Emotional

Warning! This is a post where I feel sorry for myself and complain about my life.

I recently read a blog post by a friend who just went through a similar situation in her pregnancy as my own. Though her symptoms were very different, I can tell by her recap that she was just as miserable and depressed as I am feeling now. She mentioned how writing down and sharing her feelings was therapeutic for her (it also helped me a lot to be able to read about it). I have been trying to stay positive at least in my blog posts (Josh can account for my many emotional break downs and mood swings). But to be completely honest I am so sick of being sick. I have been so bored between my bed rest and more recently my restriction on driving. I spend a lot of my day online reading blogs and checking Facebook to see if anyone has updated their pictures or status. Usually this makes me happy because it gives me something to do and I feel like I have a more human connection in doing that than in watching endless hours of TV (at least the people online are my friends and not just characters). However, the last couple of days, I have just found reasons to feel sorry for myself. I compare my life, my pregnancy, my whatever to whatever seems on the surface to be better. I really thought that my cardiologist would find something wrong with my heart and Zip! Bam! Boom! get me on some drugs that would fix everything. Unfortunately they found nothing. 

Now my "episodes" are coming more and more frequently. The yucky feeling times are lasting longer and the semi-normal feeling moments are far and few between. I feel like a terrible mother because I keep catching myself wishing they would just take the baby out, assuming that as soon as he is gone my body will go back to how it was pre-pregnancy. It is selfish and I really don't want my son to EVER feel anything like feel now. I know that the earlier he comes the greater his chances of all kinds of horrible sounding things are. My doctor basically gave me a check list of options from the least drastic to the last resort. It went a little something like this:

1- See if I'm anemic and get me on an Iron supplement (Done and done... still no relief)

2- Test my heart at the Dr office (Check)

3- Use a 24 hour heart monitor to track my heart and see it has problems (check...no results)

4- Use a 30 day heart monitor to do the same thing

5- CT scan of my brain (scary because the radiation could be harmful to little Jonesy and because if it is my brain it's likely a permanent problem) 

6- Induce me and hope that once I give birth the fainting, dizziness, nausea, constant headache, throwing up and overall body weakness will go away.

I am worried that if it IS Jonesy causing my problems that it will harm our chances of having more children. I don't want to endanger his quality of life just to make myself feel better.  I worry more that if it is my problem and it just coincidentally came at the same time as my pregnancy that I will not feel well enough to be a good mother. 

I'm frustrated that even though I am probably not diabetic, I failed my glucose test and have to go back to do it again, this time for three hours. I am frustrated that I am a failure as a wife because I simply can't handle doing things like laundry and fixing dinner. My memory stinks and I forget that I started a load of laundry and by the time I remember the clothes have sat there so long they smell rancid. And every time I cook, the meal either turns out burnt or the sheer thought of eating it makes me sick to my stomach... real comforting for a husband when his wife wont eat her own cooking. I want to be an equal contributor to our marriage. I hate that when I am hungry for something and it sounds good that I get sick and throw up and when nothing sounds good I have to force myself to eat. I'm frustrated that I have to call and ask people to change their schedules around and interrupt their lives to drive me to the store or doctor and that I have to do it so often because hello! I have like 50 billion doctors appointments. I hate being totally exhausted and out of breath from just taking a 10 minute walk. I hate the feeling right before I pass out when all I want to do is get as far away from myself as possible. I hate the splitting headache when I first wake up from passing out. I'm frustrated that no matter how exhausted I am I can't sleep.

I keep having really positive moments when I pray and feel the spirit, or get a blessing, or have a really uplifting conversation with some one who convinces me it's all going to be ok and then I turn around and find my self hitting rock bottom again.

  I hate that I can complain about being pregnant, because it is a blessing and I am so so happy about it!

I have three emotions: miserable and crying out of emotional or physical pain,  stony- cold-non communicative- lonely but pushing people away, and jokey and absolutely thrilled to be a mama. 

This is mostly a post for me to come back and read every time I find myself back at the start of my emotional ferris wheel. It is a post to remind me that no matter how miserable I am physically or emotionally... it will pass. This post is real and not sugar coated. I will hopefully recognize my own honesty and re-realize how blessed and happy I am. I get so excited every time I think of the first time get to hold my son. I love lifting up my shirt and watching my tummy twitch as he kicks and moves around inside. I love looking at all his cute little outfits. I love imagining what features he will have like his daddy and which he will have in common with me. I can't wait to see his first step. I can't wait to hang his drawings (scribbles) on the fridge and later post his good grades. I can't wait to see him play sports with his daddy. I love this little man. And no matter what, the most important thing is that he is healthy and happy.