This One Goes Out To The One I Love

Sorry for the kissy picture.  Brian and I took pictures of ourselves while waiting for the kids to wake up on Christmas morning.  I wanted to use one of those, and this is the only one where Brian isn't making a horribly ugly face.

Any R.E.M. fans out there?  I grew up listening to R.E.M. because my brother loved them - great band.  So if you continue singing this song: "This one goes out to the one I love(d?)," the next line goes,  "This one goes out to the one I left behind."

I love Brian, but he is the one leaving me behind every morning, which is one of the reasons why I love him.  Before I was pregnant, I would get up in the morning to exercise, usually getting up before his alarm even thought about sounding.  Now, it's a different story.  I do wake up around 5:00 each day to take my thyroid medication, because I'm supposed to take it on an empty stomach, with lots of water, and not eat anything for at least an hour afterward. Plus, I usually throw up first thing upon getting out of bed each day, and I need to have time for that pill to get absorbed so it doesn't come right back up again.  But I don't even get out of bed to take said pill.  The bottle is sitting on my side dresser with a cup of water, and I go right back to sleep after taking it.

A while later Brian's alarm goes off and he pushes snooze, which happens a few times, 'cause that's how he does things, but then he gets out of bed to shower, and I roll over and go back to sleep.  He comes back in the room to get dressed, and I roll to the other side.  He says good-bye, I tell him I love him, and then roll over, again, and go back to sleep.

I love this man.  He hasn't complained at all.  He hasn't rubbed it in my face that he gets up way before I do, like I used to kind of do to him when I went running at crazy-5-in-the-morning.  He hasn't called me lazy or anything like it.  The closest he's even come to complaining is that he said he was tired last night and headed to bed around 7:30.  He is amazing, and I am so thankful for all the hard work he does for our family.

The Festivities

Christmas Eve we woke up bright and early to join a bunch of other families in our ward to go clean the church.  Brian and I were put in charge of cleaning the bathrooms, which is a good things, because I threw up in the toilets a few times while we were cleaning them.  Even though I was feeling crummy, it was fun to get out as a family.  We stopped at Yokes on the way home for a some doughnuts, and then enjoyed those once we got home.

At noon we went to the church for our family get-together, which was also my Grandma Harris' birthday party.  We had a ton of fun eating, watching the dads play with remote control helicopters, watching the kids perform the nativity, singing Christmas carols, and eating Grandma's cake.  There was a tiny little pregnant kitty freezing outside the church.  My brother went home and brought back some cat food and milk to feed it outside, while we all debated what to do.  It seemed as if she was dropped off by someone who didn't want a pregnant cat or that she got lost when her family moved in, but we thought it was most likely the former, because the houses around the church are so close that if a family moved in, it would be hard for her to get lost.  My brother ended up taking her home, and the plan was to call the shelter or vet on Monday.  They named her Mary, because, like Tallia said, "She was pregnant on Christmas Eve with no where to go.  What else were we supposed to call her?"

Brian and Mike pulled a couch from the foyer into the gym for me, and I took a nap while everyone played.  We took off while everyone was singing Christmas carols to head to Brian's parent's house for Christmas Eve dinner.  We stayed there until bedtime, so we would be able to put the kids to bed right when we got home.  It worked for the boys.  They were both asleep by the time we pulled into the drive way.  We had to wait a little while for Alyssa to go to sleep for Santa to come, which was hard for both Brian and I.  I didn't feel well at all, and he was dead tired.

Christmas morning was perfect.  For starters, Christmas was the first day I felt better in a long time.  (Just to update you on that: the other day when I posted when I felt better, I ended up puking my guts out quite violently, and when we went to the doctor a few days later, we told him about the Zofran issues, and he put me on something new, which is helping a lot.  I started feeling better on Christmas, and things have been sufficiently better ever since.  I still feel nauseated all the time, but it's low enough that I can ignore it for the most part.  Things are better.)

