When your body rejects every type of food that you put into it eventually you will get to a point where even thinking about eating makes your stomach turn. Well I hit that point and thankfully I have also moved past it. Now I am making a list of all the things I am going to eat once this baby is born. This is a long one so here we go.
Taco Bell- Pretty much their whole menu
BBQ Chicken Pizza from Panago or Two guys and a Pizza Place
Bacon and Cheddar Roast Beef with a stuffed Baked Potato from Arby's
Grilled Chicken Burger with extra sauce, A Big Bacon Classic and a Large Frosty from Wendy's
BLT Salad from Rikki's
Burger, Onion Rings and a Chocolate Shake from Peter's Drive In
Baseball steak with a side of Mushrooms from the Keg
Baha Quesadilla's from Moxie's
Boston Brute with extra sauce and Twice Bakes Tortellini from Boston Pizza
Montreal Smoked Meat Sandwich and Poutine from Red Dog Diner
Asian Buffet (Used to be called Treasures of China)
Beef and Chicken Yakisoba from Edo Japan
Strawberry Orange Julius and a Large Cheese Dog from Orange Julius
Chicken Souvlaki with extra tzatziki sauce
Marble Slab Ice Cream
Bourbon Chicken with Corn and Mashed Potato's from Bourbon Street Grill
Extra Hot Extra Carmel Carmel Macchiato
Meatball Sub and a Cold Cut Trio with Extra Black Olives
Four Cheese Lasagna from Costco
Hot Dog, Fries and Gravy from Costco Food Court
Mom's Homemade Fried Chicken with Biscuits, Corn and Warm Spinach Salad
Vietnamese Food
Pot Roast with Mashed Potato's and Yorkshire Pudding, with lots of Gravy
Peanut Butter Parfait and Mint Oreo Blizzard from Dairy Queen
French Toast with Bacon, Sausage and Scrambled Eggs with Cheese from Denny's
Mom's Chocolate Chip Cookies and Double Chocolate Chip Cookies
Cranberry Meatballs
Sweet and Sour Sausages
Mom's Honey Baked Chicken
Ribs from Tony Roma's
Never Ending Pasta Bowl from Olive Garden
Chocolate Lava Cake
Chicken Wings
That's all I can think of right now but I know that I will be continually adding to this list. I'm sure in the new year I am going to throw one big food party so everyone can celebrate my ability to enjoy food again.
The Neesons
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Filling the seats
Take a moment and think of a playground slide, one of those ones that are tall and spiral down. Now imagine there is a person at the top of the slide with a water hose spraying the slide, and you are at the bottom trying to climb up it. What happens? Well with every step you slip, sometimes you can catch yourself and only stumble a couple of steps, sometimes you fall completely and end up right back down at the bottom.
This pregnancy journey has been like that slide. There are times when I think I have made progress and things are going good, only to have a blood test/ultra sound/ medication reaction, that brings me right back down that slide again. And to be honest there are times when I just sit at the bottom of that slide because I don't have the strength to start climbing. It is during these times that the people supporting me are the ones who help me find the strength, or encouragement that I need to take that first step.
As I am sitting here I am thinking about the people not that have been there for me, but the ones who haven't and in my opinion should be.
When I first was admitted to the hospital I was knocking at deaths door. I wasn't just standing there on his doorstep, I was banging my fists for him to let me in. Right away there were people surrounding me and my family, ready to turn their lives upside down so that they could help in anyway possible. We had people bring meals for my husband, and still bring meals. People who were there visiting, calling, sending cards and flowers, gifts, anything they could do to let us know that they loved us and were praying for all of us. Then there were people that didn't even show up at all, in any way, and I can't wrap my head around why.
I have gone through all the excuses in my head, things like some people can't be around the sick. Trust me I know that I make others uncomfortable. People don't really know what to say other than "How are you feeling," which really is kind of a stupid question when you're laying in a hospital bed with five different IV bags running into you. But, with today's technology there are so many ways to get in contact with someone to let them know they are loved, thought about, and prayed for with out even having to see them or even talk to them. Yet still....nothing.
I guess the biggest thing that bothers me is the fact that I was so close to death, the closest I have ever been in my entire life. And, to be honest at any point God could still take me away, as quickly as this baby comes He could call me home. A terrible thought but a completely honest one. My point is this. At my funeral, there these people would be sitting, eyes filled with tears saying how they couldn't believe that I was gone, and why did this have to happen, and yet they took no time to love or care about me when I was alive. That thought makes me angry. Really angry.
Then there is the positive side that this baby will come and both he/she and I will both be healthy and happy. Well again there those same people are, ready to celebrate the birth of this baby and tell he/she how much they love them. But why is it that you only care after the baby is born? Isn't loving someone being there to support them when things are good and when they are bad? Why is it that I only get to matter after all the tough times are over, or is it that really I don't matter at all and only the baby does? Again, this makes me Really angry.
So my end thought or question really is this. During times of complete struggle or sickness in this case a person will truly find out who their real friends and family are. I found out that there are some people in my life that are "fillers". They are just there to fill the seats in the theater of my life and really only make the place appear to be more full. So, do I really actually need them there, or should I just take this experience as a learning one and move on in my life with only the people who really came to see the show?
It's ok....I know the answer.
