Ah. It’s Valentine’s Day. A day to celebrate love by chocolate, cards, and a romantic candle-lit dinner.
It’s also time to pull out that sexy lingerie, light the candles, and turn on the romantic music because what is love without love-making?
Nothing like a good romantic holiday to remind us all that we are sexual beings with sexual desires.
Or to remind people, like me, the we have absolutely no libido.
So you go through the motions, pretend everything is going smooth, suggest an early bedtime (“oh, bed you say? certainly”) and turn around and fall asleep.
Is the holiday ruined?
Nope. Just delayed. But, to be safe, make sure to stock up on extra chocolate and super mushy cards to placate your partner. It will work, I promise.
Besides, there is always next year.
Until next time, enjoy your libido awareness day.
We Won the Lottery!
Way back in November, Ben came home one day and said, “I can’t do this anymore. I hate school and do not want to suffer through another 4 years of it.” The next morning, we talked to the VP of student affairs and agreed on a 90-day leave of absence. After that, Ben would determine whether he wanted to return.
Soon after starting my bed rest, Ben made his decision. He liked spending time with his kids and hanging out with his wife. He did not want a profession that wouldn’t allow him to parent and be a partner in our marriage; he wanted to do something that would satisfy his career goals and provide for a good home life.
I would go into further details, but it’s his story not mine. I will say that I am incredibly proud of him for making this difficult decision. It wasn’t easy, but he did what was best for him and his family.
Last year, I wrote about not choosing between work and family. The post indicates a problem in our society: many people do not have a suitable work-life balance. It is possible, but may require a great deal of creativity. For our family, both of us working satisfies this. Being a stay-at-home parent stresses me out, but I’m also not happy when I’m working insane hours (something that was happening at my last place of employment, and a reason behind quitting). The same thing (mostly) goes for Ben. Yet, if both of us are working, we make more than enough for our family and we have plenty of time to hang out with each other. Naturally, we must also have careers that we enjoy.
After submitting hundreds of resumes and applications, Ben received a phone call from a company asking for a phone interview. After that interview, he had another interview, then another interview. Finally, they called and offered him a position as manager-in-training. They pay for training, then put him in a series of different shifts with job shadowing for on-the-job training. After 6-12 months, he can be promoted to a managerial position with a significant increase in pay. He can rise as high as he wants in the company and gain excellent experience. Basically, this company seeks to train its managers so they can promote from within. They are also incredibly family oriented and have a number of minority slots filled by capable women and men. It is a wonderful opportunity and I am thrilled for him to start.
This job will require that we move to the city, something that we are more than happy to do and what I’ve wanted since quitting my job. The city has many more part-time job opportunities with universities that would be perfect for the path I am currently pursuing.
It feels like we’ve won the lottery. Not the multi-million dollar one, but the lottery of life. While many would consider it a set-back to start then withdraw from medical school, I see it as a good directional change. Why would I ask my husband to pursue a degree in something that doesn’t make him happy and would require that he spend far too many hours away from his family? 90-hour work weeks are cool if you don’t have a wife and kids who actually want to see you. (Which brings up a different topic entirely, how this country has unrealistic expectations for its doctors yet refuses to care for them.) I am just incredibly excited for this new venture.
I’ve Lost My Personality
I wrote this at the beginning of the week when I was feeling overwhelmed by everything. Luckily, my new medication is helping tremendously and I feel much more optimistic now. I wasn’t sure if I would publish it, however, it is important for people to understand HG and how it affects pregnant women.
This morning, I went to the doctor for a check-up. While we were talking about my constant sickness, I said, “Doctor, I’m done with this pregnancy.” He laughed and jokingly said, “well, I’ll have to send you to a different clinic because I don’t handle patients who are done this early.” (Before you make any incendiary comments on his behaviour, this is how our patient/doctor relationship is: I say something sassy and he responds with sass. It’s pretty awesome.)
Once upon at time, before nausea and vomiting took over my life, I would have laughed with him and said something witty back. Instead, my eyes filled with tears as I explained that I am tired of constantly feeling sick because I really want to enjoy this pregnancy. He looked at me, compassionately, and said, “I bet. I can only imagine what it must be like. Hopefully this new medication will work and maybe in a couple weeks you’ll feel better.”
I hope so too.
My husband and I used to have a relationship in which we could, appropriately, make fun of each other. Now, I cry. A lot. I don’t get or appreciate his jokes and he feels frustrated that we can’t have fun anymore. I understand.
What has happened to me?
