Just a warning to anyone currently pregnant: *foodments*
Now that that's out of the way...recovery this time is SO MUCH EASIER than last time. I think that there are a lot of factors involved, which I may or may not get into at some point, but I'm just so relieved that things are going much more smoothly. Physically I'm in a good place, health-wise I'm doing great, and mentally and emotionally I'm also doing really, really well. After my first birth things were kind of dark there for a while until I figured out that I had PTSD, and then I was able to start healing. This time I feel that there isn't as much healing to do, largely due to the support that I know I have and to the significantly better care that I had.
I'm sure that it also helps that I'm way too busy to actually think about things. NM lost his job five days after I gave birth, and since we're just barely getting by and don't have any savings for a rainy day (because if we were setting aside for savings then we wouldn't be getting by) - I returned to work at 2.5 weeks postpartum. This isn't really as scary as it sounds; I work from home to begin with. I could do without the added stress, but on the other hand it gives me an outlet to just be me and not the milk machine and cuddler and diaper changer that my kids think I am. My job is really fascinating...most of the time, and I'm very good at it. It's nice to be able to sit down and work, do something for myself intellectually while also supporting my family.
Now here's my really big struggle this time: I don't know what normal eating looks like. I feel like I'm always eating these days, and yes, I know that breastfeeding mothers need extra calories and shouldn't be on any sort of diet. But I just feel like I'm eating SO MUCH. But is it really a lot of food and maybe too much, or is it just so much more than I was able to eat while pregnant?
Ever since my first pregnancy in 2010, I never eat until I have that 'full' feeling. I eat until I am relatively satisfied and call it done. Why? Well originally it was because eating until I was full would make me nauseous and I was terrified of losing my meal because...well...you know why. Did more than enough of that.
Now I find myself wondering if eating until I'm full will actually make me nauseous, or if I just think it will and am too scared to find out. Either way, I have completely no clue whatsoever as to what on earth a normal portion size is and I can't for the life of me estimate how much food I'm supposed to be eating. I'm considering seeing a dietician simply to get the answers to those questions, because I'm feeling a bit lost here.
In the meantime, I eat whatever I want, whenever I want it. Since I did actually gain weight this time around, I could afford to lose up to 5 kg but am not yet doing anything actively to shed that weight. I just don't want to be gaining weight, so I guess that as long as I'm keeping it steady I won't worry too much about things.
But do you know the one worst thing about such an easy recovery? It makes me forget how awful things were, and I would totally be stupid enough to do this all again. So far I have given two complete pregnancies to HG, plus I didn't get back to myself until my daughter was 14 months old. That's basically three years of my life that HG has stolen from me already - and since we're still a month-and-a-half away from our fourth wedding anniversary, that's almost our entire marriage that has been screwed up by HG.
*Sigh* At least I know that a good recovery is possible.
Showing posts with label ptsd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ptsd. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Sunday, October 6, 2013
HG Vanquished
It's been a LONG time since I wrote anything. I just couldn't deal with keeping this blog updated...not that I have a particularly large readership to begin with. :)
Baby Boy (AA) has arrived, finally, after nine VERY long months. He is now three weeks old and what can I say - we're in love. :) Big sister LH will be turning three later this month. It's hard to believe that I was stupid enough to do this twice in the span of three years, but hey - sometimes man plans and God laughs, and let's just leave it at that.
Overall, I would have to say that my pregnancy with AA was easier than with LH. For starts, this time we knew what we were dealing with and we knew what treatment to demand. I was on zofran from around 5 weeks this time, versus last time where I didn't get it until second trimester. Second trimester, can you believe???
I lost the same amount of weight with AA as with LH (10 kg), but I started out 2 kg heavier this time around so while I was much skinnier than I should have been, I wasn't actually as horribly ill-looking as last time. Also, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles - I actually gained weight beyond my pre-pregnancy weight! After about 20 weeks I started to gain weight and managed to gain not only the 10 kg I had lost, but an additional 7 beyond that. That means that after I gave birth, I was just 1-2 kg above my pre-pregnancy weight and that's where I'm holding.
My recovery from this pregnancy is about a zillion times better and easier than in my first pregnancy. Part of it is the better medical care, part of it is knowing what the heck is going on, part of it is being much better at asking for help and making myself take it easy. A big part of it is the fantastic birth that I had with this one. For a quick overview of my two births, and why this recovery is so much better:
LH - labor was a total of 9.5 hours. All natural birth; got to the hospital about three hours before the birth. Went from 4 cm to birth in around an hour or so. Even though she was small (2.948 kg, or around 6lbs8oz), I had some pretty significant tearing and the lovely stitches and more difficult recovery that goes along with that. Not to mention that I was not in good health at the time of her birth due to the HG, and I was suffering from PTSD.
AA - labor was a total of 2 hours 50 minutes. Yes, you read that correctly. I woke up at 12:47 AM with a strong contraction. The next one was seven minutes later...next seven minutes later...then six minutes...then five...then we hopped in a cab to the hospital. It's about a 10 minute drive and by the time we got there, I was contracting every two minutes. Of course the first thing they did at the hospital was lay me flat on my back and strap me to a monitor, after so helpfully informing me that I was only 3 cm. I felt like I was dying and pretty quickly changed my mind about wanting an epidural. So they sent me to L&D (had been in triage). They were really hopping that night with women giving birth, so we had a midwife with us but no nurse or doctor in sight. Basically, she told me that the anesthesiologist was busy with another woman at the time but that she thought I was moving too quickly to be able to get an epidural. Each time she checked me (at close intervals) I was a centimeter further along. Finally when I was 7 cm, she told me that she thought if she broke my water, I would give birth. While I didn't really want unnecessary interventions, I just wanted the pain to end so I gave her permission. She broke my water and I had an immediate feeling of relief...until my body starting pushing! Needless to say, she was right. She broke my water and five minutes later I was holding my son. He was 3.565 kg (a coupld of ounces shy of 8 lbs), with a much bigger head than his sister, and I had absolutely NO tearing (even though I felt like I was being ripped open while pushing him out). Fast, intense birth + no stitches = significantly better recovery. Not to mention that I was in better health to begin with.