This pregnancy journey has been like that slide. There are times when I think I have made progress and things are going good, only to have a blood test/ultra sound/ medication reaction, that brings me right back down that slide again. And to be honest there are times when I just sit at the bottom of that slide because I don't have the strength to start climbing. It is during these times that the people supporting me are the ones who help me find the strength, or encouragement that I need to take that first step.
As I am sitting here I am thinking about the people not that have been there for me, but the ones who haven't and in my opinion should be.
When I first was admitted to the hospital I was knocking at deaths door. I wasn't just standing there on his doorstep, I was banging my fists for him to let me in. Right away there were people surrounding me and my family, ready to turn their lives upside down so that they could help in anyway possible. We had people bring meals for my husband, and still bring meals. People who were there visiting, calling, sending cards and flowers, gifts, anything they could do to let us know that they loved us and were praying for all of us. Then there were people that didn't even show up at all, in any way, and I can't wrap my head around why.
I have gone through all the excuses in my head, things like some people can't be around the sick. Trust me I know that I make others uncomfortable. People don't really know what to say other than "How are you feeling," which really is kind of a stupid question when you're laying in a hospital bed with five different IV bags running into you. But, with today's technology there are so many ways to get in contact with someone to let them know they are loved, thought about, and prayed for with out even having to see them or even talk to them. Yet still....nothing.
I guess the biggest thing that bothers me is the fact that I was so close to death, the closest I have ever been in my entire life. And, to be honest at any point God could still take me away, as quickly as this baby comes He could call me home. A terrible thought but a completely honest one. My point is this. At my funeral, there these people would be sitting, eyes filled with tears saying how they couldn't believe that I was gone, and why did this have to happen, and yet they took no time to love or care about me when I was alive. That thought makes me angry. Really angry.
Then there is the positive side that this baby will come and both he/she and I will both be healthy and happy. Well again there those same people are, ready to celebrate the birth of this baby and tell he/she how much they love them. But why is it that you only care after the baby is born? Isn't loving someone being there to support them when things are good and when they are bad? Why is it that I only get to matter after all the tough times are over, or is it that really I don't matter at all and only the baby does? Again, this makes me Really angry.
So my end thought or question really is this. During times of complete struggle or sickness in this case a person will truly find out who their real friends and family are. I found out that there are some people in my life that are "fillers". They are just there to fill the seats in the theater of my life and really only make the place appear to be more full. So, do I really actually need them there, or should I just take this experience as a learning one and move on in my life with only the people who really came to see the show?
It's ok....I know the answer.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Let's get real
In the last few posts you may have noticed that I still have a sense of humor and part of me is still trying to be positive. Well, after hearing the phrase "I know how you feel," only about a thousand times I would like to say for the record that NO, you don't know how I feel. Some day's I'm not even sure exactly how I feel but this post is going to be about as real as I can get. Please understand that I am not looking for sympathy or words of encouragement, I just want people to take a moment and get a small idea of what I am actually going through.
First things first physically I am nauseous and exhausted. Now if you are thinking that these symptoms shouldn't really be all that bad then you have never been nauseous in your life. When I say I feel sick, I mean that I feel my stomach turning, acid building up and waves of nausea over taking every part of my being every single day and usually it's pretty much all day. It's like having food poisoning everyday, when all your body wants to do is get rid of every possible thing inside of it and more.
I can't eat anything and by anything I mean right now I can barley handle the few sips of water I use to take my medication with. Trust me I have tried to eat, everything from crackers to plain bread to things like broth that you don't even have to chew. Each time something goes in my mouth my body rejects it faster than I think. My record lately has been 10 minutes for keeping something down and that was me struggling and gaging the whole time doing everything I could not to throw up.
It's not just eating that makes me sick, in fact I get sick everyday two or three times just because of the acid that is in my stomach. When I am sick my it's like my body doesn't know when to stop purging itself because I keep going until I have gotten rid of all the acid, flem and then just nothing until my stomach hurts so much that it is too painful to keep going. My eyes are bloodshot and I have broken blood vessels in my face because of all the pressure. I am exhausted because I have nothing going into me and being as sick as I am my body uses every bit of energy it has to take care of this baby and to throw up.
Emotionally it's harder to explain.
Firstly I feel like a failure as a mother and a wife. I should be at home taking care of my son and my husband making them meals, caring for them and teaching my son new things and helping him grow. I can't even walk as far as the door let alone make a meal for anyone or give my son a bath. In fact I'm not even strong enough to lift my son up to give him a hug, how can I not feel like a horrible mother. On top of this I feel like I can't even take care of my unborn child and give it everything it needs to be healthy and survive. I know that I am doing everything that I can but I also know that it's not enough. With out these medications and IV's I would have lost this baby a long time ago. I am no good at being pregnant and I hate it.
I feel guilty for so many things. For Shamus I took everything away from him before he could even blink. He use to come home every night to a wife and son who love him and now because of me he only gets to see his family once a week. I took his life away from him and it will be months before he can have that back. I feel guilty that I have put this strain on our marriage and for a better part of a year we will be doing this long distance. I love it when Shamus comes to visit and I get to spend those moments together but when he leaves the guilt comes and I know that he goes home lonely because of me.
I feel guilty that I can't bond with this baby because I don't even feel pregnant most of the time. Physically I show no real signs of pregnancy, in fact I hardly recognize myself in the mirror. My skin is bleach white, my arms and legs feel like tooth picks and even my hair has started to fall out. There have been times when I look at my family and I can see the worry or fear in their eyes because I look literally like death.
