Adjustments

I had a bit of an anger problem with my infertility after so many years. I was angry that I had sacrificed so much and had worked so hard only to come out the other end empty handed and broken hearted. Last year, when things started getting really hard, and age 30 was looming over my head, I guess I sort of decided that I would show God what I really thought about what was going on. I was like an angry rebellious teenager. I let so many bad habits back into my life. My obsession with calories led me to start smoking again, and I started consuming large quantities of B12 and caffeine, both to help curb my appetite. For a short while I drank every weekend, but the calorie count quickly snuffed that. I exercised excessively, pushed myself to the edge almost every single day.

Even early on I had some nasty health problems. I cut out all fats and carbs almost overnight. Within four months, I had to have my gallbladder removed and had to have temporary stents because my ducts were blocked. My hair has thinned drastically. I suffered from a lot of little things that could be attributed to malnutrition or vitamin deficiencies. I had cramping muscles, anemia, constipation, and dizziness. My fingers and nails cracked, I bruised easily, my joints ached, and I felt miserable most of the time.

It started simply as a way for me to take back my life. I wanted a family and hubs and I were at an impasse. The only way we could move forward was for me to lose the weight and it made me angry. I felt forced into it and I think that's part of the reason control became such a driving force. There were a lot of other things that contributed, but I know infertility played a big role.

I also know that this pregnancy is an absolute miracle. There are only a couple of people that know how deeply encapsulated I was in my problems. I'm not sure even hubs realizes how bad things had gotten. The idea that a baby could have survived what I was doing amazes me!

It also made me realize how quickly I had to make a 180.

The morning I took the first test, I was about to smoke a cigarette and decided on a whim to test first. That cigarette never got lit. I immediately cut out all caffeine, and I am working very hard to sort out my eating habits. The doctor gave me a goal of 1300-1600 calories a day for the first trimester. My goal is 1000 calories most days. I've done pretty well. I'm actually hovering around 1200 calories a day right now, just because I crave food all the time. I am taking prenatal vitamins, and I have started exercising again, but reasonably with a support system to keep me in check. I am also halfway through the process of weaning myself off of the migraine meds I have clung to for so long. So far, everything is okay, but just okay.

There are a lot of adjustments and they all happened instantly. It overwhelms me to tears sometimes how much I love this little tiny being inside of me and how quickly I knew I would do anything to protect him or her. It was much easier than I expected to quit the caffeine and the smoking, but I had such a drive to keep the baby safe. The food is a work in progress. Most of the time I am okay with it. I get really upset at some point every day. My body is having a hard time processing food again, and there is some bloating and discomfort that I'm pretty sure is exaggerated because of food. I'm sure that this will ease up, but my body will start changing soon and I'm nervous about how that will make me feel. My doctor knows about it though, and I'm sure we can make it work.

On top of it all, there are of course the normal pregnancy symptoms. I usually grin like a fool the moment nausea strikes. I try to indulge in a nap every day to help with the fatigue, and I remind myself often how blessed I am and how thankful I should be. I am scared to complain. I hear so many pregnant people around me complain about aches, pains, going to the bathroom. I just sit quietly and nod my head, acknowledging their discomfort.

I feel afraid to complain. At any moment God could decide that perhaps I'm not really ready for this, or maybe we aren't good parenting candidates after all. I feel like I am walking on eggshells. My closest friends encourage me and tell me how proud they are of my change and progress. I feel like a fraud. I am not strong or brave. I am terrified. The only reason I did these things is because I am so scared of failure. I am afraid someone upstairs will finally realize their error. I don't feel like I deserve this or that I have earned this, yet I cling to this baby with every cell in my body.

No matter the reason, I love this baby. It is forever a part of our family. No matter what happens, this little person has made us a family of three, and I will do absolutely everything in my power to see that we finally have a happy ending.