My first forever pregnancy with Smoochie I got HG. Well, in fairness, my first taste of HG came with my first ever pregnancy, boy/girl twins. It was only a few weeks, but it was nothing short of hell. Seriously. When I lost them, it took another four weeks for the nausea to subside. So when HG came again five years later with Smoochie, it was at a lower level than the twin pregnancy and right on the heels of five years Ivf/fet and multiple losses.
By that point, I was so worn down and full of gratitude at the same time, I didn’t have the emotional space to grieve the loss of a normal pregnancy or second guess the experience.
I felt like anything more than the occasional good natured gripe would be an invitation to more disaster, aka loss. Plus, hg was so all encompassing I just wanted to get through it and try not to dwell.
But this time I don’t want to be so fast to put on my big girl panties – I’m letting myself feel all the feels and I need to be honest about how upsetting, isolating and draining this is.
At the risk of sounding like a dramatic teenager, the biggest thing I wonder is why is everything so fucking hard when it comes to pregnancy with me?
You’d think five years of Ivf and losses would be enough, but on top of that I have these shitty fucking pregnancies and I’m over being a gracious adult about it.
I’m tired, I’m disappointed- I love my child so much I fought years to have him. And I love him so much I decided to do this all over again so I could expand the love in our family, but come on, when does this end?
Yes, I know there are people who have it way worse than me. Etc etc but this is all getting me thinking about the side of IF that’s the hardest to stomach – the fact that so much of this experience- so much of this pain has to be self-inflicted.
Why did and does my journey to motherhood have to be so extreme? Why did it have to be so destructive to my emotional and physical health – and continue to be?
Why can’t this just be easy? Did I piss off the universe? Am I shitty person? Do I just have horrible luck? Why? Why do I have such bad luck?
Why does being pregnant with a much wanted and already loved little bean mean I’m basically abdicating most of Smoochie’s care to others.
God, I feel so shitty about that. I was off every Monday before I got pregnant, mommy and Smoochie days, and now he’s in daycare. I just can’t take care of him without resorting to hours of peppa pig and I know he’s better off playing with friends outside in the fresh air than being with me while I struggle to stay awake and keep it together. Usually our 1-1 time is fun – pool time, play dates, play ground, ‘motorcycle’ rides. But right now I can’t. HG is like the worst hang over I’ve ever had – complete with violent vomiting and pounding migraines – but it never ends, except for sleep. And you can’t sleep all day when a 2.5 is relying on you.
I know this is all very woe is me, but I just don’t understand why everything to do with pregnancy has to be so fucking extreme and dramatic. I knew this could happen again and I was scared. I did a ton of research this time and I got supports in place for getting help with Smooch. So yeah, I knew this was a possibility; just like every time I had a loss after Ivf I chose to try again. But I didn’t want it to happen. I dreaded it.
It’s only 8 weeks and I think I’m already getting worn down mentally. I miss being able to swipe down a countertop without being a) exhausted in minutes and b) so grossed out by a smear of butter that I start barfing uncontrollably into the compost bin and then spend the rest of the morning sleeping it off.
The lack of nutrition is making me tired and so hungry – but every time I do the whole ‘let me just try a bite’ routine it ends in disaster. I’m sick and tired of scones and water crackers. I want something substantial- I want more than a few bites.
And the stench of food is so strong I’m driving my family crazy. I’ve turned off the central heating and all the windows have to be open at all times. It’s freezing and Smooch and DH are wearing hoodies, heavy socks and slippers and toques. I feel like a jerk but my sense of smell is so strong this time it is BIZARRE. I could tell DH and Smooch had post nasal drip from across the room because they yawned at the same time and when I got a whiff I almost DIED. Hot dogs, mac n cheese, chicken fingers – all are repulsive. So is the cats litter, the dogs in general, garbage, the diaper pail and the worst is our tenants’ cooking downstairs.
So what’s my point? I don’t know. I guess just hoped it would be better this time. I wanted crunchy fall leaves and walks outside as the little bean grew and grew. I wanted a normal, uninteresting first trimester with time to keep our bean a secret just between us. I wanted to keep my body strong and healthy by keeping up my gym routine – now I’m losing weight and muscle due to starvation. It really pisses me off that I’m not in this pregnancy feeling strong and healthy. I worked really fucking hard to get back into shape and I hate that I’ll be entering the second trimester weak and wobbly. And who knows how long the Hg will last this time. They say it gets worse and longer – I really hope not.
So that’s my long, ranty and rambling post. I’m tired of anything pregnancy related being such a miserable slog. I’m doing it because the outcome outweighs all of this – but if I could skip all this testing of my sanity and physical health and just get to be pregnant for once with no drama, I’d really love that.