I feel guilty that I hate being pregnant and that what I want is for this to all be over so that I never have to go through this again. In my head I can hardly believe that these words have actually come out of my mouth. What kind of mother actually says that she never wants to get pregnant again. You hear about all these women who love being pregnant, they are glowing. I am not one of these women, there is no part of me that comes any where close to that and this may sound stupid but I am so angry that this idea of happy pregnancies is the standard that women are expected to live up to and because I don't, internally I feel like I am doing something wrong.
Then there are all the mean and hurtful things that people say when they think they are trying to help. Things like, " You should be happy that you are pregnant because there are some women that can't get pregnant at all." You know what... I don't care and I shouldn't have to care. Just because there are other women that are not able to conceive does not make my situation any better. Why am I chastised for feeling crappy and being upset and frustrated just because someone you know can't get pregnant. Is that really suppose to make me feel better because I rip myself apart enough every day for all the things that I think I am doing wrong, REALLY I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP.
There are those people that ask, "Have the doctors given you the option to abort the baby yet?" Really, this is you helping? I know that if I really wanted to I could make this all go away super fast but it would never be worth it. For the rest of my life I would know that I took away a child's life all because I didn't want to throw up anymore. No I am not going to abort this baby and in no way should I feel stupid for wanting it but when you ask me that's how you make me feel. I should be furious with the people that have brought this up but to be honest most times I just sit here questioning why they don't love or want this baby the way I do. When they hold this baby for the first time and tell he/she that they love them, how am I not suppose to resent that because they didn't want this baby in the first place.
So there you go, there is a small window into what I actually feel and to be honest it's a very small window. Again I did not write this so that others would try to "fix" my feelings or tell me in anyway that I am wrong in feeling the way that I do. Emotions are very personal things and no one is wrong for feeling certain things. For the most part I just want others to take a moment and look deeper into the heart of someone dealing with Hyperemisis.
First things first physically I am nauseous and exhausted. Now if you are thinking that these symptoms shouldn't really be all that bad then you have never been nauseous in your life. When I say I feel sick, I mean that I feel my stomach turning, acid building up and waves of nausea over taking every part of my being every single day and usually it's pretty much all day. It's like having food poisoning everyday, when all your body wants to do is get rid of every possible thing inside of it and more.
I can't eat anything and by anything I mean right now I can barley handle the few sips of water I use to take my medication with. Trust me I have tried to eat, everything from crackers to plain bread to things like broth that you don't even have to chew. Each time something goes in my mouth my body rejects it faster than I think. My record lately has been 10 minutes for keeping something down and that was me struggling and gaging the whole time doing everything I could not to throw up.
It's not just eating that makes me sick, in fact I get sick everyday two or three times just because of the acid that is in my stomach. When I am sick my it's like my body doesn't know when to stop purging itself because I keep going until I have gotten rid of all the acid, flem and then just nothing until my stomach hurts so much that it is too painful to keep going. My eyes are bloodshot and I have broken blood vessels in my face because of all the pressure. I am exhausted because I have nothing going into me and being as sick as I am my body uses every bit of energy it has to take care of this baby and to throw up.
Emotionally it's harder to explain.
Firstly I feel like a failure as a mother and a wife. I should be at home taking care of my son and my husband making them meals, caring for them and teaching my son new things and helping him grow. I can't even walk as far as the door let alone make a meal for anyone or give my son a bath. In fact I'm not even strong enough to lift my son up to give him a hug, how can I not feel like a horrible mother. On top of this I feel like I can't even take care of my unborn child and give it everything it needs to be healthy and survive. I know that I am doing everything that I can but I also know that it's not enough. With out these medications and IV's I would have lost this baby a long time ago. I am no good at being pregnant and I hate it.
I feel guilty for so many things. For Shamus I took everything away from him before he could even blink. He use to come home every night to a wife and son who love him and now because of me he only gets to see his family once a week. I took his life away from him and it will be months before he can have that back. I feel guilty that I have put this strain on our marriage and for a better part of a year we will be doing this long distance. I love it when Shamus comes to visit and I get to spend those moments together but when he leaves the guilt comes and I know that he goes home lonely because of me.
I feel guilty that I can't bond with this baby because I don't even feel pregnant most of the time. Physically I show no real signs of pregnancy, in fact I hardly recognize myself in the mirror. My skin is bleach white, my arms and legs feel like tooth picks and even my hair has started to fall out. There have been times when I look at my family and I can see the worry or fear in their eyes because I look literally like death.
I feel guilty that I hate being pregnant and that what I want is for this to all be over so that I never have to go through this again. In my head I can hardly believe that these words have actually come out of my mouth. What kind of mother actually says that she never wants to get pregnant again. You hear about all these women who love being pregnant, they are glowing. I am not one of these women, there is no part of me that comes any where close to that and this may sound stupid but I am so angry that this idea of happy pregnancies is the standard that women are expected to live up to and because I don't, internally I feel like I am doing something wrong.
Then there are all the mean and hurtful things that people say when they think they are trying to help. Things like, " You should be happy that you are pregnant because there are some women that can't get pregnant at all." You know what... I don't care and I shouldn't have to care. Just because there are other women that are not able to conceive does not make my situation any better. Why am I chastised for feeling crappy and being upset and frustrated just because someone you know can't get pregnant. Is that really suppose to make me feel better because I rip myself apart enough every day for all the things that I think I am doing wrong, REALLY I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP.