 So back to Christmas morning.  The kids slept in until almost eight o'clock.  Ethan woke us up at seven by yelling, "Is it morning...yet..." and then he went back to sleep, so Brian and I laid in bed, waiting for the kids to get up, until finally we started checking on them to see if that would wake them, which didn't work until Ethan woke up close to eight.  We got the camera out and had him wake Alyssa and Marcus, then we all went downstairs.

Santa outdid himself this year.  Everyone loved their present.  Alyssa got a friendship bracelet making kit, Ethan got a Fisher Price Trio blocks helicopter and airport tower set, and Marcus got a Fisher Price Trio blocks Batmobile.  I got an eye medication that's the equivalent of Latisse that makes your eyelashes grow long, because Brian said the pharmacy was out of Latisse.  I've used Latisse before, because Brian didn't want to recommend it to patients without knowing if it was good or not, and I loved the results.  Brian got a crepe cook book in his stocking, and he looked through it real quick and learned that it's best to have the batter sit for an hour or two before making up the crepes, so he declared that we should make up the batter and then open our other presents.

Everyone was happy with their family presents as well.  We got scriptures for each of the kids - a quad for Alyssa, with a beautiful cover I made for her during one of my better moments these past few weeks, and the cheap hard cover Book of Mormons for the boys.  Brian got a lava lamp for Alyssa, and cars for the boys.  One time while I was at Walgreens getting a prescription filled, I looked around their toy section and found some labled, "Buy two for $12.99 and get one free," so I picked up a matching game for Ethan, Disney princess figurines for Alyssa, and a Toy Story 3 backpack for Marcus, which was his absolute favorite.  Brian opened up a crepe maker, which we're both thrilled with, and his parents came over for a crepe breakfast.

We spent the rest of the day visiting Brian's grandma, then going to Mike and Tallia's for Christmas dinner.  It was a wonderful Christmas, a beautiful day.  I loved watching my kids get excited for the holiday and play with their presents all day long.  We just had a happy, relaxed feeling in our home all day long, and it was wonderful.

We Can Do This, Baby

"We can do this, Baby," is the mantra I would chant to myself when things got bad.  "We can do this," when I'd have to breathe slowly to keep myself from throwing up.  "We can do this," after throwing up and having a few blessed minutes of feeling a little bit better.  But today I said "We can do this, Baby," with enthusiasm, because today has been a good day.

Things have gotten a lot better since my last post.  I went to the hospital again, added two new drugs to my list, which helped with the nausea but also made me feel really wierd, ran out of Zofran and found that it had been making me feel worse, and today I've just been taking medication as needed instead of around the clock like I've been doing.  It kind of makes me mad that the Zofran was making me sick - not mad at the doctors, because they wouldn't know.  I've heard of Zofran working for so many people.  But it makes me mad at the Zofran.  It was supposed to be helping, but it wasn't doing it's job, or maybe it was doing it's job, and maybe now that I'm further along I don't need it.  I don't know.  I'm taking any good days I can get with a smile.  I hope this lasts and things just keep getting better from here. 

Brian wants me to tell everyone that we didn't send Christmas cards, so if you didn't get one from us, don't feel bad - no one did.  I haven't even emailed a few people back who asked for our address so they could send us a Christmas card, because the medications I've been on have made focusing on the computer difficult.  So I will get to that, and next year everyone will get a fabulous Christmas card from us, but for now, just know that we appreciate you all and we hope that everyone has a very wonderful Christmas!

Gathering Strength

I haven't had the energy to post, but I've been wondering the past couple of days if I should.  I took my Zofran and Phenegren at 9:00, then I spit in the sink, checked on the boys, and went to bed, and I ended up just laying there with words running through my mind, and I knew I needed to post if I was going to get any sleep tonight.  I have to post, because I've had some horrible thoughts the last few days, and if Alyssa ever has those thoughts, or if this baby is a girl and she ends up having those thoughts, I want them to know that I've been there, that they're not alone.   I have to post because I started this blog not to show off what a perfect life I have or how incredibly cool I am, but to truly chronicle my life, and that means not just including the fluffy, happy thoughts, but the ugly ones as well.