I’ll tell you: hyperemesis gravidarum. I would blame pregnancy as a whole, but when I’m feeling good my sass returns (100 fold).
Right now, all I can think about is when/if I can drink water again (because soda turns into a disgusting enemy when it’s all I can drink) or actually eat a decent meal. Pregnancy with HG is not the joyful, it’s a physical drag. It takes all the zing out of life because I can’t enjoy anything. Even with medication, things are awful.
HG Without Medicine
-Throw up every 10-30 minutes
-Lose 5+ pounds in one week
-Can’t move off the couch without beginning the vicious vomiting cycle and/or passing out
-Must avoid all smells (including my husband’s cooking, which means that he can’t cook anything unless I’m away from the house)
-Can’t go anywhere outside the house because I risk vomiting and passing out in public places
-Can’t hold my little babies or hug my husband
HG With Medicine (specifically Zofran)
-Throw up 1-3 times a day
-Still feel incredibly nauseated
-Maintain a steady weight
-Can eat and drink in small amounts as long as I lay down immediately after
-Still can’t stand up for very long as I risk passing out and vomiting (so I am still stuck in bed or on the couch)
-Have to suck on Lifesavers (properly named) to keep the nausea at bay
-Must take consistently every 6-8 hours or my condition declines rapidly
I understand why women who experience HG choose abortion because it’s more than feeling awful, it’s debilitating. From medications to hospital visits, it feels overwhelmingly horrible. There are moments, like I’ve mentioned, that I wish I weren’t pregnant and/or that I were dead. At least then the sickness would disappear!
I try to remember that it will end eventually and that I will have that nice pregnancy I always dreamed of.
I don’t know how many times I’ve heard from various women that they would have preferred the puking over gaining 50 lbs while pregnant. Not to disqualify what they are saying, but you don’t. You really don’t. Just imagine how awful you feel when sick (at your most sick) and extend that to 3-5 months. I would gladly gain 50 lbs over losing 5-15 because I can’t keep anything down. Anything that would make this pregnancy more normal would be amazing.
But, more than anything, I would like to feel happy again. I want the tears to stop constantly flowing as I lay miserably on the couch or bed unable to spend time with my family. I want to laugh and joke and return to my sarcastic self. I want to brush my teeth without puking!!
Surely this won’t last forever.
*****
Most of you wonderful readers know my propensity of turning a trial into a possible research possibility; thus, it shouldn’t surprise you that I will be working hyperemesis gravidarum into my master’s thesis. I will work out the specifics over the next few months and am thrilled to start work on this project. (For current research look at the HelpHER website, a fantastic academic source for hypermesis gravidarum.)
Adieu
For those who have read my blog long enough, you know that I’ve always dreamed of having a large family. As in six kids. I have no religious basis the these longings, just that I love children and want to be surrounded by them.
This past year, after the third miscarriage, I was forced to re-evaluate my plans. Was wanting another child worth the emotional and physical strain of one, two, or four more miscarriages? I wasn’t sure. Ben and I agreed that one more try would surely mean a successful pregnancy. We were wrong. If I hadn’t become unexpectedly pregnant two short weeks after that fourth miscarriage, I am not sure if we would have tried again.
With this pregnancy, the hyperemesis gravidarum started early. It reached a point, sometime around 7 weeks, where I even cried (out of sickness) that I hoped to miscarry. (A very common desire for those who experience severe pregnancy-induced sickness.) What ensued was constant bed rest, continued vomiting, horrible headaches, and reliance on anti-emetic medications.
After seeing my miserable condition repeated day after day, Ben tentatively asked me if I could endure this again. I didn’t answer him immediately; I think it was about a week later that he repeated the question. This time, I had an answer: no. I couldn’t do this again.
I don’t need to explain my reasoning to anyone. I write today to remind my future self why I, we, made this decision.
Miscarriage
When I consider trying for another baby, it isn’t an exciting venture. Instead, I have intense anxiety as I wonder whether the pregnancy would stick or whether I would undergo another miscarriage. For those who have had one miscarriage, you can understand the deep sadness and anger that comes from losing your baby. Now multiply that, because the more miscarriages you have the more sadness and anger you feel. It takes all the excitement out of baby making and turns it into a stressful and angst-ridden venture. (I imagine my friends who have experienced infertility can relate to this.)
So I have to ask myself, is it worth it? Sure, if I welcome a baby it is, but if I have bleeding, cramping, and a possible D&C, than it’s not. The emotional side effects of a miscarriage are so complicated and ambiguous that it takes me months to recover and even longer to not sob every time I think of the lost baby.
