Yesterday, I posted this on my fb page...
Bitter.com.
Despite the pain, I have had a great day today. Kevin is off, Ella's NICU follow up appt went great. Got stuff accomplished, I feel good, etc. Went to regular doctor appt and now being admitted. Where did the day go wrong? I just want to cry right now. And I want my mom :( And a burger, because ya know, they don't let you eat in here and I've been here for a while. Oh, and they have Frozen on loop - >( feeling bitter at The Baby Place at Celebration Hospital.
It was more as a lighthearted attempt at both cheering myself up and keeping my family and friends [that want to know] informed. I've had a VERY difficult past few days, both pain-filled and emotionally wrought. This pregnancy, which happens to be my last, has taken it's hardest toll on me. We jokingly blame Kevin and say "It's all your fault" - because if you cannot interject a little bit of levity in life, you are truly missing out. There is no one out there who can say to me that life does not come without obstacles... or heartache... or angst... or hell, even just the occasional speedbump. Some friends and family posted support and well-intentioned words of encouragement. And somehow or another a fistfight almost occurred.
There is also not ONE PERSON that can say to me that I don't value, treasure, consider myself grateful or blessed for ALL that I have. I don't bemoan the fact that I don't make 6 figures a year (or maybe I do on days when I'd really just like to lay down on snuggle with my little ones) but normally, no, you won't hear me complaining about having a job to do or a job to go to. Or having rent to pay, or anything of that sort. Because I'm grateful that I have a family, and a job, and a house to live in and even when I take my children to the doctor - I'm grateful that, for the most part, I have relatively healthy children, and the ability to take care of them when I need to. I count every blessing we have. And I don't focus on what we don't have. I've taken my daughter to countries where she can see firsthand how much more we are blessed than others, and shown her how to give back... even in the littlest way, so that we can better appreciate every. single. thing. we. have.
EVERY. SINGLE. THING.
So now that we've got that out in the open. For clarification. I am not complaining. I am reaching out. I have said time and again, if my posts bother you, or if you feel compelled to roll your eyes because you feel I'm complaining, I ask you simply to either not read, ya know- scroll down your page til you see a picture of cats drinking coffee or something- or delete me from your friend's list. Because I cannot honestly EVER REMEMBER seeing someone in pain or need and telling them that I don't want to hear it.
This pregnancy has been so pain-filled ... yes, PAIN-FILLED, not discomfort, not cramping... PAIN. I have struggled with literally throwing up around the clock (that's about 24-28 times a day) and when I wasn't full-fledged vomiting, I was dry heaving. When that wasn't happening, I was getting more and more needles as they pumped my body full of fluids so that baby and I would continue to survive. Every 15-18 hours, I inject a small needle and catheter like tube into my now VERY pregnant belly, where I am infused with anti-nausea medication (because it doesn't just go away in the 1st trimester like some people seem to think). And since I haven't always been in the best shape, heck, let's face it, I've been overweight for some time... AND I never properly healed from my c-section with Ella - I have zero muscle tone in my lower abdomen. The baby and everything else is now pressing on my pelvic bone, and according to the doctor, may very well have fractured it. HOW DOES THAT SOUND FOR FUN? If that's not a stunning endorsement for this is the last baby, I've never heard one louder (or better).
So more about me. Because this is my blog, and since I can't afford to go to the therapist right now, and she so kindly emailed me off the books, this is how I cope. I, personally, have struggled with depression - and have internalized it as much as possible. Being in pain is such an enabler for depression. I truly think it is. For one, when you hurt, it feels like nothing will make things better. You take medications, and they are a temporary relief to your pain... but you know you'll be miserable again when the meds wear off. You are constantly struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
This Sunday, August 10th - was the FIRST time I ever recalled just wishing I didn't wake up. I'm not talking wishing I could roll over and go back to sleep. Or wishing that it was not the day before Monday. I'm talking, I wished myself out of existence. I was disappointed that I had to cope with the pain and misery for even one more day. I wished it more than I loved my family, friends... and more importantly, I wished I was not here more than I loved myself. It's a hard point to come to when you realize the pain is THAT GREAT (although, personally I think "great" is a horrible word to describe that feeling) that your very own existence seems inconsequential compared to the pain you are in. And then Robin Williams passed away, and it was such an echo of my sentiment. Because normally, I'm a happy go lucky, cheer people on type of person. And I ran out of "think of the blessings" and hit the IDGAF stage. And I guess, some people just aren't used to that from me. It's ok. When your turn comes, you're entitled to it. And if you say out loud how you feel... I certainly am not one to judge.
I won't say I'm "all-better" today. I'm a damned sight better than I was yesterday, sitting in the hospital, watching Frozen on loop (a friend commented, "Frozen on loop?!?!?! You are now in hell in the form of a hospital.") and getting poked and prodded, (which if you're dehydrated - which happens when you get sick all day no matter how much water you drink - makes for repeated attempts and sore arms when they try to get blood) AND still in pain, oh yeah, and you don't get to eat ANYTHING for, at minimum 10 hours, and who doesn't get cranky, irritable and whiny after 10 hours of no food #notthisfatgirl .... I was pretty miserable. Today I am "home" and en route to the perinatologist to make sure baby Paisley is progressing the way she should be since it's almost a given I won't go full term. I did NOT however, wake up wishing I hadn't woken up. My beautiful daughters came in and hugged me, and Ella was kind enough to wipe her snot-dripping nose on my shirt, causing me to immediately throw up (lol?) and Kevin woke up at 5am and checked my blood pressure, and put a frozen cloth on my head that I really don't recall asking for, and my Mom and Dad talked on the phone with me and told me they're rooting for me and we can do this. And I know we can.
To my friend that meant well, but it didn't come across that way, some of this is for you. To my friend (who is also pregnant and going through a miserable pregnancy) thanks for being my wing-woman, please don't bruise your knuckles. To my sister-in-law and other friends who think I'm a better woman sometimes... remember that I'm not. Because instead of standing up for myself, I turned off my phone, put my head back on my uncomfortable hospital bed pillow and cried. Like a wuss. I let it get under my skin. Into my head. Embedded in my heart. And I almost let it get the better of me. Almost. Until later that evening I logged onto fb, and saw the posts. That of the original poster who did not mean to be so harsh, and those of you who so steadfastly stood up for me, or helped me back up. They made me remember I am not alone. Thank you for that.
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