to give anything.
Eventually I will return and write about something that has nothing to do with pregnancy. As soon as I stop feeling dizzy when I look at a computer screen.
For now, if you would like to keep in touch, you could always visit me while I lay on the couch with Ben and the kids serving me. (Hey, if you could live like a Queen would you change anything?)
Post-Vacation Stress
I am thrilled to start work again tomorrow. I really like my job and have quite a few exciting tasks to accomplish within the next month.
I am, however, worried about one thing: how will I handle my pregnancy-induced sickness while at work?
(I do not like the term morning sickness. It does not adequately describe my–and many a woman’s–plight during these long months, with illness that lasts from sun-up until sun-up, 7 days a week. Thus, I use the term pregnancy-induced sickness, a better description in my opinion.)
I worked/went to school when pregnant with both Andrew and Emily; I am not unaware of the difficulties. However, going to school is significantly different from working a traditional 40 hr/week job. At least in between (and during) classes I could run to the bathroom for my puke-fest. And with my many visits to the ER, I could realistically sleep a bit the next day before resuming homework. With my job, however, I am in an office/classroom and have little flexibility with my hours.
At the same time, I really REALLY like my job. I wouldn’t be working there if I didn’t. I am passionate about Head Start and its initiative. I have seen the good it does in our community, and many other communities, and find my personal and career goals intersecting with my compassionate nature to produce a positive work experience.
Yet my trepidation is valid. What if my dizziness turns into fainting spells? What if I must start IV therapy? Naturally, the only way to know is by trying and I have no desire to quit. I figure I can push through this just like I did with my schooling. What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, right? And, besides, there are families and children that need my skills and empathy. So, hyperemesis gravidarum be damned, I will continue working.
Now would it be unprofessional to bring my puke bowl? We do have only one staff bathroom and one never knows when sickness might hit.
Have any of you mothers worked through pregnancy-induced sickness? If you did, how did you make it work? (Working includes staying home with your kids. As it always should.)
2011: The Year of Positive Change
While two miscarriages in a year might indicate suckiness, I publicly declare 2011 a success.
In 2010, the year of despair, I decided to make 2011 the best year of my life.
It began with medication, making my anxiety and depression manageable. Shortly after, I saw motherhood through a different lens which allowed me to enjoy parenting and really connect with my kids.
I suffered through my third miscarriage in May, two weeks before we moved across the country. While it was hard, emotionally and physically, I finally reflected on my religion that had promised me a healthy pregnancy, twice, which ultimately resulted in miscarriages. Since I was often wallowing in guilt–especially as a woman and mother–and confused by all the doctrinal inconsistencies, I decided to seek the truth, whatever the outcome. My conclusions were vastly different from what I had been taught I would find, so I finally said good-bye to Mormonism.
Leaving religion helped me find my voice. I evaluated my current goals against my dreams for the future and decided that my husband and I were equally intelligent and capable of caring for our family. We moved to the Midwest, Ben started medical school, and I became the breadwinner. We learned how a partnership really works.
In November, I had another miscarriage. Three weeks later, I found myself pregnant again. I discovered a new perspective with this pregnancy and left my worries about miscarriage behind.
At the viability ultrasound, we saw the developing embryo and a beating heart.
All these events culminated in a successful year and I can’t wait to see what 2012 brings.
That’s Life (And It’s So Grand)
While I had the best intentions of running a week’s worth of Top Ten in 2011 posts, my body told me to “stop that,” and rest.
So I have.
On Tuesday, I went to my ultrasound appointment and saw the most amazing thing: my developing embryo’s heart beat. It was strong and loud. I am happy.
The ultrasound also indicated just how far along I am: 6 weeks. With my usual track record of horrible pregnancy-induced sickness, I stick to the couch and to boring foods like instant mashed potatoes with saltine crackers. I no longer crave coffee, chocolate, or anything else delicious. Instead, I shun all things healthy, unhealthy, and seemingly delicious by reaching for the most bland foods my irritated pregnant body wishes to consume. My husband gets tongue lashings every day for ridiculous things. He patiently (and not so patiently) endures them and quickly forgives my outbursts. Thank God.
Between exhaustion and sickness, I do have brief interludes of productivity. During these moments, I managed to complete my master’s application. I am beyond excited to have this done and will now impatiently wait on an acceptance or rejection letter.