At any rate, I find it very interesting to take a look at my toenails. You can clearly see where my health was bad and I was malnourished, and where it got better. I like the smooth nail part where it got better; but the not-nice-looking nail part legitimizes for me how sick I was. I mean, it's not that easy to mess up your nails like that through normal fluctuations in diet. But what I was experiencing was NOT a normal fluctuation, or a small fluctuation like an acute illness. It was honest to goodness malnutrition.
I suffered from PTSD after my pregnancy with LH, but I honestly don't think I'll have a problem this time. Physically, mentally, and emotionally I just feel so good. I have to attribute a lot of that to the better support network I had this time. As much as I may not see eye-to-eye with my in-laws all the time, they really helped out a lot. They took care of LH when I couldn't, drove me to and from hospital/urgent care/doctor's appointments, and we actually lived by them for a full month when I was at my worst. They were a steady item in her life when everything else was topsy-turvy.
I can't not mention KT, a very dear friend with the biggest heart in the world. We first 'met' online while she was in the midst of her second HG pregnancy and was reaching out for support. I feel blessed that I was able to help her when she needed it...and she has repaid that a thousandfold. I can't even begin to list the things she has done for us, but let's just say she is awesome awesome awesome.
Of course I couldn't have done it without my husband, NM. Between his full-time job and running out household during that time, he most certainly had his hands full and he came through it much better this second time around.
The other friends and family who helped out, supported, gave LH some sense of normalcy, tried to do everything they could to help me feel better...what can I say, it makes all the difference.
And of course, my mother arrived two days before the birth and the help and support she provided in the three weeks total that she was here were invaluable. It was so good to be able to just take it easy and not have to worry about things like cooking and housework while I started to recover.
Baby Boy (AA) has arrived, finally, after nine VERY long months. He is now three weeks old and what can I say - we're in love. :) Big sister LH will be turning three later this month. It's hard to believe that I was stupid enough to do this twice in the span of three years, but hey - sometimes man plans and God laughs, and let's just leave it at that.
Overall, I would have to say that my pregnancy with AA was easier than with LH. For starts, this time we knew what we were dealing with and we knew what treatment to demand. I was on zofran from around 5 weeks this time, versus last time where I didn't get it until second trimester. Second trimester, can you believe???
I lost the same amount of weight with AA as with LH (10 kg), but I started out 2 kg heavier this time around so while I was much skinnier than I should have been, I wasn't actually as horribly ill-looking as last time. Also, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles - I actually gained weight beyond my pre-pregnancy weight! After about 20 weeks I started to gain weight and managed to gain not only the 10 kg I had lost, but an additional 7 beyond that. That means that after I gave birth, I was just 1-2 kg above my pre-pregnancy weight and that's where I'm holding.
My recovery from this pregnancy is about a zillion times better and easier than in my first pregnancy. Part of it is the better medical care, part of it is knowing what the heck is going on, part of it is being much better at asking for help and making myself take it easy. A big part of it is the fantastic birth that I had with this one. For a quick overview of my two births, and why this recovery is so much better:
LH - labor was a total of 9.5 hours. All natural birth; got to the hospital about three hours before the birth. Went from 4 cm to birth in around an hour or so. Even though she was small (2.948 kg, or around 6lbs8oz), I had some pretty significant tearing and the lovely stitches and more difficult recovery that goes along with that. Not to mention that I was not in good health at the time of her birth due to the HG, and I was suffering from PTSD.
AA - labor was a total of 2 hours 50 minutes. Yes, you read that correctly. I woke up at 12:47 AM with a strong contraction. The next one was seven minutes later...next seven minutes later...then six minutes...then five...then we hopped in a cab to the hospital. It's about a 10 minute drive and by the time we got there, I was contracting every two minutes. Of course the first thing they did at the hospital was lay me flat on my back and strap me to a monitor, after so helpfully informing me that I was only 3 cm. I felt like I was dying and pretty quickly changed my mind about wanting an epidural. So they sent me to L&D (had been in triage). They were really hopping that night with women giving birth, so we had a midwife with us but no nurse or doctor in sight. Basically, she told me that the anesthesiologist was busy with another woman at the time but that she thought I was moving too quickly to be able to get an epidural. Each time she checked me (at close intervals) I was a centimeter further along. Finally when I was 7 cm, she told me that she thought if she broke my water, I would give birth. While I didn't really want unnecessary interventions, I just wanted the pain to end so I gave her permission. She broke my water and I had an immediate feeling of relief...until my body starting pushing! Needless to say, she was right. She broke my water and five minutes later I was holding my son. He was 3.565 kg (a coupld of ounces shy of 8 lbs), with a much bigger head than his sister, and I had absolutely NO tearing (even though I felt like I was being ripped open while pushing him out). Fast, intense birth + no stitches = significantly better recovery. Not to mention that I was in better health to begin with.
At any rate, I find it very interesting to take a look at my toenails. You can clearly see where my health was bad and I was malnourished, and where it got better. I like the smooth nail part where it got better; but the not-nice-looking nail part legitimizes for me how sick I was. I mean, it's not that easy to mess up your nails like that through normal fluctuations in diet. But what I was experiencing was NOT a normal fluctuation, or a small fluctuation like an acute illness. It was honest to goodness malnutrition.