There are those people that ask, "Have the doctors given you the option to abort the baby yet?" Really, this is you helping? I know that if I really wanted to I could make this all go away super fast but it would never be worth it. For the rest of my life I would know that I took away a child's life all because I didn't want to throw up anymore. No I am not going to abort this baby and in no way should I feel stupid for wanting it but when you ask me that's how you make me feel. I should be furious with the people that have brought this up but to be honest most times I just sit here questioning why they don't love or want this baby the way I do. When they hold this baby for the first time and tell he/she that they love them, how am I not suppose to resent that because they didn't want this baby in the first place.
So there you go, there is a small window into what I actually feel and to be honest it's a very small window. Again I did not write this so that others would try to "fix" my feelings or tell me in anyway that I am wrong in feeling the way that I do. Emotions are very personal things and no one is wrong for feeling certain things. For the most part I just want others to take a moment and look deeper into the heart of someone dealing with Hyperemisis.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Yes, No and....Are you serious?
Well after being in the hospital for some time now you have your usual nurses that know you and know basically what is happening in your day to day life. It's every few days that you get a new nurse or a nursing student that comes in and for some reason feel that they know more than you do and that they can solve or cure you within their shift. Let me tell you something, if this could be cured in a six hour period do you not think I would be better by now?
So with the new nurses you get asked all the same questions that I have been asked probably at least 50 times now. Every time they ask they always seem surprised at the answers so I thought that maybe I would let you all in on my day to day physical condition and perhaps I will print out this answers list so I can just hand it to a new nurse when they come in.
Q) How are you feeling?
A) Nauseous, Exhausted
Q) Is the nausea better or worse then before?
A) It is never better, there are days when it is worse but no I ALWAYS feel nauseous
Q) How often are you sick?
A) Every day. I literally throw up at least two to three times every day.
Q) When was the last time you ate something?
A) Two to three months ago
Q) Have you tried eating dry foods, small amounts of food, crackers, etc...?
A) Seriously? Do you not think that by now I would have tried everything possible to keep something down? Yes I have tried everything you could possibly think of.
Q) Do you feel hungry?
A) No I have no desire to eat or drink anything
Q) Are the medications helping?
A) They make the nausea tolerable but never take it away completely.
Q) Are your legs or feet swollen?
A) No. ( One nurse actually told me that I was lucky when I said no. I think we have different view points on what a rough pregnancy actually is)
Q) Are you sleeping?
A) Yes but not through the night. I wake up four or five times every night and no sleeping pills don't help.
That's pretty much everything that I can remember them asking within the first five minutes of them walking in the room. On top of that they take vitals, listen to your heart and lungs and check you over for anything they think may be out of the ordinary.
The "Are you serious," question was asked by one of the OBGYN doctors that I saw. The first time I ever met him he walked in my room sat on a chair and asked me flat out, " Are you sure you want to continue with this pregnancy?"
I think I was in shock when he asked this. Do I want to continue with this pregnancy? Are you serious? Of course I want to continue, I love this baby. It amazed me that this would even be asked but then I thought, this is obviously asked because there are women out there that choose not to have their babies. In my mind, heart and well every piece of me knows that God gave Shamus and I this baby and it is up to Him when he/she is born and when He will call them home.
God gives us moments in life to test our faith in Him and some of these moments are easier to face then others. I know that He wants me to be going through this experience to grow and learn from it but I also know that my faith is strong in the fact that He is in charge of this baby and His plan is bigger than any doctors.
So with the new nurses you get asked all the same questions that I have been asked probably at least 50 times now. Every time they ask they always seem surprised at the answers so I thought that maybe I would let you all in on my day to day physical condition and perhaps I will print out this answers list so I can just hand it to a new nurse when they come in.
Q) How are you feeling?
A) Nauseous, Exhausted
Q) Is the nausea better or worse then before?
A) It is never better, there are days when it is worse but no I ALWAYS feel nauseous
Q) How often are you sick?
A) Every day. I literally throw up at least two to three times every day.
Q) When was the last time you ate something?
A) Two to three months ago
Q) Have you tried eating dry foods, small amounts of food, crackers, etc...?
A) Seriously? Do you not think that by now I would have tried everything possible to keep something down? Yes I have tried everything you could possibly think of.
Q) Do you feel hungry?
A) No I have no desire to eat or drink anything
Q) Are the medications helping?
A) They make the nausea tolerable but never take it away completely.
Q) Are your legs or feet swollen?
A) No. ( One nurse actually told me that I was lucky when I said no. I think we have different view points on what a rough pregnancy actually is)
Q) Are you sleeping?
A) Yes but not through the night. I wake up four or five times every night and no sleeping pills don't help.
That's pretty much everything that I can remember them asking within the first five minutes of them walking in the room. On top of that they take vitals, listen to your heart and lungs and check you over for anything they think may be out of the ordinary.
The "Are you serious," question was asked by one of the OBGYN doctors that I saw. The first time I ever met him he walked in my room sat on a chair and asked me flat out, " Are you sure you want to continue with this pregnancy?"
I think I was in shock when he asked this. Do I want to continue with this pregnancy? Are you serious? Of course I want to continue, I love this baby. It amazed me that this would even be asked but then I thought, this is obviously asked because there are women out there that choose not to have their babies. In my mind, heart and well every piece of me knows that God gave Shamus and I this baby and it is up to Him when he/she is born and when He will call them home.