Life is not easy right now.  Really, I shouldn't complain.  Brian is able to help more than he has during any of my other pregnancies, both of our families have jumped on board to offer any help that is needed, and I have a good doctor that believed me when I said I get sick and is working with me to fix things.  But still, life is hard.  The Zofran keeps me from throwing up, but it doesn't keep me from feeling nauseated all of the time or from gagging and dry heaving when I move too fast or stand up.  It's gotten so bad that I've taken to yelling at my body when it happens, too keep whatever is in my stomach, down.  "Stop," I'll yell, or "NO!" really loud.  I probably look like a crazy person.  My mouth is full of saliva, and it makes me just pukey to swallow it, so I spit into a garbage can all day, and when I move that garbage can it makes me sick just feeling how heavy it's gotten.

I'm tired of laying on the couch, or in bed, but it's about all that I'm able to do each day.  Today my accomplishments were taking a shower and washing Alyssa's bedding.  Even then, my mom was there to watch the boys for me, and she was the one who made Alyssa's bed once the sheets were clean.  Oh, and showering is hard.  I try to shower when I'm feeling my best, and I also try to shower quickly so I can get out of there fast, but I'm not able to move fast, so the shower drags on.  Most days I just shampoo and condition my hair and get out of there, but even then I have to lay on my bed for a while to recover afterward.

Needles to say, as thrilled as I am to have this new life growing inside me, I hate being pregnant.  Brian and I knew we wanted another child, so we tried to get pregnant over the summer so the worst of it would be over when school started, but when I wasn't pregnant in September, we decided to stop trying until the spring, and of course, this is when I got pregnant.  And I am happy.  I really am.  I'm glad that we get to welcome one more baby into our family, and I'm excited to meet this little person, and I know that once we get through the worst of this, eventually I will feel well enough to function normally.

Yesterday was a bad day.  It's the day I need to post about.  I spent the day on the couch, being loved (i.e. crawled on) by Ethan and Marcus, and I just didn't feel well.  So when Marcus decided to help himself to the bag of Cheez-Its on the counter, and decided to help himself by dumping the whole bag on the kitchen table, and I had to jump up and say, "No, that it not what we do," and try to get the Cheez-Its into a bowl while running to the sink multiple times to gag and dry heave and scream "No!" at myself and not at Marcus, I just lost it.  I stood at the sink and started to cry.  I then composed myself long enough to make sure the Cheez-Its were contained, and I went up to my room and locked the door, went to my bathroom and locked the door, and went to my closet to cry where my children couldn't hear me.

I would love to say at this point that I prayed, but I don't think you could call it praying.  Flat out murmuring is how I remember it.  I was mad at Heavenly Father - really mad.  I was mad that I get sick, that other women get so sick while they're pregnant.  I was mad that I'm given this trial, when I want children so badly.  This is our last pregnancy.  Brian and I decided even before we started trying that we were only going through this one more time, and I can tell you now, it will not be happening again.  But I wouldn't feel this hostile to adding children to our family if my pregnancies weren't so miserable.  So, yeah, I was mad, and I just sobbed over and over, "I can't do this.  I'm not strong enough," and "It's not fair!"