I suffered from PTSD after my pregnancy with LH, but I honestly don't think I'll have a problem this time. Physically, mentally, and emotionally I just feel so good. I have to attribute a lot of that to the better support network I had this time. As much as I may not see eye-to-eye with my in-laws all the time, they really helped out a lot. They took care of LH when I couldn't, drove me to and from hospital/urgent care/doctor's appointments, and we actually lived by them for a full month when I was at my worst. They were a steady item in her life when everything else was topsy-turvy.
I can't not mention KT, a very dear friend with the biggest heart in the world. We first 'met' online while she was in the midst of her second HG pregnancy and was reaching out for support. I feel blessed that I was able to help her when she needed it...and she has repaid that a thousandfold. I can't even begin to list the things she has done for us, but let's just say she is awesome awesome awesome.
Of course I couldn't have done it without my husband, NM. Between his full-time job and running out household during that time, he most certainly had his hands full and he came through it much better this second time around.
The other friends and family who helped out, supported, gave LH some sense of normalcy, tried to do everything they could to help me feel better...what can I say, it makes all the difference.
And of course, my mother arrived two days before the birth and the help and support she provided in the three weeks total that she was here were invaluable. It was so good to be able to just take it easy and not have to worry about things like cooking and housework while I started to recover.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Insomnia Woes
Much of my first pregnancy is a bit hazy, due partially to the wonderful fact that God seems to have created women to forget these difficult stages of life, and partially because I have intentionally blocked out all of the suffering. So when people ask me specific questions about how this one compares to the previous one, I sometimes have trouble answering them clearly.
For example, right now I'm suffering from insomnia. I fall asleep quite easily at night, but only stay asleep for around three hours before waking up and staying that way until shortly before I have to wake my toddler for my husband to take her to daycare. Aside from the fact that this is annoying and I'm always exhausted, this also has the effect of making all of my oh-so-wonderful symptoms worse. Your body just can't do what it needs to do if you don't give it the tools to do so - and one of the most important tools is rest.
I can't for the life of me remember if I had the same sleeping issues last time. I don't really think that I did, but I honestly have no recollection. Of course things were different back then, as I had neither a job nor an older child to care for, so even if I couldn't sleep at night it wouldn't have been the end of the world and I could have made it up a bit during the day. But I just don't know.
Any brilliant suggestions that anyone has, preferably without further medicating myself, are more than welcome...no matter how much I've improved recently, nothing good is going to come of it if I can't get proper rest. Ah, the wonderful joys of pregnancy.
For example, right now I'm suffering from insomnia. I fall asleep quite easily at night, but only stay asleep for around three hours before waking up and staying that way until shortly before I have to wake my toddler for my husband to take her to daycare. Aside from the fact that this is annoying and I'm always exhausted, this also has the effect of making all of my oh-so-wonderful symptoms worse. Your body just can't do what it needs to do if you don't give it the tools to do so - and one of the most important tools is rest.
I can't for the life of me remember if I had the same sleeping issues last time. I don't really think that I did, but I honestly have no recollection. Of course things were different back then, as I had neither a job nor an older child to care for, so even if I couldn't sleep at night it wouldn't have been the end of the world and I could have made it up a bit during the day. But I just don't know.
Any brilliant suggestions that anyone has, preferably without further medicating myself, are more than welcome...no matter how much I've improved recently, nothing good is going to come of it if I can't get proper rest. Ah, the wonderful joys of pregnancy.
Monday, April 8, 2013
18 weeks and slightly less miserable
I know that it's been forever since I wrote anything here, and you'd think that while I'm suffering from this oh-so-wonderful malady would be the perfect time to tell you all exactly how it is. Truth be told, I keep thinking of posts to write, and then when it actually comes down to it I decide not to. It's depressing enough to be going through all of this; I don't always want to also be hashing it out in words on the internet.
So let's just say this. Life has been super super sucky, but I'm starting to improve. The Brownie is perfectly healthy and growing very nicely (is actually measuring about a week ahead, and since there was some question as to my dates to begin with, now I am thoroughly confused about how far along I am). I have an itty bitty tummy poking out of my bony body. While I am managing to eat and drink enough to keep going, I have been completely unsuccessful at putting on any weight, and so I am still at -10kg (-22lbs) from where I started. Lovely.
I'm working pretty much full time to what I usually do, but since I work from home and can work in bed, that's no biggie in the grand scheme of things. Our bank account is looking pretty sad because at the beginning I really couldn't work at all, plus of course zofran takes a big chunk out of it every month. Oh, zofran. How I love you.
I went to the doctor last week for a regular check up, and she sent me straight on to an emergency center for hydration (a lovely relative decided to share a stomach virus with me). One blown vein and one bag of IV fluids later, my urinalysis came back exactly the same as before the fluids. And they discharged me anyways. I don't really know why they sent me home like that, as I'm still struggling to make up the lost fluids now, almost a week later. Oh well, I have survived and shall continue to do so.
So that's a quick summary. I have very little desire to go ahead and detail my living hell while I'm still living through it. Afterwards it can be therapeutic, but during it just makes me feel worse. I am NOT doing this again any time soon....
So let's just say this. Life has been super super sucky, but I'm starting to improve. The Brownie is perfectly healthy and growing very nicely (is actually measuring about a week ahead, and since there was some question as to my dates to begin with, now I am thoroughly confused about how far along I am). I have an itty bitty tummy poking out of my bony body. While I am managing to eat and drink enough to keep going, I have been completely unsuccessful at putting on any weight, and so I am still at -10kg (-22lbs) from where I started. Lovely.
I'm working pretty much full time to what I usually do, but since I work from home and can work in bed, that's no biggie in the grand scheme of things. Our bank account is looking pretty sad because at the beginning I really couldn't work at all, plus of course zofran takes a big chunk out of it every month. Oh, zofran. How I love you.