HG
If the miscarriages weren’t enough, once a pregnancy sticks, I must contend with 24/7 HG. Not only do I throw up constantly, but movements, sounds, smells, colors, and sensations (like feeling my pants against my tummy) add to the nausea and increase my vomiting. The medicine I take to limit the vomiting has its own side effects: dizziness, migraines, continued nausea, and exhaustion (just to name a few).
I am on bed rest. I can’t take care of my children, help my husband, go to the store, or do anything by myself. I can’t even snuggle with my kids or husband. Taking a shower involves having my husband sit on the toilet just in case I pass out. Brushing my teeth induces vomiting. I can’t sleep, can’t eat, and can’t drink. It’s tiring, frustrating, and not a pregnancy experience I can handle again.
Risky Business
To top it all, there is fear. Even now, with everything going 100% the way it should, there is that small possibility that I can still miscarry. Pregnancy is a risk, all women know this. That risk increases if you’ve had previous problems.
I am positive, exceedingly positive. I am also realistic. I don’t dwell on what could happen I just acknowledge that risk exists. There are days when fear overtakes reason and I must cope with that. From experience I have learned that you can’t ignore fear because it only makes it bigger, so I must face it and show it that I am boss. Each showdown is draining and leaves me emotionally vulnerable. Frankly, I’m tired. I want to enjoy life; living with fear (even WHEN you are positive and happy) makes this hard.
The Decision
As most of you know, I don’t make decisions on a whim: I analyze; I weigh my options; I write lists of pros and cons; and, mostly, I self-evaluate. After considering my experiences, my current condition, and my emotional state, I recognized that this decision isn’t just about me. It’s about the family. And my family cannot afford another miscarriage (or slew of miscarriages) nor can I ask them to sacrifice while I have another difficult pregnancy. I know that we are strong and willing to support each other, but I am not sure if I could emotionally handle 4 more miscarriages and a pregnancy with severe HG. Frankly, I’m not going to ask my family or myself to repeat these last 2 years. We have each other, we have another baby on the way, and we are lucky.
It’s Not Over
With the decision made, I can now really enjoy this pregnancy (as much as I can right now) and remind myself and my husband that things will get better.
I also know that there are other options. My time as a mother hasn’t ended. I have my two beautiful kids, another on the way, and the possibility of other children–though not birthed by me–to raise. If I can convince my husband to complete the STARS classes with me, then we could eventually start fostering and might one day add to our family through adoption. There are also kids overseas who need a family. The point is, there are endless possibilities. While I am ultimately saying (and some might argue prematurely to which I say “go to hell”) good-bye to future pregnancies I am not barring the door to the future.
Whew. That was tough. Now I am going to eat chips and suck on Life Savers while crying copious amounts of tears because this has been an emotional, albeit necessary, post to write. To my future self: don’t worry, you made the right decision.
Why I Don’t Look to the Future
I am ten weeks today and crying that we’ve made it this far.
When I wake up and remember that I’m still pregnant, I feel my heart jumping for joy. I would join in if I weren’t laid up with HG. And if I weren’t struggling with incontinence.
I have had several questions regarding this pregnancy: how I want to do this birth, if we are going to find out the gender, etc. Honestly, I don’t think about those things. I am enjoying living day-to-day while not worrying about the future. The future will happen; but this day-to-day stuff can’t be repeated. Even if the routine includes bed rest, weight loss, incessant nausea, and medicine taken frequently to limit the vomiting.
Even though I had to quit my job, I’ve spent more quality time with the kids than I have in a while. With things changing–from pregnancy to ideology–I am finding more value in the extra time I have with Emily and Andrew.
When I quit my job, I didn’t feel sadness. It’s not that I didn’t like working, it’s that quitting felt right.
See, the truth is, this will be my last pregnancy. When the HG started, I felt relieved in knowing that I would need to quit. It meant more time to enjoy the pregnancy, my babies, and figure out what I want with my future. (Also, I will be starting my Master’s program in a couple of months. This would’ve been doable with full-time employment had I not been pregnant.) This is a special time that I can actually slow down and I feel lucky for this opportunity.
I don’t know what the future holds but I do know that I am enjoying the present.
From Working Mom to Sick Mom
It didn’t take long for me to realize that working while incredibly sick is impossible. Not only could I not focus on work, but I was constantly vomiting in the bathroom and worrying the kids and their families. It’s difficult to visit and interview families when I am dizzy and rush through things so I can run to the bathroom. In my field, I strongly believe that if you cannot or do not wish to help those you are working for then you should switch jobs. In this case, I really loved my job but sickness hindered my ability to help the families.