God gives us moments in life to test our faith in Him and some of these moments are easier to face then others. I know that He wants me to be going through this experience to grow and learn from it but I also know that my faith is strong in the fact that He is in charge of this baby and His plan is bigger than any doctors.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Visitors
So after being in the hospital for some time now there have been lots of people who have come to visit and keep me company. I get my wonderful husband that comes every night and takes me on a date. This consists of walking the hospital and sitting together just talking about our days or how we are feeling. There are my parents and the cutest little red headed boy named Toryn who all come on the weekends. This is great because I get to watch my son run and play, I get to see how big he has gotten and, he gets to show me all the new things he has learned. My parents are great and I could never thank them enough for everything that they have done for us. There are friends that come on their lunch hours to distract me from how lonely I am and, they keep me involved in what is happening in the "outside world". Then there are the visitors that come late at night just to watch over me.
Warning-- If you are like my brother and the thought of ghosts or spirits or angels freak you out, you may not want to continue reading.
So there I was one night alone in a dark hospital room and trying to fall asleep when I got this feeling that there was someone else in the room with me. After opening my eyes and realizing that there was not a nurse standing beside me I began to scan the room when there at the foot of my bed was this shadowy figure. Normally a dark shadowed figure standing over you would freak any person out but this figure was different. Even though I couldn't make out any distinctive features about this "person", I knew with every part of my being that it was my Great Gramma Maude Shuart. Now if you're asking how I knew well I can't really explain it other than your heart just knows.
When I told my parents the next day about Gramma visiting me, neither one of them were disturbed or surprised by the visit. In our family we have had a ghost named George follow us for as long as I can remember so a visit from a family member like Gramma is more of a comforting thought then anything else. In fact it would be weird if she didn't come to visit.
Well it wasn't too long after the evening visit that I had someone else come to check in on me. This visitor however was a little more hard to explain. Again while I was laying in bed alone one night I had the same feeling that someone else was in the room again. Right away I knew that it was not my Great Gramma and the feeling that I had was more of an uneasy one. In my mind I knew that there was someone there but I also knew that I did not know this person and that's when I started to become scared. Just as the fear started to build up inside of me God truly spoke right into my heart. Literally it was like I could actually hear the words being spoken inside of me. "Don't be scared," He said. " You do not know this person but they know you and they are suppose to be here." Just like that I was instantly calm and anytime that I started to feel uneasy, God would speak these words right into my heart again.
There have been a few other times where God would send an angel to watch over me or hold me when He knew I needed that extra support and every time I am comforted by the thought that He is watching over me. God's hands are big enough to hold the whole world but sometimes it feels like He puts everything aside to just hold me and Baby Bear to make sure we're ok.
Warning-- If you are like my brother and the thought of ghosts or spirits or angels freak you out, you may not want to continue reading.
So there I was one night alone in a dark hospital room and trying to fall asleep when I got this feeling that there was someone else in the room with me. After opening my eyes and realizing that there was not a nurse standing beside me I began to scan the room when there at the foot of my bed was this shadowy figure. Normally a dark shadowed figure standing over you would freak any person out but this figure was different. Even though I couldn't make out any distinctive features about this "person", I knew with every part of my being that it was my Great Gramma Maude Shuart. Now if you're asking how I knew well I can't really explain it other than your heart just knows.
When I told my parents the next day about Gramma visiting me, neither one of them were disturbed or surprised by the visit. In our family we have had a ghost named George follow us for as long as I can remember so a visit from a family member like Gramma is more of a comforting thought then anything else. In fact it would be weird if she didn't come to visit.
Well it wasn't too long after the evening visit that I had someone else come to check in on me. This visitor however was a little more hard to explain. Again while I was laying in bed alone one night I had the same feeling that someone else was in the room again. Right away I knew that it was not my Great Gramma and the feeling that I had was more of an uneasy one. In my mind I knew that there was someone there but I also knew that I did not know this person and that's when I started to become scared. Just as the fear started to build up inside of me God truly spoke right into my heart. Literally it was like I could actually hear the words being spoken inside of me. "Don't be scared," He said. " You do not know this person but they know you and they are suppose to be here." Just like that I was instantly calm and anytime that I started to feel uneasy, God would speak these words right into my heart again.
There have been a few other times where God would send an angel to watch over me or hold me when He knew I needed that extra support and every time I am comforted by the thought that He is watching over me. God's hands are big enough to hold the whole world but sometimes it feels like He puts everything aside to just hold me and Baby Bear to make sure we're ok.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Marge
So I guess every woman in Lethbridge and surrounding area decided to get pregnant in September because over 25 people have had babies in the last 48 hours. What does that mean to me you ask, well that means that I move from my private room on the woman's health ward where I had amazing nurses and a private bathroom to a shared room in God's waiting room.
I know the phrase God's waiting room is kind of rude but seriously I am on the palliative care ward where everyone here has kids older than I am and are at the age in their life where from here they either go into nursing homes or funeral homes.
So here I am in this room who I now share with Marge. Now I know that I wrote before about my lack of sleep in my old room but Marge makes sleep a privilege I get to experience for maybe three hours a night. This woman is on more medication in one day than I have probably taken in my whole life combined and, because of this she needs to have her vitals checked every hour. Day or night the nurse comes in, wakes her up and me in return. Marge also needs help to the bathroom every two to three hours. Now this is not so bad, I mean I feel for someone who is not able to walk on their own. What I don't like is the fact that they have now started bringing a chair to her bed side that she can go to the bathroom in. As much as I know you don't move well Marge, I really don't like knowing or hearing you go to the bathroom two feet away from me and the only thing separating us is an ugly yellow curtain that is as thin as a bed sheet.