I went to the doctor last week for a regular check up, and she sent me straight on to an emergency center for hydration (a lovely relative decided to share a stomach virus with me). One blown vein and one bag of IV fluids later, my urinalysis came back exactly the same as before the fluids. And they discharged me anyways. I don't really know why they sent me home like that, as I'm still struggling to make up the lost fluids now, almost a week later. Oh well, I have survived and shall continue to do so.
So that's a quick summary. I have very little desire to go ahead and detail my living hell while I'm still living through it. Afterwards it can be therapeutic, but during it just makes me feel worse. I am NOT doing this again any time soon....
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Emotional Rollercoaster
I have gone through such a set of emotions in the past several weeks. First I was just happy and I spent some time to bask in that happiness and optimism by myself before sharing the news with my husband (who I knew would be incredibly stressed by the news, but ultimately happy because we like babies a lot). I managed to hold on to that optimism for quite a nice while, I think. Unfortunately, that has all been turned around now that I see that I am going down the HG road again.
Seriously, half the time I just want to cry - and I guarantee that it's not all hormones. I remember, perhaps a bit too vividly, how truly horrible things were last time. I know that much of that was due to not getting proper medical care until it was too late to prevent or reverse the course I was already going down. But some of it was just good ol' hyperemesis at work.
Part of me keeps thinking, how could I have let myself get into this mess again? Why did I think that I could do this again and be fine? How can I do this again to my husband and now to my toddler daughter? Even with the best treatment, we will all be relying too heavily on my husband and I won't be able to give my daughter the attention that she deserves. I already don't feel up to taking her to the park (which is right outside our front door) and I know that I haven't hit the worst yet. Hopefully I will be fully medicated and the worst won't actually be much worse than right now, but there are no guarantees in this business.
After giving birth to LH a bit over two years ago, I told my husband that I was willing to give it two more tries for a total of three children, but that if HG was a constant in our lives then no way were we ever going to get to the 6 that we had originally dreamed of. Now I'm looking back and thinking that I was a fool for promising I would do this two more times. I mean, why on earth would someone knowingly subject themselves to this oh-so-wonderful torture? If you have HG once then you are more likely than not going to have it again; once you've had it twice I feel like there's just no hope.
I so much understand all the people who go the adoption or surrogacy route, but unfortunately neither of those are an option for us. Surrogacy is not only incredibly expensive, I also would feel really bad about it. For me, I wouldn't be able to have that emotional disconnect that I was carrying a child in my womb who wasn't mine. So I can't expect another woman to be able to do so, at least not without me feeling kind of bad about it.
As for adoption, from what I understand the list in Israel to adopt a newborn is nearly 10 years long. So aside from the expense and the long wait, I would also feel bad about that. There are many, many couples on that waiting list who are physically incapable of bearing their own children. I'm not incapable; I just find it an incredibly distressing experience. I would feel bad taking up their spots just because I "didn't feel like" making my own baby the usual way.
To me, two kids isn't a complete family. But what am I supposed to do? This is a really, really depressing and difficult thing to go through and it will just be more difficult each time as I have more existing children to look after. There are women who do these multiple times, even six or more times, but I frankly have no desire to go through this a second time let alone a fifth.
I suppose that a few years down the line I'll be back on here, blogging about the exact same thing and how I can't believe that I let myself get into this for a third time. What can I say, babies just make me so happy. :)
Seriously, half the time I just want to cry - and I guarantee that it's not all hormones. I remember, perhaps a bit too vividly, how truly horrible things were last time. I know that much of that was due to not getting proper medical care until it was too late to prevent or reverse the course I was already going down. But some of it was just good ol' hyperemesis at work.
Part of me keeps thinking, how could I have let myself get into this mess again? Why did I think that I could do this again and be fine? How can I do this again to my husband and now to my toddler daughter? Even with the best treatment, we will all be relying too heavily on my husband and I won't be able to give my daughter the attention that she deserves. I already don't feel up to taking her to the park (which is right outside our front door) and I know that I haven't hit the worst yet. Hopefully I will be fully medicated and the worst won't actually be much worse than right now, but there are no guarantees in this business.
After giving birth to LH a bit over two years ago, I told my husband that I was willing to give it two more tries for a total of three children, but that if HG was a constant in our lives then no way were we ever going to get to the 6 that we had originally dreamed of. Now I'm looking back and thinking that I was a fool for promising I would do this two more times. I mean, why on earth would someone knowingly subject themselves to this oh-so-wonderful torture? If you have HG once then you are more likely than not going to have it again; once you've had it twice I feel like there's just no hope.
I so much understand all the people who go the adoption or surrogacy route, but unfortunately neither of those are an option for us. Surrogacy is not only incredibly expensive, I also would feel really bad about it. For me, I wouldn't be able to have that emotional disconnect that I was carrying a child in my womb who wasn't mine. So I can't expect another woman to be able to do so, at least not without me feeling kind of bad about it.
As for adoption, from what I understand the list in Israel to adopt a newborn is nearly 10 years long. So aside from the expense and the long wait, I would also feel bad about that. There are many, many couples on that waiting list who are physically incapable of bearing their own children. I'm not incapable; I just find it an incredibly distressing experience. I would feel bad taking up their spots just because I "didn't feel like" making my own baby the usual way.
To me, two kids isn't a complete family. But what am I supposed to do? This is a really, really depressing and difficult thing to go through and it will just be more difficult each time as I have more existing children to look after. There are women who do these multiple times, even six or more times, but I frankly have no desire to go through this a second time let alone a fifth.
I suppose that a few years down the line I'll be back on here, blogging about the exact same thing and how I can't believe that I let myself get into this for a third time. What can I say, babies just make me so happy. :)
Saturday, September 29, 2012
The Value of a Friend
Back when I was pregnant in 2010, I pretty much had no one to talk to about what was going on with me - no one who could understand, that is. Of course my husband was there for me but he was sort of at a loss as to what was going on and what to do with me (as was I). I had some friends who stuck by my side during that time but none of them had ever been pregnant much less had HG, so they were also clueless. Of course it didn't help that I could barely talk on the phone or in person.