Then I called my mom, and when she heard the hysteria in my voice, that I couldn't even stop crying enough to let her know what was going on, she said she was coming over right away.  My sister, who was at my parent's house, called me back after I hung up, so I wouldn't be alone while I waited.  And this is when I said horrible things.  I said that if Heavenly Father wants me to have this baby, then I will hang on to the very end, but that even though I will love this baby, I don't feel close to it yet - all I feel is sick.  I said that if Heavenly Father wanted me to have a miscarriage that I would be sad, but that I would also be a little bit happy to feel like a normal person again.  I know that is a horrible thing to say.  I know it is.  I cringe just thinking about this baby growing up and reading this, and feeling like it wasn't wanted.  It is wanted - wanted so badly.  But I have to write this for my myself, for my daughter who might someday be sick and have a moment when she feels the same way, for the many women out there who suffer as I do, for the people who don't understand - who need to understand just how consuming and debilitating hyperemesis gravidarum can be.

I have to write this to give myself strength to carry on.  To remember that I want this baby, that I love this baby, and that I can make it to the end of this horrible pregnancy.  To remember that soon I'll be able to feel the baby move, and that is one of the greatest parts of pregnancy.  To remember that someday, sooner than it feels right now, I will hold this baby in my arms and think, "It was so worth it.  You were so worth it, and I would do it again, a thousand times if I had to, if it meant getting you."

So there you have it.  Carrie, in all her horribleness.  I'll leave you with that, partly because I've run out of things to say, but mostly because I'm tired of running to the bathroom sink to spit and to gag, and I know I need to lay down soon or I will definitely throw up.  Don't worry about me, though.  Brian's mom is scheduled to come over tomorrow to help.  I have an ultra sound scheduled fro Thursday, which the doctor wants me to do each week until the end of the first trimester, since I have a history of late first trimester miscarriages.  I've had two ultra sounds so far, and every time I see that tiny little heart beating, it gives me purpose.  I'm really okay, and I'm going to make it through this.

Guess Where I've Been

Note: the computer is down, and I used my phone to post this. I wasn't going to tell, but it's just awful. This will be edited soon.

We were going to wait until Christmas to tell anyone. We weren't going to tell our parents, and we weren't going to tell the kids until Christmas day. But I am lousy at keeping secrets. I had it all planned out, too. Just imagine a cute little post on Christmas morning saying that Santa brought a friendship bracelet kit for Alyssa, a airport block set for Ethan, a Batman block set for Marcus, and a bassinet for the new baby. See? Wouldn't that be a great way to tell everyone?

Instead it was, "Mom, I'm so sick. I need a bean burrito," and "Diane, I'm so sick. Can you cook up some chicken and hamburger at your house so I don't have to smell it?" and "Kids, Daddy and I wanted to tell you special on Chrismtas morning, but the reason I've been so sick is because we're getting a new baby, and we're really going to need your help," and finally, "Mom, I'm really sick. Brian is on the phone with the doctor and they want me to come in right now. Can you come watch the kids?"

Did you notice a theme to all that? Yes, I'm pregnant, and like always I am sick as a dog. Not fun. Brian took me in last night and they sent me straight to the hospital. The doctor gave me the option Of waiting a couple of days to go in, but we decided that the sooner the better, and we just hopped across the street to the hospital. They filled me full of fluid and drugs, and I left feeling pretty good. The doctor also put in an order for a Zofran pump to see if that helps me feel better. (I've been taking Zofran tablets for about a week now, and they're helping, but not as good as we'd like.) He also told us to come back to the hospital as often as we need to until we get things under control. So hopefully we'll get this thing kicked before it kicks me. We found out that I have thyroid problems, which may be contributing to the sickness. I left the hospital felog like a normal person, then I started feeling like I had what I would assume to be normal morning sickness, and now it's gotten a little worse. I'm excited to take my Phenegren tonight, because I think that combined with the Zofran will help a lot, and of course, once my Zofran pump comes and I'm getting a continuous supply , things will get better.

BriN got me a really ute charm bracelet thatwas wrapped up and sitting under the Christmas tree when I came home today. It's a pregnancy bracelet, and you add a new charm each month until the baby comes. I love it! I put it on this afternoon, and when feel my two little charms dangling, imreminded that there's a very exciting reason for all of this, and that in July we'll have a sweet little baby.