I have always been a planner. I have always had a timeline and order of how I wanted to do things, for anything in life. And my timelines have ALWAYS worked out just like I planned. When I feel like a plan is starting to change, I feel an immediate need for a couple Tylenol and a bottle (or two) of cheap gas station champagne.
Then my husband and I got this (what seemed to be an) awesome idea to have a baby. We had talked about it for awhile, decided when the right time would be, and then we went for it. Well, just shy of a year that felt like 10 years later, I was finally pregnant. Cue plans of pleasant doctor appointments, celebrating with my friends and family, shopping for cute baby clothes and items, shopping for and wearing cute maternity clothes (did you know they don't make them so frumpy anymore? I would prefer maternity clothes over regular people clothes any day!), growing a perfectly round belly, and all of the other exciting and happy things that come along with being pregnant with your first child.
And then once I hit 5 weeks pregnant, it was like I got hit with an Amtrak. I remember stuffing my drawer at work full of Jolly Ranchers and saltines and peppermints and lemon candies, Gatorade, ginger ale, ginger supplements. "So this is morning sickness," I thought. I made it through one more week of work, and then I was cooped up in the hospital with IV's in my many collapsed veins, on a constant 24/7 flow of medication cocktails, suffering from Severe Hyperemesis Gravidarum. Only 3 days the first time, 7 days the second time, then 2 additional times during my third trimester. I was on a liquid diet for longer than anyone should be on a liquid diet. Vomiting on average 15 times a day, I lost 17% of my entire body weight within 1.5 weeks. Not cool, bro. At 3 months, I was able to get out of bed and continue on PAST the toilet for pretty much the first time. Before that point, I don't remember a whole lot. I have vague memories of my husband washing my hair over the side of the bathtub every week or two because I couldn't shower, being so sick of watching re-runs on HGTV, wanting to hurl furniture at my dogs because they were taking full advantage of my inability to discipline them. But that day that I finally got out of bed was like I was born again! I threw on some clothes, put my hair up in a puke-scented messy bun and we went and sat outside where our friends were having a cook out. I even ate a cheeseburger! I regretted it for hours afterwards but that was the best cheeseburger of my life! We even commemorated the experience with a photograph. Of course, I had planned on taking a photo every week from Day 1 so by the end of pregnancy I could see the entire transformation, but that didn't happen.
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| Day of the Cheeseburger (20lbs below pre-pregnancy weight) |
My plans for my pregnancy changed pretty early on, and it was a sign of things to come. The Severe HG continued through my entire pregnancy, throwing up all the way until the very moment I delivered. We were living in SE Alabama while Rob was on military orders and we should have been there to deliver our son (we ended up having to move to Pennsylvania when I was 37 weeks pregnant). After taking so many strong medications and no prenatal vitamins since I was 5 weeks, I wanted a natural childbirth. I ended up over-due, induced, in a 40+ hour labor (with no pain meds until pushing time, and even then my epidural failed after about 45 minutes, I might add!), pushed for 4 hours, and then an emergency c-section resulting in the birth of the most beautiful, somehow healthy, baby boy.
So all of that has brought me here; with an almost 5 month old infant, many changed ways of thinking, and most importantly with the understanding that there might as well be NO planning when it comes to having a baby!
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