Even though I became involved with the forums at www.helpher.org and eventually on babycenter, all of the women were in America or other countries and I never really made that connection with any of them. So as nice as it was to read that other people were going through the same things as me (actually, most of them were much worse than I was), I didn't really get that bond that I had been looking for.
Then comes a random private message from K earlier this year, asking if she could ask me a specific question. Sure enough, K is another unfortunate HG sufferer here in Israel where the care for this debilitating disease is subpar, for the most part. She was already in her third trimester but was still suffering a lot and struggling with an OB who didn't really have a clue about HG but was willing to go along with some suggestions that she brought to his attention.
Oh boy, was it nice to be able to help someone out while I didn't need help at that point. And you know what? I think that the relationship is very good for both of us. We both get it. Most people don't realize that the effects of HG don't just go away once you give birth. Physical recovery can easily take a year and emotional recovery - heck, I'm still working on that one and LH will turn two next month.
All of our non-HG friends get tired of us talking about it and more or less tell us to shut up and leave the past in the past. What they don't realize is that HG isn't only our past - it is also part of our present and, most likely, our future. We can't just shut it out and forget about it. For us, talking it out is therapeutic and helps us work through some of the fears and anxieties that are left behind. We just need a supportive ear to listen.
I am so glad to say that I have found that supportive ear in K, and I really hope that she feels the same about me. To give you an idea about the kind of person she is - she knows another HG sufferer (TG), currently in the hell of her first trimester. TG is currently hospitalized and has been for more than a week because her HG is just out of control. Well K hopped on a bus one day with her baby and went to the hospital to visit TG, then stayed late so that she could be there when the doctor made his rounds so that she could talk to him and be an advocate for TG and make treatment suggestions. Thank goodness she did - the doctor actually listened to her and implemented several of the suggestions. Mind you, she had 3+ hours of bus travel each direction to do this. Isn't she awesome?
So yes, I have found a gem of a friend and that is so so so so so so so important when you are in the HG world, just trying to get by one day at a time. If you are an HG survivor, network and try to find an HG sufferer and befriend her. Advocate for her. Do for her everything that you wished someone had done for you. You never know, you might save a life.
Even though I became involved with the forums at www.helpher.org and eventually on babycenter, all of the women were in America or other countries and I never really made that connection with any of them. So as nice as it was to read that other people were going through the same things as me (actually, most of them were much worse than I was), I didn't really get that bond that I had been looking for.
Then comes a random private message from K earlier this year, asking if she could ask me a specific question. Sure enough, K is another unfortunate HG sufferer here in Israel where the care for this debilitating disease is subpar, for the most part. She was already in her third trimester but was still suffering a lot and struggling with an OB who didn't really have a clue about HG but was willing to go along with some suggestions that she brought to his attention.
Oh boy, was it nice to be able to help someone out while I didn't need help at that point. And you know what? I think that the relationship is very good for both of us. We both get it. Most people don't realize that the effects of HG don't just go away once you give birth. Physical recovery can easily take a year and emotional recovery - heck, I'm still working on that one and LH will turn two next month.
All of our non-HG friends get tired of us talking about it and more or less tell us to shut up and leave the past in the past. What they don't realize is that HG isn't only our past - it is also part of our present and, most likely, our future. We can't just shut it out and forget about it. For us, talking it out is therapeutic and helps us work through some of the fears and anxieties that are left behind. We just need a supportive ear to listen.
I am so glad to say that I have found that supportive ear in K, and I really hope that she feels the same about me. To give you an idea about the kind of person she is - she knows another HG sufferer (TG), currently in the hell of her first trimester. TG is currently hospitalized and has been for more than a week because her HG is just out of control. Well K hopped on a bus one day with her baby and went to the hospital to visit TG, then stayed late so that she could be there when the doctor made his rounds so that she could talk to him and be an advocate for TG and make treatment suggestions. Thank goodness she did - the doctor actually listened to her and implemented several of the suggestions. Mind you, she had 3+ hours of bus travel each direction to do this. Isn't she awesome?
So yes, I have found a gem of a friend and that is so so so so so so so important when you are in the HG world, just trying to get by one day at a time. If you are an HG survivor, network and try to find an HG sufferer and befriend her. Advocate for her. Do for her everything that you wished someone had done for you. You never know, you might save a life.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Some People are Buttheads
My friend K recently sent me a great article that had been written by an HG sufferer and survivor for a women's magazine. In it she details her journey through her first pregnancy with severe HG in all its wonderfulness. I think she did a fantastic job, although I must say that if I had been the one writing it there are certain parts that I would have stressed more to help get the seriousness across.
The next thing I hear is that in a later issue of the magazine a woman wrote in to the editor saying that since this wonderful HG momma hadn't had a PICC line, then clearly it wasn't severe HG and she demanded the magazine print a correction saying so - which they did.
If only I could get my hands on that letter to the editor, I would write such a scathing reply that that woman wouldn't know what had hit her. How dare she do something like that. Seriously - how dare she?
A little education here: just because you don't have a PICC line doesn't mean you don't have severe HG. Some doctors are unwilling to place one because of the inherent risks, and I have never ever heard of a woman being given a PICC line for treatment of HG in Israel (where the original writer suffered through her pregnancy). There are a million and one reasons why a woman wouldn't get one.
If you look at the HER Foundation website at the list of signs of severe HG, there is nothing there saying "you don't have severe HG unless you have a PICC line". I mean, seriously, are you kidding me?
