Well, I’ve got a big life update for you all this week.
I’m coming out of one of the hardest, darkest times of my life. AND, I feel so grateful. And thankful. And beyond blessed by what I’m about to share with you:
Baby #3 is on the way!! I can barely believe I’m typing those words.
AND.
It’s been the most challenging, intense and brutal ride.
I shared ALL THE DETAILS & all the juicy stuff, here on the podcast this week.
For those of you who have been around for a while with me, you know that all of my pregnancies have been hard. And extremely taxing: mentally, physically and emotionally. With my first baby (Noah), I wrote about the experience here.
But basically: sick for 20 weeks, only able to eat rice and beans and drink lemonade until that point, throwing up a few times every day, and spending most afternoons on the couch, my laptop propped up against me. Unable to work for 3 months, and I was the sickest out of any of my friends or people I knew. It felt long and hard. And took me totally by surprise.
But then, with my second baby (June)…… I can’t even tell you the extreme to which it was way worse than I ever thought possible.
At just 5 1/2 weeks pregnant, I started spending my days throwing up my sips of water and pure bile 15x/day, the diagnosis came in clear: I had a condition called Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG). I wrote all about that experience here if you want the full story.
A lot of which can be summarized by the 4x/week IV’s just for hydration that each took 3 hours, the heavy medication required 24 hours a day, the ER visits, the scary weight loss, the inability to drink water (let alone eat food), and the intensity of it all.
Not to mention the abrupt halt of every area of my life: my life as a mama with a young toddler, my business, my ability to be a functioning person— in any area of my life.
It took again, until about 20 weeks (or halfway through) the pregnancy for the intensity of those symptoms and the constant nausea to lift, and to be able to participate in my life again: to eat food, drink water, to be a mama, to start to work again, to be a wife, a friend, etc.
And longer for things like moving my body and trying to gain back all the muscle I’d lost from life laying flat for 4 months.
I am not exaggerating when I say: pregnancy and especially a HG pregnancy was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
But my babies- they are true miracles. They are so healthy. And happy, and thriving, even though it makes zero logical sense from the start they got in life.
So when it came to the thought of whether we were DONE having kids, the logical answer would be yes. Especially knowing the facts that hyperemesis has a 90% chance of recurrence if you have had it once.
The thought of going through that experience again…. well, it was enough for me to not rush into the convo of having a third baby. But still, there was a big piece of my heart that didn’t know if we were in fact done growing our family. So I sat with it for a long time, not wanting to rush that decision.
But as many of you know, earlier this Fall, I talked on the podcast about how I was feeling about adding to our family— and in a state of still deciding. And praying. And really thinking through how I felt– both with my brain AND my heart. Kyle (my husband) has always wanted three kids, but clearly understood if I couldn’t get there (based on how pregnancy has gone for me, and the sacrifice it takes on so many things).
Cue: a lot of deep convos and a lot of “what if’s” and a lot of time just spent listening to what my heart was really craving. And the life I envisioned for myself and our family— not just today but in 20 years from now too. A bigger family and trying for another baby was part of it.
And then, boom. It happened. So quickly.
I was so happy, felt so grateful, and just kind of amazed.
I was over the moon excited. And… because of my past, I was also immediately panicking. Based on my last pregnancy with June, I had about 1 week until the HG hit, and everything in my life shut down.
There was so much planning to do– both for our kids & childcare help, to my business to podcast recording to trying to set up initial contact with my midwife again in case things took the same turn. It was a week filled with this mix of excitement and possibility…… and planning for the world to end.
Just weird. Right?
I wanted to keep the hope that maybe this time it would be different. Maybe I would be in that 10% category where HG didn’t recur, and I could have a “normal” pregnancy. I kept that vision for myself…. but also was scampering to pull things together in case it didn’t.
And at 5 1/2 weeks, it hit again. HARD. My worst fear, coming true.
Hyperemesis. For the second time. And this time, even though I didn’t think it was possible, it was even worse.
Throwing up 20x/day, even with the medication that I started early to try and help. It was more efficient to lay on the bathroom floor than go anywhere.
This time, not even able to sit up in bed, let alone walk downstairs in my own house, even though I was on double the medication dosage compared to last time (zofran & diclegis)
This time, not even able to leave my house for IV appointments or ER visits. I had to find a option that would come to your house, and teach YOU how to administer your own IV’s so you could stay in bed.
Enter the IV port that got installed in my arm. Making it so that I couldn’t hug or pick up my kids, take a shower or wear anything but my bathrobe (because it was the only sleeve that could fit over the port. But showering felt irrelevant because I couldn’t even stand up for longer than a minute or two.
This time, unable to see my kids for more than a few minutes a day, because I was so sick. Too sick to read to them, or even talk much.
12 pounds down in 1 week, because I couldn’t keep a sip of water down. Let alone any food.
For weeks. And weeks. And weeks. That turned to months.
I couldn’t look at a screen, listen to audio anything or be on my phone, because they all made me more nauseous. Eventually, I was able to watch movies only, because they were the only thing to somewhat distract me from the intense about of physical pain that it is to be level 10 nauseous every minute of the day.