Right now, I am resting. Life will resume its outrageously busy pace next week, when I start back at work again, so I am taking advantage of this brief holiday by putting my feet up and watching countless hours of TV. And sleeping. I can’t get enough sleep. (Except for at night, when my body decides it wants to act uncomfortable and send me dry heaving to the bathroom multiple times, but I seem to do okay during the day.)
I am not sure what shifted with this pregnancy. Whether it’s the attitude of do-or-die (regarding the fetus) or the, hell what could possibly go wrong that hasn’t in previous pregnancies, line of thinking that has left me happily embracing each moment and living in the day. I don’t consider names, how I will deliver the baby, or what gender it is. Instead, I am content with a heart beat, the increasing nausea/dry heaving, and the muscle pain. I am satisfied with each day that my body holds onto the pregnancy and feel confident that things will be okay.
As computer screens increase the nausea and dizziness, I will be going on a brief hiatus. If and when I have a break from the sickness, I will return. But for now, consider this my good-bye until next year.
I hope all of you had a wonderful holiday season and enjoy your New Year’s festivities.
Top Ten In 2011: Kid Quotes
Leading up to 2012, I am going to post my top 10 picks of the year 2011. It’s going to be fun.
Emily and Andrew are brilliant, which also makes them scheming little squirts that plan every bit of their trouble-making escapades.
Andrew is, undoubtedly, our little goof ball. He enjoys hearing the sound of his voice echo in stores and outside (see #8) and has learned that the louder he sings, the more his voice echoes. He finds joy in jumping on and off furniture and me. His goofy grin always makes me melt.
Emily is the expert at talking her way out of trouble. She uses the logic of a teenager (and is equally incapable of recognizing the flaws in said logic). She has a wicked tongue that can spew things like “I don’t like you,” and “you’re my favorite” in one sentence. Clearly, she is an active observer of the world around her. Despite her sass, a quality she must have inherited from me, she gives the best snuggles.
I find myself laughing every day at the antics of these kiddos. The following is a sampling of my favorite 2011 quotes.
10. “I don’t like that!” -Andrew. No is overrated.
9. Me: “What are you doing up?” “I sleeping.” -Andrew, laying down on his daddy’s face with his eyes closed.
8. “LOTS AND LOTS OF FIERTUCKS [firetrucks]” -Andrew, in every store.
7. ”Go downstairs, Mommy!” -Emily when getting into trouble.
6. ”Daddy, I don’t want to go to Azzouri [Missouri]!” -Emily, when driving across the country. I think she feared the humidity.
5. “I watch Mommy show.” -Andrew, pointing to The Office. I’ve created an early addict.
4. ”I didn’t eat your chocolate, Mommy.” -Emily with chocolate all over her face.
3. ”I’m 21 and I drink beer!” -Emily, in the grocery store.
2. “Mommy, I don’t need to go to bed, I be 18.” -Emily, the master negotiator.
1. “Mommy, I don’t like the monsters. They have penis noses.” -Emily, referring to Sesame Street.
I think I lucked out with these two.
Why Blogs Need a “Like” Button and Other Completely (Un)Related Thoughts
Since I am horrible, no good, blogger, I am terrible at responding to comments. I read all of them, and usually compose the best responses, but writing them out seems impossible. Especially with my many distractions–admissions essay, work, Facebook, kids, and my husband.
What I need is a “like” button for comments, then all of you will KNOW I read them, even if I couldn’t respond.
*****
Recently, “i think i am the craziest person on the planet” search landed a person on my blog. I hope they learned the truth that I am sole owner of that title. Don’t you dare take it away from me.
I had other awesome search terms and carefully placed them in categories for you.
You Landed In the Right Place
“Make my husband last sarcastic” (Sorry lady/man, I can only help him become MORE sarcastic)
“sarcastic people have more illnesses” (Clearly)
“parenting fail” (after fail, after fail…)
“menu to gain 20 pounds in one month” (Hello! Birth control!)
“tired of being a mother” (I get it.)
Ummmm….
“how do you install the oh birth control” (read the instructions!)
“real gay moments” (not sure if you’ll find what you’re looking for here)
“making pee” (BECOME PREGNANT!!)