Do you know what it feels like when you go through all that pain and suffering - and yes, it is pain and suffering - and then when you open yourself up to the world in the hopes of educating others, helping other mothers going through it, and perhaps finding some closure yourself - do you know what it feels like when someone comes along and says that you weren't really suffering like you said you were?
Let me tell you a story. There was a terrible car accident and both drivers are severely injured. One driver needs a leg amputation, the other leg is shattered, his liver is lacerated, he has severe whiplash, and multiple head injuries. You would say that this man is in critical condition, yes? But wait - the other driver has all of these injuries plus seven more and spends three weeks in a coma etc. etc. Now are you going to go back and tell the first man that just because his injuries aren't as bad, he really wasn't injured at all? No, because it would be completely ridiculous to say something like that.
So Ms. Letter to the Editor, let me tell you this. No one makes up having severe HG. No one will give herself that label just to feel 'cool' or to make things seem more serious than they were. If she was diagnosed with severe HG, she had severe HG - end of story. You, someone looking in from the outside who has absolutely no clue who she is and what she actually went through, have no right to belittle her suffering and to demand a correction.
It doesn't matter if you yourself are an HG sufferer, if you are a medical professional, if you are random Joe Shmoe off the street. Unless you are this woman or her doctor, you have no right to say anything. The only appropriate response to an article such as hers is "I'm so sorry that you went through that. I will pray that you never go through that again. Now I know about HG and if I come across a woman suffering from it, I know where to send her for information and I better know how to support her."
Clearly the woman who wrote in to the editor knows something about HG because she knows that (in the US) a PICC line is frequently used to treat the worst cases. But she clearly doesn't know enough to shut the hell up and not make a bad situation worse.
So please, think before you open your mouth. Sometimes really stupid things come out.
The next thing I hear is that in a later issue of the magazine a woman wrote in to the editor saying that since this wonderful HG momma hadn't had a PICC line, then clearly it wasn't severe HG and she demanded the magazine print a correction saying so - which they did.
If only I could get my hands on that letter to the editor, I would write such a scathing reply that that woman wouldn't know what had hit her. How dare she do something like that. Seriously - how dare she?
A little education here: just because you don't have a PICC line doesn't mean you don't have severe HG. Some doctors are unwilling to place one because of the inherent risks, and I have never ever heard of a woman being given a PICC line for treatment of HG in Israel (where the original writer suffered through her pregnancy). There are a million and one reasons why a woman wouldn't get one.
If you look at the HER Foundation website at the list of signs of severe HG, there is nothing there saying "you don't have severe HG unless you have a PICC line". I mean, seriously, are you kidding me?
Do you know what it feels like when you go through all that pain and suffering - and yes, it is pain and suffering - and then when you open yourself up to the world in the hopes of educating others, helping other mothers going through it, and perhaps finding some closure yourself - do you know what it feels like when someone comes along and says that you weren't really suffering like you said you were?
Let me tell you a story. There was a terrible car accident and both drivers are severely injured. One driver needs a leg amputation, the other leg is shattered, his liver is lacerated, he has severe whiplash, and multiple head injuries. You would say that this man is in critical condition, yes? But wait - the other driver has all of these injuries plus seven more and spends three weeks in a coma etc. etc. Now are you going to go back and tell the first man that just because his injuries aren't as bad, he really wasn't injured at all? No, because it would be completely ridiculous to say something like that.
So Ms. Letter to the Editor, let me tell you this. No one makes up having severe HG. No one will give herself that label just to feel 'cool' or to make things seem more serious than they were. If she was diagnosed with severe HG, she had severe HG - end of story. You, someone looking in from the outside who has absolutely no clue who she is and what she actually went through, have no right to belittle her suffering and to demand a correction.
It doesn't matter if you yourself are an HG sufferer, if you are a medical professional, if you are random Joe Shmoe off the street. Unless you are this woman or her doctor, you have no right to say anything. The only appropriate response to an article such as hers is "I'm so sorry that you went through that. I will pray that you never go through that again. Now I know about HG and if I come across a woman suffering from it, I know where to send her for information and I better know how to support her."
Clearly the woman who wrote in to the editor knows something about HG because she knows that (in the US) a PICC line is frequently used to treat the worst cases. But she clearly doesn't know enough to shut the hell up and not make a bad situation worse.
So please, think before you open your mouth. Sometimes really stupid things come out.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
"Just get over it already"
I was just downstairs speaking with a relative of N, who is over right now to babysit to that I can get some work done. She so kindly brought over some fish and some soup for us to eat. When I mentioned that I haven't really been into fish since my pregnancy, her response was "just get over it already. Pregnancy is the only way to make babies. You don't have a choice. So just get over it."
Aside from the fact that there are other ways to get children (like surrogacy or adoption), I can't just "get over it". It was a very traumatic experience in many ways and has shaped both my life and my marriage. I can't just throw away an important piece of my personal history because someone thinks I should eat fish. I never liked fish to begin with and only ate it for a few years. I don't miss it.
The fish really isn't the point, though. HG, along with every other serious illness, has long-lasting and long-reaching effects. Just as you wouldn't tell someone who survived cancer to "just get over it" or you wouldn't tell someone who suffered a heart attack to "just get over it", you also can't tell an HG sufferer or survivor to "just get over it".
If you have HG with one pregnancy, then the odds are against you for having subsequent normal pregnancies. I am well aware of this fact. I am hoping and praying for only the best pregnancies in the future, but I am also very aware of the other possibility and am preparing myself accordingly. My doctor agrees with me (and she gave me even slimmer odds of avoiding it in the future than what the HER foundation website provides), so I really don't care what other relatives think of it. Sometimes I just wish that they would shut up and leave me be to do what I need to do without being made to feel guilty for it.