So that's every hour to two hours day and night and to add to the list, when Marge is awake she moans and when she sleeps she snores. She snores louder than a bear in hibernation plus she keeps the temperature in the room so hot you'd think she was hypothermic or something.
Maybe the doctors put me in here with Marge to test my breaking point. Maybe they are hoping that this is the push I need to start eating and get me home.
I know the phrase God's waiting room is kind of rude but seriously I am on the palliative care ward where everyone here has kids older than I am and are at the age in their life where from here they either go into nursing homes or funeral homes.
So here I am in this room who I now share with Marge. Now I know that I wrote before about my lack of sleep in my old room but Marge makes sleep a privilege I get to experience for maybe three hours a night. This woman is on more medication in one day than I have probably taken in my whole life combined and, because of this she needs to have her vitals checked every hour. Day or night the nurse comes in, wakes her up and me in return. Marge also needs help to the bathroom every two to three hours. Now this is not so bad, I mean I feel for someone who is not able to walk on their own. What I don't like is the fact that they have now started bringing a chair to her bed side that she can go to the bathroom in. As much as I know you don't move well Marge, I really don't like knowing or hearing you go to the bathroom two feet away from me and the only thing separating us is an ugly yellow curtain that is as thin as a bed sheet.
So that's every hour to two hours day and night and to add to the list, when Marge is awake she moans and when she sleeps she snores. She snores louder than a bear in hibernation plus she keeps the temperature in the room so hot you'd think she was hypothermic or something.
Maybe the doctors put me in here with Marge to test my breaking point. Maybe they are hoping that this is the push I need to start eating and get me home.
Picc in my side
After a week, five different iv sites and having my veins so irritated and raw that I am literally screaming in pain the doctors decided to put a picc line in. Now picc stands for Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter, but I like to refer to it as my Personal Instrument for Causing Confusion. Basically it is a tube that runs through a vain from my upper arm to my heart. I told Shamus he could have saved time on dating me because apparently this picc line was the key to my heart.
From this line there are two separate lines that attach to this picc, one for my food bad and the other is for saline and medications. Every night they have to change the tubing for the line that gives me food, and every night it takes at least two nurses to figure out what goes where. I know that eventually I will grow tired of watching them struggle with this complex system of tubes and pumps but right now it's kind of amusing.
The real show is actually when they have to do the dressing change on the site. Anywhere from three to five nurses come in with this big binder full of instructions and step by step they read as I lay there and watch them change the site. It feels like they are back in school and I am their practise patient.
Thing have gotten to a point where if my IV pump starts beeping I know how to fix the problem and what buttons to push. I know the rate and volume of every bag that gets hooked up and soon I'm sure the nurses could just leave the items for the tube change and I could do it myself. Now if I could only learn how to keep food down...one thing at a time I guess.
From this line there are two separate lines that attach to this picc, one for my food bad and the other is for saline and medications. Every night they have to change the tubing for the line that gives me food, and every night it takes at least two nurses to figure out what goes where. I know that eventually I will grow tired of watching them struggle with this complex system of tubes and pumps but right now it's kind of amusing.
The real show is actually when they have to do the dressing change on the site. Anywhere from three to five nurses come in with this big binder full of instructions and step by step they read as I lay there and watch them change the site. It feels like they are back in school and I am their practise patient.
Thing have gotten to a point where if my IV pump starts beeping I know how to fix the problem and what buttons to push. I know the rate and volume of every bag that gets hooked up and soon I'm sure the nurses could just leave the items for the tube change and I could do it myself. Now if I could only learn how to keep food down...one thing at a time I guess.
Well I guess He's listening
In life sometimes we can get so caught up in all the day to day stuff and forget that we are walking down a path that God has designed for us. It is not until we find ourselves feeling lost in out struggles that we question if God is really watching over us and if He has a plan. It's strange really, I don't think I have ever questioned God's plan for me when things have been going well.
Today was a one of those days where I woke up feeling defeated. You have to understand that this experience is not only hard physically but mentally and emotionally as well. I also know that this will get better and the best place for me to be right now is in the hospital. However, after months of throwing up absolutely everything, feeling nauseous all the time, being pumped full of medications and having your arms be bruised so bad from needles you start to look like drug addict, you are bound to have days where you feel swallowed by the darkness that is this illness. So with that in mind, that is how I am feeling today.
Now most of us have been told that God answers prayers in His own time and in His own way, but isn't it amazing when He answers them even before we ever really pray.
So here I am in bed looking at yet another meal that I can't eat and things start to hit me all at once from every direction. I realized how tired and nausea's I am and how "sick" I am of feeling this way. I am lonely and miss being home with my Toryn, knowing exactly which cartoon we would be watching together. I miss Shamus coming home from work and us eating dinner together and having alone time. All in all I just hit a wall and I want to go home.
Well it was at that point that God knew that I needed something to lift my spirits. So...in walked my doctor with a Doppler machine. She told me that she had a feeling that today would be a good day to check the heartbeat. After a few minutes of searching and held breath there it was. This tiny fast 172 beats per minute sound that made everything that was wrong disappear.
