Pregnancy: A Test of Strength

“You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have.” – anonymous

Over 2 years have passed, and I’m still at a pure loss. How do I even put this experience into words?  Should I?

Yes. No. Yes.

Yes, I should.

While there is no doubt in my mind that a day will never go by without being able to vividly relive the pregnancy and feel the deep scars that have been implanted on my soul, I will forever hold on to the strength and awareness it provided. And this my friends, is why I want to share my experience with you. Where should I start…

• The heavy lingering guilt?
• The intense isolation?
• The depletion of finances?
• The overpowering jealousy?
• The deep depression?

…You see, in a world so blindly filtered from truth and focused on perfection, my vision was blurred by the romanticism of pregnancy. The artist in me was enthralled by the idea of creatively documenting the various pregnancy stages. And obviously, the pure anticipation of growing our family and miracle of creating life was so exciting, it was intoxicating.

Hitting the Floor

But then, just three short hours after viewing the positive result of an at-home pregnancy test and soaring to a state of Cloud 9 ecstasy, I hit the floor. Literally. Everything changed. Nausea swept over, I ran to the bathroom and planted my face in the toilet. “This must be mental, morning sickness can’t come on so suddenly and intense.” Well, yes it can.

• “You’re pregnant! You must be so excited!”
• “Just keep some crackers by your bed and eat small meals throughout the day.”
• “Did you try ginger tea? Crackers? Sea Bands? Acupuncture?”
• “Mind over matter.”
• “Oh yes, morning sickness is the worst. I had to throw up a few times at work.”
• “You’re sick? You’re totally having a girl.”

I appreciate everyone’s heart and intent, but let’s just say, what I was experiencing, was different. Let me paint the picture.  Have you ever had food poisoning? Imagine having food poisoning every single day for months on end with no reprieve. And I mean no reprieve. I dreaded every waking hour. I was immediately diagnosed with Hypermesis Gravidarum and put on medication. I could barely keep an ice cube down, let’s not even talk about food.  Vertigo was so thick that the room would spin if I even tried to lift my head from my pillow. Watching a movie or reading a book to kill time was out of the question. I was so scared and lonely.  My stomach felt like the scene from the Twilight movie where the vampire baby was basically eating the life out of the mother’s womb.

To make matters worse, San Diego was hit with an unbearable heat wave that summer, that set our our little 1957 bungalow, without air-conditioning, to a whopping 94 degrees! There were days I would just lie in the backyard, dump ice on my neck and hose myself down to cool off. My thoughtful and loving husband set up a tent in the backyard under a shaded tree where I camped out with nothing but a puke bucket and a mindset purely set on survival mode.

My poor husband did all he could do with all that was on his plate. On top of working full-time as a Controller/Accountant, he was in the thick of studying to take two very involved exams to become a licensed CMA. He had just recently joined a band with a few other very talented musicians. With music being his sole love and outlet, I wanted more than anything to not strip this little light away from him. He did his best to sprinkle in rehearsals and late night gigs, but with trying to keep our lives afloat, proved to be very taxing.

Every day, I would stare blankly at our wooden ceiling and the little “You can do this!” note I taped to it. I anxiously waited for bedtime where I could hide from this mess. I rarely showered. It made me more sick. My hair became so dried out from lack of dietary nutrition and lack of being brushed, it started to dread and we feared we were going to have to cut a huge chunk of it off!   You would think appointments with my midwife and having the chance to view the precious little baby through ultrasound would provide some light on the situation and a healthy reminder of the end goal? But no. The first few months, I was so sick I couldn’t even open my eyes to look at the screen. Hyperemesis is no joke.

This excruciating sickness lasted every day, all day, for a solid four months. The first month or so, I lost almost 18lbs.  Thankfully, my second trimester I was fortunate to have some reprieve, but it all crept back hard my third trimester and straight into labor. The entire 42 weeks I was pregnant, a day did not go by that I did not vomit.

The Mental Battle

Every day was a mental battle, in fact, every hour. I fought so hard to tell myself I was strong, but I felt nothing but weak. That pregnancy was a blessing, when I felt nothing but paralyzed from only focusing on my daily survival. And that I was doing all I could, when I felt nothing but helpless laying in bed all day and embarrassingly having to shut down my photography business.

Dustings of strength came from reflections on historical woman, and visualizing the power that they endured. I mean really, can you imagine?

However, I cannot even began to tell you the depression and isolation I felt. Keeping my pregnancy a secret until we were ready to share the news was incredibly hard and terrifying. To my awareness, none of my friends pregnancies were anything like mine. In fact, I never knew one could get this sick from pregnancy.

Needless to say, whenever I wanted to reach out for support or think about sharing my struggle, this tidal wave of guilt would sweep over my heart preventing me from doing so. I couldn’t help but think of those struggling with miscarriages, infertility, anxiously waiting  for an adoption, or others who had it worse. Thoughts of the pain they must feel with all these pregnancy announcements and baby photos flashing endlessly over social media left my heart empty. I was ashamed to complain about my pain, knowing that no matter how hard it was, it was temporary and we were blessed. And with that, I carried all the weight on my shoulders and battled this challenging pregnancy alone.

Yes, I Devoured the Sub

To wrap up my never-ending pregnancy story (kudos to all those still here reading along!), I am thrilled to end on a good note.

Let me guess…you probably think I am going to end with,  “Yes. It was worth it.” Well, yes it was. And yes, the moment I laid eyes on our precious first-born son, Silas, our hearts burst and I knew our lives would change forever.

But, what I was not prepared for was that literally minutes after giving birth, the sickness was gone, 100%. I scarfed down a salmon dinner and devoured a foot-long sub like it was nothing. I will forever remember the moment of biting into that sub sandwich with tears rolling down my face as my taste buds exploded at the seams overwhelmed with every bite. I mean, it really is crazy how much in life we take for granted.

My soul has been re-birthed, and my heart sheds a new light I will carry with me forever.

Tribes Are Everything

I have finally come to realize, that it is not only unhealthy to carry the weight of such a struggle entirely upon oneself, but that I indeed am not alone. Even if we can’t relate directly, we all have our own battles to fight, especially on the unforeseeable journey of motherhood. Again, we are reminded that the magic of life is measured by our experiences and what we can pull from each one.  Despite all the differences, there is so much beauty in truth. Truth in struggle. Truth in happiness. And having an honest motherhood tribe is everything, we have so much to learn from each other.

So here I am, putting my stamp on a world of honest motherhood.

C’est la vie.

“A strong woman knows she has strength enough for the journey, but a woman of strength knows it is in the journey where she will become strong.” – Luke Easter