After about a year after having my gallbladder out, I figured it was time to go back to a GI doctor about my intestinal problems. I still had spasms where my gallbladder used to be, and still had terribly IBS most days. I was also seriously contemplating getting a nutritionist/dietitian so I could see if a diet program would work better for me than what I was doing. On top of these decisions, we also felt that it was time for us to get pregnant.
It was scary and exciting to contemplate having a child. Scary, because initially we had planned not to try for a while longer, and because of my health. Could I safely carry a child? Would I have the energy to care for a child when he or she came? Would being pregnant help or hurt my health? Hormones had often helped my gut during my periods, but sometimes they really hurt it too. It was a toss up. I worried that my pregnancy would be a toss up.
It was exciting because, well, Stephen and I have always both loved children and often talked about our future family. It hurt some, thinking about having a family without our oldest child, but it was also nice thinking of actually being able to raise a child ourselves. There has always been mixed emotion. But excitement was still incredibly strong.
Regardless of our mixed emotions, we still felt it was the right decision. So we started trying, and I started seeing a dietitian and a new GI doctor. The GI doctor did a bunch of tests that came back negative, gave me some other gut-health pills to try, and told me good luck with getting pregnant. There wasn't anything else she could do for me. She was very sweet, though, and I feel she did her best, so I had no animosity toward her. Oh yeah, and she was also the doctor to finally just diagnose me with IBS.
My dietitian had more helpful things for me. She gave me a more comprehensive list of foods that can aggravate IBS (on which were mot of my food allergens, surprise, surprise), and had me start recording my meals. She also had me increase my calories, partially to gain weight, and partially to start preparing for the baby. Through the food journal, we eliminated a couple more foods from my diet, and I did gain a bit more energy from eating more.
Very soon after starting to see the dietitian--or maybe just before?--we got pregnant! Wow! What exciting news! I could hardly believe. I had to keep checking. It was a miracle.
We withheld the news from everyone (except my mom, since I needed her advice; sadly, my mom isn't great at secrets, so everyone living with her ended up finding out) because I was worried about miscarrying. My oldest sister miscarries a lot, so I wanted to be cautious, especially since this was my first pregnancy. Luckily, my health really was about the same the first trimester, with only a little more acid refux and only one time throwing up. Everything else was EXACTLY the same symptoms I'd already been dealing with for two years.
We announced the pregnancy at the end of the first trimester. Once I entered the second trimester, my health improved BIG time. Turns out the hormones were VERY good for my body, which is good, because we ended up moving out of our apartment during that time.
I still had quite a bit of fatigue, but I still had more usable hours to my day and was able to keep up with light exercise throughout the summer. (I got pregnant in January, and we moved at the end of May.) Steve introduced me to some video games that require thinking skills, so that helped combat my brain fog. I still couldn't push myself too hard or far, but I managed to get by. Overall, it was not that bad.
Then at the beginning of August, right around the start of my third trimester, we moved again. It was hot, humid, and miserable! And I couldn't do as much to help out since I was so far along. It was frustrating, but I got through it. We all got through it.
Now in our new place, my health started tanking again in the final stages of the pregnancy. I got a part-time job as a writing tutor, working at the EAC writing center. It was nice because it was light work and got me out of the house, where I was slowly going crazy.
I became anxious for the baby to come. October came, and so did he. Another miracle. And a tremendous blessing.
During the whole pregnancy, my fears of being able to care for my son did not cease. I was worried the whole time. What if my joints flared up and I dropped him? What if I was too fatigued and he needed me? My sister moved with us, so I at least had some support, but I desperately desired to care for him largely on my own.
I will not lie, after our baby came, things got drastically harder. I ended up having postpartum anxiety, but all the tests came back with different results, so they sent me to an endocrinologist just to verify what it was caused by. Turns out it was postpartum thyroiditis, namely hyperthyroidism. So fun on top of my other problems. I suffered from debilitating anxiety attacks and spent most of my days irritable. My sister and husband were absolutely wonderful during that whole time. They were patient and were able to care for Isaac when I couldn't. I'm so grateful.
The endo got my hyperthyroidism under control in under four months, and I am already off the medication. But I still have fatigue, IBS, and arthritic flare ups, among my other health problems that crop up.
It's funny, because I've often been told my doctors that I'm still healthy regardless of all this. But I don't feel healthy. Pretty sure I'm not in good health. But because it's difficult to pinpoint what's wrong in all of this, I guess they think it's comforting to hear that I'm healthy?
Despite the fact that all my fears have been realized since Isaac was born (namely, my inability to care for him at times), I don't regret having him. And honestly, I believe the Lord knew exactly what kind of child we needed. Isaac is a patient, happy baby who doesn't mind if mommy can't always play with him. He's pretty independent, which is helpful when my sister and Steve are at work, because I can relax or, if I'm feeling halfway decent, clean, and not worry too much about him.
My doctor here is working on getting me diagnosed with fibromyalgia and getting me to a pain specialist, and I'm seeing a wellness coach for my stomach problems, so hopefully soon I can be a more independent mommy. The hardest thing is really accepting that I can't always take care of everything, or even just take care of Isaac, and that it doesn't make me a bad wife or mother. My health may hinder me, but it doesn't define who I am. And I don't regret having a child with all of these health challenges. When something is right, it's right. Isaac keeps me going when I'd otherwise sink into depression. He brightens my world and keeps me from being lonely when Steve is gone.
So I keep plugging on, because that's all I can do. And I hope that I can get my health troubles managed so that my boy, and other children that come along, can have a working mom instead of a banged up one. But if my health never improves, we'll work through it and I'll love my kids as best as I can. Because that's what a mom does.
Cheers~
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