Aside from the fact that there are other ways to get children (like surrogacy or adoption), I can't just "get over it". It was a very traumatic experience in many ways and has shaped both my life and my marriage. I can't just throw away an important piece of my personal history because someone thinks I should eat fish. I never liked fish to begin with and only ate it for a few years. I don't miss it.
The fish really isn't the point, though. HG, along with every other serious illness, has long-lasting and long-reaching effects. Just as you wouldn't tell someone who survived cancer to "just get over it" or you wouldn't tell someone who suffered a heart attack to "just get over it", you also can't tell an HG sufferer or survivor to "just get over it".
If you have HG with one pregnancy, then the odds are against you for having subsequent normal pregnancies. I am well aware of this fact. I am hoping and praying for only the best pregnancies in the future, but I am also very aware of the other possibility and am preparing myself accordingly. My doctor agrees with me (and she gave me even slimmer odds of avoiding it in the future than what the HER foundation website provides), so I really don't care what other relatives think of it. Sometimes I just wish that they would shut up and leave me be to do what I need to do without being made to feel guilty for it.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Mourning pregnancy
I very much mourn my pregnancy. What do you mean? you might ask. You have a happy, healthy child in your arms, and you yourself are happy and healthy. You didn't lose your baby, so what are you mourning?
What do you think of when you think of pregnancy? As the youngest child in my family, I never saw my mother pregnant or had any real contact with pregnant women before becoming one myself. I knew that there are things that go hand-in-hand with being pregnant that make it less than fun. I knew about morning sickness, and heartburn, and backaches, and preterm labor, and gestational diabetes, and high blood pressure, and other various and sundry ailments. I wasn't looking forward to any of that but I knew that it was all normal or within the normal range of complications.
I did not know about HG. It was this terrible monster that reared its head around six weeks in and just wouldn't go away. I didn't understand what was going on and didn't have the strength (physical, emotional, etc.) to find out. I spent months mostly confined to my bed, when my biggest accomplishment was to make it through one more hour, even one more minute without throwing up; when 100 calories was a normal day and 400 was a miracle; when my social life didn't exist because I couldn't even talk much without risking losing what little I had gotten in.
So when a woman says that she's mourning her pregnancy even though she has a healthy babe, it's not that she's mourning something she lost - she's mourning something that was never there. How I wished that my biggest complaint was terrible, debilitating back pain! How I wished that I 'just' had gestational diabetes or high blood pressure or something - anything - that could be controlled.
There are women with HG who have had medical terminations due to the disease. Sometimes they feel that they simply can't handle it, and sometimes the doctors advise them that either they terminate or they risk losing their own lives. I, thankfully, was not put in this situation. But I would never in a million years judge someone who was. Never would I just a woman for terminating her pregnancy due to HG. She would probably beat herself up over it for a long time, though. The effects of HG fade so quickly, but the pain of losing your baby lingers on.
Not only am I mourning those lost months and the lack of normalcy, but I also regret the lack of connection I had to the little person growing inside of me. It is hard to love and bond with a creature that has turned your life into a living hell. Okay, so it was our fault, not hers, but when you're in the middle of things you just know that that tiny little heartbeat is what's causing all this illness and you just want it to end.
Can you imagine that? A perfectly healthy fetus, a very wanted pregnancy, and you just want it to end. You haven't even gotten past the first trimester, you aren't anywhere near viability, and you just want it to end. Everyone wants a baby in their arms at the end of it all, but sometimes that journey is unbearably long. I was bitterly disappointed when I didn't give birth early, and the stress and disappointment nearly crushed me when I wound up delivering nine days late. Even though I was greatly improved by the end, it was still nine extra days of hell.
So my mourning is not, as one insensitive person suggested, coming from a place of me expecting the perfect pregnancy. It is not coming from me comparing myself with others and being jealous (although I do get jealous, at times). I went through a legitimately traumatic and potentially life-threatening event, and I am mourning the normalcy that I should have experienced instead; the connection with my baby that couldn't happen until later.
What do you think of when you think of pregnancy? As the youngest child in my family, I never saw my mother pregnant or had any real contact with pregnant women before becoming one myself. I knew that there are things that go hand-in-hand with being pregnant that make it less than fun. I knew about morning sickness, and heartburn, and backaches, and preterm labor, and gestational diabetes, and high blood pressure, and other various and sundry ailments. I wasn't looking forward to any of that but I knew that it was all normal or within the normal range of complications.
I did not know about HG. It was this terrible monster that reared its head around six weeks in and just wouldn't go away. I didn't understand what was going on and didn't have the strength (physical, emotional, etc.) to find out. I spent months mostly confined to my bed, when my biggest accomplishment was to make it through one more hour, even one more minute without throwing up; when 100 calories was a normal day and 400 was a miracle; when my social life didn't exist because I couldn't even talk much without risking losing what little I had gotten in.
So when a woman says that she's mourning her pregnancy even though she has a healthy babe, it's not that she's mourning something she lost - she's mourning something that was never there. How I wished that my biggest complaint was terrible, debilitating back pain! How I wished that I 'just' had gestational diabetes or high blood pressure or something - anything - that could be controlled.
There are women with HG who have had medical terminations due to the disease. Sometimes they feel that they simply can't handle it, and sometimes the doctors advise them that either they terminate or they risk losing their own lives. I, thankfully, was not put in this situation. But I would never in a million years judge someone who was. Never would I just a woman for terminating her pregnancy due to HG. She would probably beat herself up over it for a long time, though. The effects of HG fade so quickly, but the pain of losing your baby lingers on.
Not only am I mourning those lost months and the lack of normalcy, but I also regret the lack of connection I had to the little person growing inside of me. It is hard to love and bond with a creature that has turned your life into a living hell. Okay, so it was our fault, not hers, but when you're in the middle of things you just know that that tiny little heartbeat is what's causing all this illness and you just want it to end.
