I'm scared to write this. I'm scared to sit here and feel what I feel, but most of all to put it down in this space.
It is one of the hardest things to read a pregnant woman complain about pregnancy when you don't know if you will ever be pregnant or if you will ever stay pregnant, and I never wanted to be one of those women to cause that pain. There were times when I had to look away, or walk away, or go to a different place inside of myself when I would hear those complaints. "They don't know what they've got" I would think. And sometimes, sometimes I think I might have been right. But sometimes...
I have hyperemesis gravidarum. And I want it to go away. I'm so angry at my body for not allowing me to enjoy this amazing gift we've been given. I'm so afraid to come here and say that I'm not yet enjoying being pregnant because I know how bad that hurts, but I can't sugar coat this anymore. I started this blog as therapy for myself and as a way to share the difficult journey that is infertility...and hopefully pregnancy and life after infertility. We were granted that gift, and I've been too ashamed to share what is really going on. But then I realized that I felt alone. And someday another woman will feel this alone, sitting in this place wondering why her body wouldn't give her a chance to be happy.
I've been sick since 5 and a half weeks. It started out slow, I was so excited to be nauseous those first days! This meant good things, and it did! And it still does in a way. My pregnancy, our babies are growing strong. The level of hormones in my body are so high and so strong that my body can't even handle it- we have a strong pregnancy. This I truly am grateful for as long as I can see past the rest of it for a few moments, but I rarely get that chance.
I day dream about going to work and having someone tell me "congratulations" or ask how the twins are doing. I day dream about walking outside and seeing little ones, knowing that soon...oh so soon. I day dream about eating a salad and enjoying every single bite, knowing that I'm nourishing my body and our children. But then I snap back to reality and struggle with every single bite of a muffin. Every single sip of a water. My Everests. Knowing that anything I can get down and keep down will hopefully keep one more pound from dropping away. I've lost about 15 pounds or so...and I had to beg the doctor to let me stop IV fluids, to just take a break. My arms are sore and the fluids make me feel so much sicker. I told her I need to at least TRY to drink on my own. I lost two more pounds, and I think I'll need to start again. My lips are cracking and I'm having trouble standing up again.
I've been trapped in my house, in my bed, for over a month. Not by doctor's orders. But because the only thing I can do is lay down. The more I move, the more I throw up. And every where I go, the smells make me gag and dry heave, or lose those precious calories I had just forced down. The guilt is overwhelming.
My husband is living life for me. Making me food, begging me to drink one more bottle of water, reminding me to try one more piece of food. The doctor threatened me with a feeding tube, "We don't want to get to that place". But she was so reassuring, telling me that this is awful and that hopefully I've put in my time and we'll get through the rest of this pregnancy free of pre-term labor and all of the unbelievable pain that can bring. I pray that she's right.
I want this part to be over. I wouldn't do anything to let these babies go. Never. This part needs to be over now. I hang on the fact that often times it starts to get better at 14 weeks, but I know that often times it doesn't get better until 21 weeks...and sometimes it doesn't get better until birth.
Please forgive me for this- I know this hurts. I know it's wrong. But I also know that it's real, and it hurts, and it's where we are right now. But I'm hopeful for one day...