Yes the first eleven weeks have been the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. Yes there is the very real possibility that I will be sick for the rest of the pregnancy, but when you hear that heartbeat and remember who you are doing this for it makes it all worth it. Even though this baby is only the size of a kidney bean it is still bigger than I am.
Today was a one of those days where I woke up feeling defeated. You have to understand that this experience is not only hard physically but mentally and emotionally as well. I also know that this will get better and the best place for me to be right now is in the hospital. However, after months of throwing up absolutely everything, feeling nauseous all the time, being pumped full of medications and having your arms be bruised so bad from needles you start to look like drug addict, you are bound to have days where you feel swallowed by the darkness that is this illness. So with that in mind, that is how I am feeling today.
Now most of us have been told that God answers prayers in His own time and in His own way, but isn't it amazing when He answers them even before we ever really pray.
So here I am in bed looking at yet another meal that I can't eat and things start to hit me all at once from every direction. I realized how tired and nausea's I am and how "sick" I am of feeling this way. I am lonely and miss being home with my Toryn, knowing exactly which cartoon we would be watching together. I miss Shamus coming home from work and us eating dinner together and having alone time. All in all I just hit a wall and I want to go home.
Well it was at that point that God knew that I needed something to lift my spirits. So...in walked my doctor with a Doppler machine. She told me that she had a feeling that today would be a good day to check the heartbeat. After a few minutes of searching and held breath there it was. This tiny fast 172 beats per minute sound that made everything that was wrong disappear.
Yes the first eleven weeks have been the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. Yes there is the very real possibility that I will be sick for the rest of the pregnancy, but when you hear that heartbeat and remember who you are doing this for it makes it all worth it. Even though this baby is only the size of a kidney bean it is still bigger than I am.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Sleep
You know how doctors do those studies to show how long the average teenager or adult sleeps during the night and the effects it has on their health. Well I think they should do one for the average hospital patient because I am sure it would be less than the average adult.
When I was first admitted to the hospital the doctors tell you to rest so that your body along with the medication can work and get better. Who knew that resting and getting sleep in a hospital can be next to impossible. After twelve days of being here I have only slept through the night once. Now take a moment and think about this; If you were in good health and started not sleeping more than four hours a night, eventually your body would get sick. So what happens when you are already sick and then not sleeping? How will your body ever recover?
Now I know you are probably thinking in a hospital there are always beeps going off from the machines, the beds are not the most comfortable and usually people can't sleep because they are in a strange environment. Well I disagree. Yes my hospital bed is no memory foam mattress but I can usually find a position that I am comfortable in. As for the machines I actually find the soft pumping noise of my IV soothing and somewhat relaxing. So after some careful thought I finally figured out why I was not sleeping, it's my schedule.
Now you would think that a person in the hospital wouldn't have a lot going on but you would be wrong. In fact I have less time to myself and am more busy here then outside the hospital.
6am- Weighed, Vitals and Meds
7am- Blood Tests
8am- Breakfast
9am- Vitals
10am- Meds
11am- Meds
12pm- Lunch
2pm- Meds and Vitals
4pm- Meds
5pm- Dinner
6pm- Picc Line Change
9pm- Meds and Vitals
10pm- Meds
2am- Meds
That is a lot of stuff going on and in those days they do blood sugar tests, ultra sounds if need be and, you also have visitors. At one point the doctors put me on a sleeping pill which didn't make me sleep any better it just made me groggy the next day.
I think when I finally do get to go home I am going to need a vacation just so I can relax and do nothing.
When I was first admitted to the hospital the doctors tell you to rest so that your body along with the medication can work and get better. Who knew that resting and getting sleep in a hospital can be next to impossible. After twelve days of being here I have only slept through the night once. Now take a moment and think about this; If you were in good health and started not sleeping more than four hours a night, eventually your body would get sick. So what happens when you are already sick and then not sleeping? How will your body ever recover?
Now I know you are probably thinking in a hospital there are always beeps going off from the machines, the beds are not the most comfortable and usually people can't sleep because they are in a strange environment. Well I disagree. Yes my hospital bed is no memory foam mattress but I can usually find a position that I am comfortable in. As for the machines I actually find the soft pumping noise of my IV soothing and somewhat relaxing. So after some careful thought I finally figured out why I was not sleeping, it's my schedule.
Now you would think that a person in the hospital wouldn't have a lot going on but you would be wrong. In fact I have less time to myself and am more busy here then outside the hospital.
6am- Weighed, Vitals and Meds
7am- Blood Tests
8am- Breakfast
9am- Vitals
10am- Meds
11am- Meds
12pm- Lunch
2pm- Meds and Vitals
4pm- Meds
5pm- Dinner
6pm- Picc Line Change
9pm- Meds and Vitals
10pm- Meds
2am- Meds
That is a lot of stuff going on and in those days they do blood sugar tests, ultra sounds if need be and, you also have visitors. At one point the doctors put me on a sleeping pill which didn't make me sleep any better it just made me groggy the next day.
I think when I finally do get to go home I am going to need a vacation just so I can relax and do nothing.
312
I know that I am a short tempered, fiery, stubborn, "I can do this" type of person who does not give up on things quickly or easily, and I have these traits for good reason. So getting to the point where I am sitting in a hospital room took maybe more than it should have.
After finding out that we were expecting for a second time, we all knew that I was going to be sick. With Toryn I was sick right up until he was born. In fact I was throwing up three days before I had him and at that point my water had already broken. Having morning sickness was an understatement, keep the path to the bathroom free and clear I was about to become very sick.