“gay love making” (no words)
Say it with me, “AWWWW!”
“support my husband for his medical school interview”
“closer i get to you 2011″
“blog post supporting duggar family miscarriage”
“little girl sweet kisses” (I’m going to assume this was innocent)
*****
In lieu of boring you with updates on this pregnancy, I am using Facebook. If you don’t have Facebook, and want boring updates, let me know and I will start an e-mail thingy.
*****
We celebrated Solstice this year with a candle light dinner and toasts to celebrate light starting to increase daily. It was awesome.
*****
Emily thinks the Muppets on Sesame Street have penis noses. What do you say to that? She also told the nurse on our last visit that “Mommy is getting a baby today!” Sorry to disappoint you, girly, but it’s going to take longer than 5 weeks for that to happen.
*****
Happy holidays to all of you! I hope you eat as much food as you want and think of me while doing so. You can bet I would be glaring in your direction as you masticate on all those delicious entrées and desserts while I sit with my puke bowl in my lap and munch on Saltines in the hope that I won’t vomit.
A Tribute to My One True Love
Today is my husband’s birthday; the man who I adore.
My mind returns to the early days of our courtship–me, a young 16-year-old; him, a 19-year-old; both of us uniting, 4 years later, under the banner of marriage.
Each year I consider how I might properly pay tribute to my hero and each year I feel I fall short. How can I celebrate a man who has taught me so much while watching me mature and come into womanhood? Who has supported me through pregnancies, childbirth, miscarriages, school, work, and so much more?
I conclude that I cannot. No celebration is worthy of his greatness; something I don’t exaggerate–like I am living some fairy tale–but reference because it is my reality. I have seen his faults, celebrated his victories, and continue to learn something new about him everyday (like how he prefers rainy over sunny days). Yet I have found with each minute, day, month, and year that he is still the perfect man for me. He is my soul mate (a term I don’t use lightly) and I will forever be grateful to the Universe in randomly uniting us.
So I must spoil him with gifts. Books, clothes, food, and sleep. As much sleep as he wants.
And I can gift him my words, though inadequate.
To My Sweetie:
I love you. I love you so much that my heart verges on exploding leaving a pleasant yet intense pain in my chest. Everyday I look at you and still feel those butterflies in my stomach. I am shocked that you deigned to look upon me, let alone date me. And when you asked for my hand in marriage? That day in Alaska? Tears well up because I knew then, like I know now, that no one else could compare to you. My yes was not tentative nor did it come with caveats. I promised to support and encourage you in whatever decision you came upon. So when you left for 2 years, and we broke off our engagement to make things easier, it was with heavy heart that I said good-bye. My only solace came from nightly sob sessions as the hole in my heart grew. But when we reunited, and you again asked me to marry you, I knew my future would only be complete with you in it.
I am proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished: undergraduate to medical school, you have worked your ass off and it shows. Yet you’ve kept our family in mind in whatever decisions you’ve made. Never letting things get in the way of our precious time together.
Last year, when things got tight, you picked up a second job. This year, when it happened again, you supported me in working.
You are the kindest, most compassionate man I know. Thank you for teaching me the real meaning of Christ-like love, even after I left religion. Without you, I would have still held onto my selfish tendencies; with you, I become a passionate person for those who are needy, under served, and far less privileged than we are.
I love you. Let that encompass everything I feel toward you.
With complete adoration,
Amber
Living In the Moment
It is 5 AM and I have been awake since 3. Partially due to increasing nausea and my new obsession with this pregnancy, and partially due to excitement as I consider the future. I have so much to look forward to!
- Starting a master’s degree program (if I get accepted)
- Receiving my Zumba instructor certification
- Mothering my 2 (maybe 3!) beautiful children
- Loving on my incredibly sexy husband
As I look at my growing belly (that isn’t actually growing, it has just remained pregnant-like since my last miscarriage and when I gained that 20 lbs from birth control), I think of my two healthy children sleeping upstairs. The trials, the successes, the sadness, the joy, it’s all part of this parenting ride. While there are moments when I want to pull my hair out, I am learning that many of these come from my own insecurities and fears. The more I discover about myself–my strengths and weaknesses–the more content I feel when it comes to the many roles I play.
I still have much to improve on but I feel excited as I consider the many possibilities that positive change brings.