I had to ask for help for every little thing to survive: for my friend to take Noah to school everyday, and for someone else to help pick him up. For food to be made for me (even though it all came back up). For Kyle to make the kids breakfast, pack lunches, make dinner at night, grocery shop, coordinate everything for our family AND take care of me upstairs…. all while working his full time 8-5:30pm job.
When I tell you that it was the hardest, darkest time of my life, I am not exaggerating. Physically, yes. But also mentally and emotionally too. I consider myself a pretty mentally strong person— there is very little that actually takes me down. But the length of this, the unknowing of how or if it would end, the loss of everything in my life that made me happy or excited, it was so very hard.
For those first few months, I would cry every night before bed. Praying for relief. Praying for anything to help. Logically knowing that it would be temporary…. but emotionally feeling like every hour was a accomplishment just to make it through.
A few months in, a was able to get and keep water down, and that felt SO HUGE.
Around that time, I also found 4 VERY SPECIFIC foods that I could usually keep down, if I ate them at exactly the right timing with my medication (granny smith or pink lady apples with ellenos vanilla yogurt, Amy’s canned lentil soup, Nature Valley granola bars– remember those!?, and gf pasta with tomato sauce at night, and the shelf-stable parmesan cheese in the green can. lol).
And I felt thankful for those foods— they had some nutrients. Anything. I was just trying to not lose any more weight and have to go in to the ER for a feeding tube.
I’m sharing all this, not so that you feel sorry for me. Because I wanted this. I CHOOSE this, however crazy that may seem (and to me, it did, many times as I lay flat in bed). Or on the 115th day where I hadn’t left my house (except 2 mandatory dr appointments).
I chose this.
I am so lucky for this incredible blessing.
I’m so overjoyed at what’s to come.
And still, I made peace with the fact that it also can feel horrible getting there.
That the things we most want or crave or desire in our lives, often require us to be brave. And go for them, not knowing exactly what will happen.
Knowing that the journey along the way will require more of us than we probably ever know.
But it’s who we become in the process. And how it changes us forever.
Getting pregnant again has been the bravest thing I think I’ve done.
And now, writing this, well into 2nd trimester, I’m still no where near out of the dark or the hard parts. But, I didn’t want to wait any longer to share this, and what I’ve been walking though. In hopes that, somewhere, for someone, even reading this years later—this makes them feel less alone. That pregnancy is not always this blissful, happy, glowing experience that you see everywhere. That it can be so hard and challenging and not enjoyable…. and still, feels so worth doing for the end result you get. FOR LIFE.
And how much surrender it takes, when we walk though hard seasons in life.
Because what we learn coming out of it usually changes so much in our life– our perspective on what really matters, most of all.
So today, writing this, with teeny tiny things each day, I can tell I’m moving towards the light. And slowly coming out of the dark. Towards my life again. Towards feeling like a more functional human. And mom. And business owner. And wife. And friend. Eating a little bit more.
Drinking unlimited water! It’s the little things, ya know?
So needless to say, this is why I have been almost non-existant. I’ve been pretty absent in every kind of way, just doing my best to make it though each day, and focus on surviving (with exception to the podcast because I went crazy on batch recording the second I saw that pregnancy test, and ditto for the Cooking Club, to keep up with my weekly recipe promises).
But this time has taught me so much already. Having that much time to yourself, quietly— to think and reflect and just take a full inventory of your life– it’s been a gift.
And I can’t believe I’m saying that.
I have so many more thoughts, and so many more things I want to share with you all as my energy comes back (slowly, slowly). I probably won’t be magically showing up at full capacity (but I’m hoping in another month I’ll be so much more back to normal). I have so many ideas for where I want to take SRH (and some changes I’m excited to make this year too).
Right now, I’m learning to re-walk, learning to eat with more trust again, and trying to get my strength back and life back. And am just focused on doing all I can each day to get stronger and also be so gentle to myself, because I know it’s not going to be an overnight wave-of-the-wand thing.
I have so many ideas for where I want to take SRH (and some changes I’m excited to make this year too).
But I just wanted to say THANK YOU.
For being here, for reading this, for being a part of this community and family.
And for the endless support and encouragement you all give to me. No matter what is going on in life, or what stage I’ve been in. It’s been over 12 years (can you believe it?!), and to this day, this community- YOU RIGHT NOW READING THIS, AND READING THIS THIS FAR, ESPECIALLY WHEN BLOGS ARE DEAD (lol) is one of the biggest blessings of my life. It’s the type and quality of person here, that never ceases to amaze me.
Thanks for being on this wild ride with me. And for all the ways you support me & SRH daily.
I am so grateful for it all. And to be able to share my story and my heart in this way. Thank you.
And so much more to come.
If you liked this post, here are some similar ones:
I’m Pregnant! And My Journey To Motherhood
Pregnancy 1 & Bump Update (Weeks 18-27)
Pregnancy 1 & Bump Update (Weeks 28-38), On Maternity Leave & Registry Favorites