Hello! As if you didn't already know, I'm pregnant! Keith and I are expecting a baby girl hopefully on or before April 8th. As I'm nearing the start of my third trimester (Praise this!), I realized that I have no real record of this pregnancy. No baby bump pictures every few weeks to document how big I'm getting, no journal entries or blog posts to note my symptoms. Nothing. So I decided that it's time to play catch up, if only for the reason that IN CASE I ever decide to get pregnant again (Highly unlikely... And it drives me INSANE when people say that I'll "change my mind" and "forget all about" these past six months of actual hell after the baby is born. I mean, really, do you even know me?! Do you not realize it took me 7 YEARS to decide to have this child?! I am stubborn and adamant. Also, Keith and I have always seen adoption in our future, before we ever even tried to have a baby naturally, so don't try to persuade me otherwise! Anyway, that's a different story for a different time), I will want to remember this journey. Just to convince myself that I could do it again and that I survived. Literally, I will need a reminder to survive.
So I guess I'll start at the beginning! After 7 years of marriage, Keith and I finally decided that it was the right time for us to start our family (that decision making process could also fill a novel). We had a Hawaii trip scheduled with some friends this past summer, so we planned on starting to try after we got home in June. Our thoughts were something along the lines of, "If "most" pregnancies require 3-6 months to "take", then we can start trying in July, and that way, I can most likely finish teaching through the school year, and we can have a summer baby. Awesome." But me being the overachiever that I am, got pregnant literally the first and only ever time we tried. Go figure. I truly believe it was because God KNEW that I would have changed my mind about getting pregnant by the next month, so if it was going to happen, it needed to happen now...
Okay, I just reread those two paragraphs, and I sound like I regret this baby haha. I promise I don't. We were VERY excited when the test was positive. I just know that I can't be the only person on the planet who has felt this way during their pregnancy. And even though, through the course of this blog post, I'm going to be honest and real to a point where to many people I will seem insensitive or selfish, I'm sure there are other women who need their feelings to be validated. The one thing that has helped me to keep my head up through this pregnancy is the encouraging words of friends and family members and just the reassurance that I am not alone in this.
So. We found out we were officially pregnant on August 2nd, I believe. At 4 weeks and 3 days. I took one and only one pregnancy test. It was positive, and I KNEW it was positive because my body was already starting to do unusual things. (Like I said, overachiever.) I had really intense gas, which I never have. I had to pee a lot more than usual. That was the most noticeable symptom because I honest to goodness have always had the bladder of a camel. I can hold it for DAYS. And I couldn't eat as much as I normally could! Like, I like to eat haha. But I would honestly eat like 3 grapes and feel full. It was weird. Anyway, Keith and I spent about a week and a half in this blissful, secretive state of knowing we were pregnant. We celebrated our anniversary and spent lots of time with family. Keith's parents were even in town that week.
Then I hit week 6, and it was a full blown nightmare. I was SO sick. And on top of that, school started that week. Being at work was actual torture. I was a kindergarten assistant teacher. And honestly, the energy required for that job is unimaginable. So I was struggling. I literally had to carry a barf bowl with me everywhere I went because I was just so sick. Long story short, I made the EXTREMELY difficult decision to quit (at least short term). I am NOT a quitter. Luckily my school and supervisors are awesome, and they told me that if things got better, I could come back as a para (general assistant) or something after the first trimester. I told them I would keep them posted on my condition.
However, my condition did not improve. I spent weeks and weeks barfing my guts out. I think in that first month, I dropped 12 pounds? 14? I can't remember. The only time I felt any relief was when I was sleeping, which was so hard to do because I was so constantly sick! I turned into a hermit. I never left my couch. Not like, I didn't run errands and go out and about. I mean, I never left my COUCH. I would wake up in the mornings, make it to the bathroom, and then to my couch, where I would spend the entirety of my day puking until I would make it back to my bed at night. It was painful. That first month, I had this insane crisis of identity. I am pretty high energy. And I went from working, hanging with friends to all hours of the night, going to the gym every day (Exercising is truly one of my favorite activities, and it killed me that I couldn't handle it anymore. It still does.) to being the couch potato that could put any other to shame. I literally could feel my muscles atrophy. I remember I couldn't open water bottles or the lids to the medication my doctors prescribed me to try and relieve the nausea. There was one time, I tried to go outside, and I didn't even have the strength to open my front door. I couldn't shower. Showering made me vomit. Brushing my teeth made me vomit. Standing up for more than 30 seconds made me vomit. Therefore I tried to avoid all of those things. I was disgusting. Honestly.
One of my best friends had her baby shower during this time, and I decided that I was going to venture out of the house and go! I was determined that I could do it! I hadn't seen any of my friends in over a month, which clued them all in that something was up because I was in NO way my normal social self. I didn't even get to celebrate my birthday this year. I love birthdays! Because I love cake! Sigh... Anyway, while getting ready for the shower, I obviously had to brush my hair. Goodness knows it had been days... I couldn't even make it through brushing my hair without throwing up. I somehow managed to clean myself up enough to leave the house, so I grabbed my handy dandy barf bowl and went to the shower. It was awful. The smell of the food (chicken salad sandwiches) made me gag most of the time. I laid on a couch in the corner and barely said a word. I realized I still wasn't ready to go out.
