The past several weeks I have been beyond miserable. Camping out next to the toilet miserable. Not keeping down anything other than popsicles miserable. Wanting to hurl at just the idea of food miserable. Actually, miserable is probably a huge under statement.
I've been holding myself together with quiet reminders that all this morning sickness means my baby is still alive in there.
I tried to have my appointment moved up in the week because I had gone an entire week without keeping anything down. My doctor didn't have anything open, but the nurse wanted me to come in and have my vitals checked. I was put in a room in Labor and Delivery so they could fill me with emergency IV fluids and meds. A nurse came in to check the baby's heart rate with a doppler, but she couldn't find it. She brought in another nurse, and she couldn't find it either. I had to wait for the doctor to find a mobile ultrasound machine that she could bring to my room.
They told me that it was probably just too early to hear the baby's heart with the doppler. They tried to reassure me that everything was fine. But I went from drained and sickly to pure panic. I wanted to curl up in that bed and die.
(The baby ended up being fine. I'm still feeling miserable, but it's slowly getting better.)
On another note, I had a really hard time deciding to go public with our pregnancy. I know it's a very sensitive subject around these parts of the interweb, and I want to be careful to not hurt any of you.
The hardest part though, was telling my family. I told my sister, because she always hears everything first, and I told my parents. But I didn't want to tell anyone else. Partly because I didn't want to cause anxiety and worry. But mostly because I didn't want to hear about how this baby would make up for the two I lost and magically cure all of my sadness.
I stopped talking to several family members because of horrible things that were said after losing Brake. I was so afraid of what I would hear this time, that I didn't even consider the fact that I don't talk to most of those people anymore.
I finally couldn't stand feeling like I was keeping secrets anymore, so I sent a picture of my already bulging belly to one of my aunts.
Within an hour, I was on the prayer list at almost every church in our county. Some of the family members even call each other every night so they can pray together.
I feel incredibly loved. (And also really bad for doubting them.)