Thursday, January 28, 2010

complain less, blog more...I really should

If you've ever read this blog you have more than likely noticed A LOT of complaining in the last few posts. And if you've run into me in the past couple months there is no doubt in my mind I have informed you that a) I don't feel well, and b) this pregnancy SUCKS.

Time to change my tune. I need to have more empathy or sympathy, or maybe a little of both. As fabulous as I may be, it is not a Lilah-centered universe. So I have been doing a lot of thinking, and some crying (it's the hormones). Feel free to keep reading and indulge in some of my conclusions.

Here is a bit of background, I had one miscarriage. One. It happened in November 2006. Rob and I had barely been married a year and lived in Jacksonville, FL. It was the first time I had ever lived so far from home. We had our first appointment at 9 weeks and were able to see and hear the heartbeat. The excitement of that first time pregnant is like nothing else. You are fearless and throw your heart into a future you believe is guaranteed. I was there. Two days after that first appointment Rob went out to sea and I miscarried alone in the middle of the night.

I wallowed in my grief. As my pregnancy would have progressed I would see pregnant women and imagine what my growing bump would have looked like. I tortured myself as the months passed, calculating when we would have had a newborn, and then a one or a two month old. My arms felt empty and I longed for my child.

Then came Grace. As sick as that pregnancy made me, I wanted her so badly. I imagine I complained a lot less because as difficult as it was physically, I wanted that baby more than anything else in the world. In the end it was everything and more. I had an AMAZING labor and the sweetest angel baby God could have ever sent my way. After having Grace I was able to accept my first pregnancy was not meant to be, because she was. There were no more feelings about what might have been the first time. If there was ever a baby that was meant to be, it was my Grace.

Even though I don't know the pain of multiple losses or the struggle of fertility treatments, I have friends who do. These things don't happen to "other people." They happen to those near and dear to my heart. So, as nauseous as I may feel, I am going to complain less. If this is the struggle I have to endure to have my baby then I should be grateful that I don't have it worse. I need to remember the time before Grace and realize that some of my friends or family are still at that place longing for a child.

This pregnancy does not suck. What sucks is having miscarriage after miscarriage or painful fertility treatments that take a toll physically, emotionally, and financially. What sucks is what is happening to those poor people in Haiti. Although my stomach is constantly upset I do have a roof over my head, I don't worry where my next meal is coming from, and if I need medical attention I can get it. I have the most amazing little girl that ever was and a husband who's goodness is only surpassed by the size of his heart. Everyday I am surrounded by wonderful people, friends and family. I may feel sick but that will end and I will have a precious little child because of it. I need to stop complaining when I have much to be thankful for. I need to remember that my glass isn't even half-full, it's overflowing.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

belly full of ugh, uterus full of baby

I am 19ish weeks worth of pregnant. Almost halfway there. Sweet Lord, I am almost halfway there!! It has been too long since my last posting, but I will try to fill in the blanks. Things have improved, tremendously. My days are no longer spent living in the bathroom interfacing with the toilet. Vomiting doesn't happen every day, but on occasion my meals are launched into the the white porcelain bowl of disposal. This is great improvement, but does still leave room for advancement in my opinion.
My digestive system may no longer be on life support, but it still feels very much like it resides in the ICU. The slightest altercation or incident can lead to evacuation at a moment's notice. The tummy is always slightly nauseated, an ever present sour taste, and there is an overall feeling of "ick". I'm not one to complain, yeah right! I am one to complain, so my opinion of pregnancy remains the same. It is a giant load of suck.
With these improvements, I have been giving Zofran tablets another try. While they do not cure all, they can allow me to keep dinner and just scrape by with an upset stomach for the evening. However, Zofran is like the off-switch of my lower intestines. Halts the process, full stop. This leaves me having to "facilitate" what mother nature usually handles quite well. I feel like a hostage negotiator with my bowels. This often leaves me wondering if it was worth the pea size tablet I dissolved on my tongue a mere few nights before. The jury is still out with this one.
Most importantly, my outlook has changed. I still do my fair share of complaining (and then some) but I am starting to believe I may just survive this. I am also no longer paranoid that these efforts surviving pregnancy will be in vain. Whenever I hear the heartbeat roaring back at me like it belongs to a line-backer instead of my fetus, I realize that I am the one on survival mode and this child is kicking my ass from the inside out. It is oddly reassuring and leaves me with a smile on my queasy little face.