This phase of my pregnancy lasted until about the end of October/beginning of November. About the time that the second trimester "relief" should be kicking in, which spoiler alert, it didn't. During that whole first trimester, I was convinced all of my friends and family thought I was pretending to be sick or overreacting about it all. I know that wasn't really happening, but it was hard for me to accept the person I was becoming, so why wouldn't it be hard for them?! I just couldn't shake the fact that I was so useless and gross and a burden to my husband who was working so hard to take care of me. It was difficult going through this thing that was "invisible" to everyone else. I remember someone I love dearly even asking if it was "all in my head" because lucky for her, she didn't get sick with any of her pregnancies! Count yourself blessed.
The last week of October was one of my most difficult weeks yet. I didn't know it at the time, and we still don't know what to, but I've developed pregnancy allergies. I was COVERED in hives and SO itchy everywhere. Also I didn't keep anything at all down for about 2 days. I had been drinking chocolate milk that week. (Don't judge. It was the only thing that sounded bearable. Who knew that pregnancy could even make water taste bad?) Maybe that was the culprit? Who knows. During that week, I remember the hopelessness just drowning me. I did not want to be pregnant anymore. I completely regretted our decision to start a family. I had so many emotions that I had never felt, and I didn't know how to handle them. I remember I texted my mom, "I love you" one day while I was just sobbing uncontrollably. I don't know why or what I was looking for in return, maybe just an "I love you" text back. But she called me instead. I answered and couldn't even speak for a few minutes because of my bawling. But she sat on the other end of the line telling me how amazing and strong I was. I have never been one to call my mom, crying, for help. Not that I don't love the crap out of her or have a wonderful relationship with her. I've just always been one to deal with my stuff on my own. Anyway, I don't think I've ever loved my mom as much as in that moment. Thank you.
At my OB appointment on November 5th (18 weeks pregnant), I was "diagnosed" with prenatal depression and anxiety. Who would have guessed with how miserable I'd been?! Without getting into too much detail, I will just say that prenatal depression is REAL. It is SCARY. I had thoughts and feelings that I will probably never admit to anyone, not even my husband because I know it would just make him sad. But we are lucky to live in a time where there are medications for such things. I was put on an antidepressant, and I can honestly say I have been happier since. I don't feel as discouraged or empty, and I think I've begun to love this child inside me again. The anxiety is still strong though. I have anxiety nightmares and panic attacks almost every night. I live on about 3 hours of sleep/night, but if I'm lucky, I can also get an hour or two nap in during the day.
So I spent the month of November trying to heal mentally and spiritually. I made it to church twice! For the first time since August, so that was refreshing. I need to shout out to my ministering sisters. They reached out to me almost every week just to check in and see how I was doing or if I needed anything. Honestly, just knowing I had someone thinking of me and aware of my struggles was life saving. I was also able to spend Thanksgiving, my FAVORITE holiday, with some family. Thankfully, I was having a good day that day.
We had our 20 week ultrasound a little late at 23 weeks on December 10th. We found out we're having a girl. I've always pictured myself being a mom to boys. I've just always been kind of boyish myself, so I'm not sure how to raise a girl, but we'll figure it out.
My days have gotten slightly better this month. I have maybe 2 or 3 good days a week now, where I can leave my house or go visit friends or run errands or do chores. But I still spend a majority of my time resting on my couch. Things are still FAR from perfect (in fact, I've thrown up 4 times in the last 24 hours...), but I can see a light at the end of the tunnel when I couldn't see one before. I also had another bout of severe allergy related sickness a week or two ago. I didn't keep anything down for another 2 and a half days, so I had to go to the hospital for an IV drip and some hydration. They also suggested I just start taking some Claritin daily, and that has been helping.
All in all, pregnancy is by far the most difficult thing I have had to handle in life, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. People keep saying, "It will be worth it," and I'm now at a healthy enough point where I can believe them. I am so excited to be a mom, and I know Keith is going to be the best dad any child could ask for. He is so patient, funny, and loving. And our Holland Jack Adams is going to have him wrapped around her little finger. If you're struggling, know you're not alone. I'm here if you ever need to chat, whether it's about pregnancy or any other trying thing life is throwing at you.
Keith and I are flying home for Christmas on Saturday, and I am TERRIFIED of being confined on a plane for so long. I just really don't want to be one of those people who actually has to use a barf bag! I fly all the time! I am a good flyer! Oh well. It is what it is. Wish me luck! And if you made it all the way to the end of this post, congratulations. You're a trooper. I love you, and thank you for your words of encouragement and support. Merry Christmas.
Sidenote: I OFFICIALLY quit my teaching job on December 5th. I signed all the paperwork and stuff. Things were not looking good enough for me to go back, so that was sad, but I'm glad my supervisor and coworkers were so supportive of me "listening to my body" (I DESPISE that phrase) and taking the break that I needed. I'll teach again someday.