And so I am happy to announce that I am heeding all your advice and thinking of this pregnancy as a day by day experience. I will probably have many pokes and probes in the future, all of which determining how the pregnancy is continuing, and I am realizing there is no need in worrying over every little thing. That’s my doctor’s job. Instead, I will be joyful for the experience I have gained and intent on putting it to good use, whatever the outcome.
Impatiently Waiting
Sometimes I wish I could rid myself of worry. I know that worrying is unproductive and even harmful to my pregnancy. As my doctor said, “if you convince yourself something is impending, it will certainly happen.” So I am trying to take this day by day and celebrate little things: 1) sickness; 2) back, hip, and breast pain; and 3) exhaustion.
[I realize celebrating these things might sound silly, and completely contrary to how most pregnant women feel, but I might as well see these as good indicators rather than frustrating aspects of growing a fetus.]
However, my memories recall feeling sickness and pain and exhaustion and things not continuing like I hoped. Even worse, the sickness did not increase like it did with Emily and Andrew, my only healthy pregnancies, and so I worry about NOT feeling sick or the sickness not getting worse.
It’s this constant game of telling myself to breathe and think optimistically while holding on to that fear and having the anxiety settle within my stomach. Deep inside, I want to fast forward 20 weeks where I could feel relatively safe. Yet I know that is impossible and that I should enjoy the next unfolding weeks.
How can I be so patient with my kids yet so impatient with this pregnancy and myself?
Writing is my only release as tension builds up. How can I convince my head things will be all right? I WANT to feel that. Somewhere in my heart I think it, I’m just having trouble convincing my mind. And, by golly, even if it doesn’t, I want to make this a terrific ride.
Will you help me? I challenge you to throw all the positive thinking you can my way.
Ready, set, GO!
I’m Speechless
In walked the doctor, with his clipboard full of test results from the blood they had drawn two weeks earlier. I sat on the examination table, with Ben across from me, waiting to hear what the doctor had found and still unsure of what I might do with the information.
Doctor: “Well your lab results came back with some interesting information: You’re pregnant.”
Me: [Eyes wide, breathing rapid, surprise written all over my body.] “You’re kidding, right? And will you please repeat what you just said?”
Doctor: “No, I’m serious. The nurse did the test like you requested and two lines quickly appeared.”
Me: “Uh.” [Lots of nervous laughter.]
Cue the sarcastic side.
Me: Well thanks for ruining my day.
*****
When I wrote about worry, I was referring to test results from the blood they had drawn at the [above] appointment, measuring my hCG levels and Progesterone. I wasn’t expecting any phone calls until Thursday, after they had drawn more blood to see if the hCG was doubling and that the Progesterone was increasing.
The news came back yesterday very positive, my initial levels were around 156, which indicated pregnancy. After the second draw, my levels increased to 333 and the Progesterone rose to 16.5.
So, I guess I’m pregnant. Again.
*****
Because I haven’t had a period post-miscarriage, I have no idea how far along I am. With a very narrow time frame for when I could have gotten pregnant, I am pretty sure it happened sometime within the last two weeks. Since there is no certainty of when I ovulated, I, and the doctor, must rely on hCG levels to determine everything, and based on those results I am around 2 weeks. Holy shoot.
While it might seem surprising that I am sharing this news so early, I have nothing to lose (no pun intended). This pregnancy will either stick or it won’t. I have gone through 4 miscarriages and know the drill, I know what my chances are and what most results mean when they come in.
However, I am feeling more optimistic than I ever did with the last four. This was unintentionally caught super early, which means I can start the Progesterone and other medications right as the blastocyst implants, a critical time in my obstetric history.
Thanks to my hypochondriac tendencies after every miscarriage, I am sure I am pregnant within a couple of weeks. I remain ill and hurting for up to 3 months post loss, and never know what that means. So, to give my mind and body a rest, I asked for a pregnancy test so I could see negative results.
That plan backfired.
What I must fight now is the constant tension I feel throughout my body. I worry. Constantly. Every morning, noon, and night I practice the breathing I learned through hypnobirthing to relax my body and make things as hospitable as I can for the embryo.
The next few months are going to be TOUGH.
But I am so glad I have this place where, with you, I am making the moments count.