Can you imagine that? A perfectly healthy fetus, a very wanted pregnancy, and you just want it to end. You haven't even gotten past the first trimester, you aren't anywhere near viability, and you just want it to end. Everyone wants a baby in their arms at the end of it all, but sometimes that journey is unbearably long. I was bitterly disappointed when I didn't give birth early, and the stress and disappointment nearly crushed me when I wound up delivering nine days late. Even though I was greatly improved by the end, it was still nine extra days of hell.
So my mourning is not, as one insensitive person suggested, coming from a place of me expecting the perfect pregnancy. It is not coming from me comparing myself with others and being jealous (although I do get jealous, at times). I went through a legitimately traumatic and potentially life-threatening event, and I am mourning the normalcy that I should have experienced instead; the connection with my baby that couldn't happen until later.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
A time of need
"A psychologist is someone you see only when you've given up trying to help yourself."
As I mentioned in my first post, my pregnancy really sucked. I had severe hyperemesis from weeks 6-22, when it let up a bit but never fully went away until I gave birth. Pregnancy for me was a very dark time and there were many times when I was on the edge of depression. If it wasn't for the support of my wonderful husband and a handful of close friends, I don't know how I would have gotten through it all.
My physical recovery after the birth went pretty smoothly, overall. I had to eat pretty much constantly to make up for everything I had lost for those nine long months and to keep up my milk supply for the babe and it took me 10 months to gain back all the weight, but there were no serious issues. My psychological recovery is a different question.
I knew that because of the pregnancy complications I was at higher risk to have postpartum depression or other issues so I was on the lookout and told my husband to be, too. After several months I felt that things just weren't right with me, so I was considering going to a psychologist to see what was wrong and fix it. I shared this little tidbit with my friend, and the above quote is what I got back as a response. I was so hurt and angry after that that I closed the door on that discussion with her and proceeded seeking treatment on my own.
I feel like there is a lot of stigma surrounding having any sort of psychological issue, so there are probably many people who go without treatment or do it in secret so that they don't have to deal with what other people think of them. And you know what? That is terrible. Everyone should be able to get the help that they need without anyone making them feel bad about it. The way I see it, you go to a psychologist not when you have given up helping yourself, but when you realize that your problem can be bigger than you and you are reaching out to someone else in order to help yourself better. Does that make sense?
At any rate, post-traumatic stress isn't something where you can just "help yourself" and just get over it (ditto for postpartum depression, although thankfully that wasn't my issue). Most women get PTSD from their births, but I got mine from my pregnancy. My birth was fast and uneventful.
As time goes on, I am slowly coming to terms with everything that happened and accepting it as part of my life story rather than letting it control my life. I can now look at pregnant women without getting sad or anxious; I can eat almost everything (couscous, lasagna, and bean salad are still on my Do Not Touch list); and most importantly, I can think of having more children in the future without entering panic mode and breaking down into tears. Just talking about my horrible experiences all the time has helped me sort of process them and learn to live with them, which is part of what this blog is for - getting my experiences out there in writing so that I can look back and see where I was and how far I've come.
Of course one can never know what future pregnancies will be like, but I am preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. If I have to live through the hell of HG again, then at least I will be prepared physically and mentally as much as is possible.
So have I given up on helping myself? No, and I never did. I was just searching for the missing tools that I needed in order to work things out.
As I mentioned in my first post, my pregnancy really sucked. I had severe hyperemesis from weeks 6-22, when it let up a bit but never fully went away until I gave birth. Pregnancy for me was a very dark time and there were many times when I was on the edge of depression. If it wasn't for the support of my wonderful husband and a handful of close friends, I don't know how I would have gotten through it all.
My physical recovery after the birth went pretty smoothly, overall. I had to eat pretty much constantly to make up for everything I had lost for those nine long months and to keep up my milk supply for the babe and it took me 10 months to gain back all the weight, but there were no serious issues. My psychological recovery is a different question.
I knew that because of the pregnancy complications I was at higher risk to have postpartum depression or other issues so I was on the lookout and told my husband to be, too. After several months I felt that things just weren't right with me, so I was considering going to a psychologist to see what was wrong and fix it. I shared this little tidbit with my friend, and the above quote is what I got back as a response. I was so hurt and angry after that that I closed the door on that discussion with her and proceeded seeking treatment on my own.
I feel like there is a lot of stigma surrounding having any sort of psychological issue, so there are probably many people who go without treatment or do it in secret so that they don't have to deal with what other people think of them. And you know what? That is terrible. Everyone should be able to get the help that they need without anyone making them feel bad about it. The way I see it, you go to a psychologist not when you have given up helping yourself, but when you realize that your problem can be bigger than you and you are reaching out to someone else in order to help yourself better. Does that make sense?
At any rate, post-traumatic stress isn't something where you can just "help yourself" and just get over it (ditto for postpartum depression, although thankfully that wasn't my issue). Most women get PTSD from their births, but I got mine from my pregnancy. My birth was fast and uneventful.
As time goes on, I am slowly coming to terms with everything that happened and accepting it as part of my life story rather than letting it control my life. I can now look at pregnant women without getting sad or anxious; I can eat almost everything (couscous, lasagna, and bean salad are still on my Do Not Touch list); and most importantly, I can think of having more children in the future without entering panic mode and breaking down into tears. Just talking about my horrible experiences all the time has helped me sort of process them and learn to live with them, which is part of what this blog is for - getting my experiences out there in writing so that I can look back and see where I was and how far I've come.
Of course one can never know what future pregnancies will be like, but I am preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. If I have to live through the hell of HG again, then at least I will be prepared physically and mentally as much as is possible.
So have I given up on helping myself? No, and I never did. I was just searching for the missing tools that I needed in order to work things out.
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