Starting to come to the realization that some people are not
meant to be pregnant.
Something Chris and I have always disagreed about is our
number. He wants to be done at two and since that’s where we are at he is ready
to make that a “permanent” situation. I understand with our lifestyle two kids
is the easier way to go but I’m just not ready to commit to two. I have always
wanted to have three or four kids. I LOVE kids, big shocker I know. I’m just
not ready to say that I am done. It actually sort of scares me and breaks my
heart to say that we are done.
With all of that being said, pregnancy is not something my
body seems to handle well. Everyone tells me I “wear pregnancy well” or “pregnancy
looks good on you”. That’s nice; it is killing me physically and emotionally.
Just because I don’t look like your average 8 month pregnant lady doesn’t mean
that I don’t deal with all of the same aches and pains that they have. I pee at
least every 20 minutes, I toss and turn all night hoping to be comfy, waking up
exhausted and feeling like I was hit by a car because of how sore my back is, I
can’t bend over without hurting myself, I can’t walk up a flight of stairs
without having to stop to catch my breath (it’s even worse if I have to carry
Olivia up too), if I’m on my feet for more than 10 minutes my back and belly
start aching and if I don’t sit down the pain ends up making me super grumpy,
and…I think you get the point.
When I was pregnant with Olivia I ended up fighting
dehydration, a pulled groin and then PUPPS. When people hear that I took castor
oil at 38 weeks to put myself into labor I get all kinds of looks and comments,
my response, google PUPPS and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing.
Sitting here typing I get emotional thinking about how hard it was. Several
cold showers every day, calling Chris at work crying because I just couldn’t
take it anymore.
Here I am with pregnancy number two. The first two
trimesters were easy in comparison to my pregnancy with Olivia. I was so busy
with a toddler, a gimpy husband and school that it was easy to forget that I
was even pregnant. Yes I had bad morning sickness and what not but I was super
busy and distracted, I didn’t have time to think about the fact that I was
growing a baby inside of me. I actually couldn’t stand sweets and ate really
healthy, I didn’t gain a pound. Enter third trimester.
About two weeks ago I was informed that I am anemic. Not at
all surprising to me since I have been border line anemic my whole life and
have been told to take iron here and there to get my blood levels where they
were supposed to be. The thing I didn’t realize was that my extreme exhaustion
(10hrs of sleep at night and a 2 hour nap weren’t cutting it) was because of my
anemia. I had to double my iron intake. Iron is not a fun thing to take; it can
be rough on your digestive system. It only took a week of extra iron to
drastically help my energy and completely screw up my stomach.
Today I got the phone call I was dreading. I have
gestational diabetes. I know that it is fairly common in pregnancy but it
really has me thinking…Not only do I now have a higher risk of diabetes later
in life, my unborn son now has a higher risk of childhood/adult obesity as well
as diabetes. I can handle me ending up with diabetes but to know that it’s my
fault that my son could end up with diabetes is something that is killing me.
When I first found out I might have GD I didn’t think anything of it because
for some stupid reason I didn’t think it would affect the baby. After finding
out that I do have GD I started researching. Turns out I haven’t been gaining
weight because most of my sugar intake has gone to the baby which means I’m
going to have a big baby, big babies tend to mean difficult deliveries. Not to
mention he will have to have his blood sugar monitored his first few days to
make sure he doesn’t go into shock.
With all of this information I find my heart breaking. I
know I told Chris I would be okay with only two and I really want to be okay
with only two but I haven’t had a chance to adjust to the thought of being
done. Dealing with pregnancy complications has me believing this is Gods way of
telling me I shouldn’t be having kids. This is not something that is settling
very well. In my heart I know my head is right but I am not ready to believe it
or to come to terms with it. Who knows when I will be okay with making two kids
a “permanent” thing but deep down I know it’s what’s best.