Last Friday, I gave my two week’s notice; unfortunately, after a weekend when I couldn’t move or get out of bed without puking, my husband called my supervisor and explained the situation. She agreed that terminating employment immediately would be the best for me and my health.
Thus, now I am unemployed and sick in bed. I can take medications but these medications don’t cure everything. I might stop throwing up as much; however, I still can’t get out of bed or off the couch. As soon as I stand up, move around, or get in the car, I start the vicious vomiting cycle.
Part of me is sad to bid adieu to working and the other part of me knows this is the best for me and my family. I will miss actively earning a paycheck but I also know that my time as a working mom isn’t over, it’s just put on hold.
This experience has taught me that continuing to fight for women’s rights is more important than ever. If my job had allowed flexibility–like working part-time from home until I stop vomiting–I would have continued. Unfortunately, like other women, I have found that many workplaces are not friendly to pregnant women, or women who have young children. In bureaucracies, this deficiency is even more apparent as autonomy for supervisors is limited; they must follow the chain-of-command which restrains their administering abilities and breeds ineffective management. A topic for another day.
The guilty feelings I expected haven’t surfaced, probably because I am much too sick for negativity. Or maybe it’s because I am happy that I can spend my time enjoying this pregnancy–the first viable one after so very many losses and most likely our last.
Lucky for me, the kids are in daycare for the rest of the month allowing me to rest and vomit in peace. And for that I am thankful.
The Five Senses of Pregnancy-Induced Sickness
Women who suffer from hyperemesis gravidarum (hg) vary in the intensity with which they feel it and how it afflicts their body. Therefore, I am going to explain how it affects me.
Hearing
When it comes to sound, loud noises generally increase my nausea. Along with that, certain sounds (that I can only identify when I hear it) induce vomiting. This goes for specific songs. For example, when pregnant with Emily, Ben would listen to Tears for Fears. After a week or so of playing their songs constantly, I could no longer listen to them without waves of nausea hitting me. With this pregnancy, the intro to Arrested Development, a show I have come to adore, does the same thing. Clearly, it doesn’t matter whether I enjoy something or not; sounds are not pleasant to my ears.
Sight
Cartoons, bright colors, and even snow leaves me feeling horribly ill. As with hearing, there are certain shows that, when watching, will cause nausea: football, Arrested Development, and most of the kids’ shows.
Touch
I’m a cuddly person. I adore holding my kids and snuggling with my husband. When pregnant, this is not the case. Do not hug, touch, or even come near me as I might run to the bathroom.
Smell
Most pregnant women experience a slight increase in their nasal awareness. For me, this change is extreme. Take the smell of my husband. I adore Ben. But, right now, I like him more when he is sitting across the room from me. I can’t explain what it is about his scent that has me puking into my bowl, but it does and I find it extremely aggravating.
Taste
Food is tricky. There are times when I crave things like spaghetti. However, when I eat it, it’s like I’ve been poisoned. This makes eating more than a chore, it becomes painful and frustrating. Around 6 weeks, all I wanted were wraps made at our local grocery store. After 3-4 days, I couldn’t stand the smell of them. The same goes for fries and milk shakes. For about a week, those were like manna to my tummy. I guess that since I’ve thrown it up more than I can count, I’d rather go hungry than force myself to choke it down. In some ways, it feels unfair that I wake to my stomach grumbling and my mouth dry because anything I eat and/or drink comes up like 10 minutes later. But, that’s how it is.
Naturally, when people find out the extremity of my pregnancy-induced sickness, they offer all sorts of remedies: ginger, Zofran, chicken noodle soup, etc. These things work great when nausea is not associated with hg. But, for me, they make things worse by increasing nausea and/or vomiting or have side affects that leave me suffering from other ails.
In one website that attempts to inform the public of what hg is, they encourage people to think of their worst bout of the stomach flu or, if they had it, food poisoning. Consider how it would feel if you had it 24/7, 7 days a week. That’s how it is for me and other women who have hg. And, depending on how this pregnancy goes, I could suffer through it the whole time. It didn’t end until I was 30 weeks along with Emily and I can only guess how things will go with this pregnancy.
As frustrating as the constant vomiting and nausea are, I do feel glad that I am pregnant again and that this pregnancy is going so well. (A strange thing to say considering the sickness, but that indicates a viable pregnancy in my case.) All I ask is that I am allowed to complain when things become overwhelming.
The Case of the Vanishing Energy
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.