Things started pretty much the same way they did with Toryn only this time I noticed that I was sick sooner. By four and a half weeks I was starting to show and throwing up, not everything but enough that I noticed it. By five and a half weeks my list of foods that I could not eat was so long that it was a struggle to find something that my body could handle. Around this time I had become so ill that I was throwing up stomach acid and, if there was really nothing in my stomach I would just dry heave. This is probably the worst because dry heaving kills all your stomach muscles. It would get so bad that I would eat anything just so I had something to throw up.
So there I am one night at work rushing to the bathroom yet again and this time I am throwing up blood. Having never had this happen before, in a mad panic I drive my bawling eyed self to the only walk-in clinic that I know to get checked. Doctor says everything is fine and gave me some meds that "should" help with nausea. Should is the operative word here.
Now in my seventh week I am still throwing up everything and nothing but, I have my first appointment with my OBGYN. By this time I have lost just over 20 pounds but not freaking out because I did the same thing with Toryn. My doctor gives me the full check up and a new prescription. She also informs me that I will most likely follow the same path as I did with Toryn and be sick the whole time. Feeling slightly disappointed that the statement "It's easier the second time around," would not apply to me, we left the office planning to come back in a month for the heartbeat appointment.
Well two weeks go by and I seem to get worse. I am at the point where nothing stays down not even liquid, I am afraid to even swallow most times because that is enough liquid to make my stomach turn. At this point I have more than a handful of people telling me to go to the hospital.
So off we go to the ER and before I know it I am being pumped full of liquids and having an ultra sound done. After four hours the baby is fine and I was just really dehydrated. We went home with yet another new prescription hoping that maybe this one would work better than the others.
The next day I was back in the ER with horrible stomach pains, so this time they pumped me full of liquids and meds and kept me over night. The next morning they did another ultra sound, said that everything still looked good and sent me home with a new $700 prescription. By this time my mom had come down to help with Toryn and with things around the house. I spent the next day at home laying on the couch trying to handle a tsp of liquid every two hours which, I was still throwing up.
By that night I was so exhausted and sick that I just wanted to go to bed. Well on the way I passed out. To me I figured that I had just stood up too fast, I thought nothing of it and went to bed. The next morning I had the lovely experience of passing out again, so true to form my mom packs up everything, puts me in the car and rushes me back to the ER.
A few hours later I am being diagnosed with Hyperemisis Graviderum and am admitted to the hospital. So here I sit in room 312, dehydrated, risking heart, kidney and liver failure, down about 30lbs, frustrated, defeated and lost in the questions of how it all got so bad.
After finding out that we were expecting for a second time, we all knew that I was going to be sick. With Toryn I was sick right up until he was born. In fact I was throwing up three days before I had him and at that point my water had already broken. Having morning sickness was an understatement, keep the path to the bathroom free and clear I was about to become very sick.
Things started pretty much the same way they did with Toryn only this time I noticed that I was sick sooner. By four and a half weeks I was starting to show and throwing up, not everything but enough that I noticed it. By five and a half weeks my list of foods that I could not eat was so long that it was a struggle to find something that my body could handle. Around this time I had become so ill that I was throwing up stomach acid and, if there was really nothing in my stomach I would just dry heave. This is probably the worst because dry heaving kills all your stomach muscles. It would get so bad that I would eat anything just so I had something to throw up.
So there I am one night at work rushing to the bathroom yet again and this time I am throwing up blood. Having never had this happen before, in a mad panic I drive my bawling eyed self to the only walk-in clinic that I know to get checked. Doctor says everything is fine and gave me some meds that "should" help with nausea. Should is the operative word here.
Now in my seventh week I am still throwing up everything and nothing but, I have my first appointment with my OBGYN. By this time I have lost just over 20 pounds but not freaking out because I did the same thing with Toryn. My doctor gives me the full check up and a new prescription. She also informs me that I will most likely follow the same path as I did with Toryn and be sick the whole time. Feeling slightly disappointed that the statement "It's easier the second time around," would not apply to me, we left the office planning to come back in a month for the heartbeat appointment.
Well two weeks go by and I seem to get worse. I am at the point where nothing stays down not even liquid, I am afraid to even swallow most times because that is enough liquid to make my stomach turn. At this point I have more than a handful of people telling me to go to the hospital.
So off we go to the ER and before I know it I am being pumped full of liquids and having an ultra sound done. After four hours the baby is fine and I was just really dehydrated. We went home with yet another new prescription hoping that maybe this one would work better than the others.
The next day I was back in the ER with horrible stomach pains, so this time they pumped me full of liquids and meds and kept me over night. The next morning they did another ultra sound, said that everything still looked good and sent me home with a new $700 prescription. By this time my mom had come down to help with Toryn and with things around the house. I spent the next day at home laying on the couch trying to handle a tsp of liquid every two hours which, I was still throwing up.
By that night I was so exhausted and sick that I just wanted to go to bed. Well on the way I passed out. To me I figured that I had just stood up too fast, I thought nothing of it and went to bed. The next morning I had the lovely experience of passing out again, so true to form my mom packs up everything, puts me in the car and rushes me back to the ER.
A few hours later I am being diagnosed with Hyperemisis Graviderum and am admitted to the hospital. So here I sit in room 312, dehydrated, risking heart, kidney and liver failure, down about 30lbs, frustrated, defeated and lost in the questions of how it all got so bad.
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