Meet My New Best Friend
I haven't hugged something so much in all of my life. Including Rick.
Times are rough right now. Actually, that is quite an understatement. I've never been so sick or desperate in, well, ever. I've tried all of the home remedies out there, from ginger to acupressure bands, and even the prescription drugs don't work. And if one more person tells me to try eating some crackers and drinking some Sprite I think I may miraculously regain enough energy and strength to physically bring them down. I know their intentions are good. But my spirits are not.
My life consists of vomiting 10-15 times each day, and even something as simple as keeping water down is challenging at this point. I force food down my throat knowing that it is going to come right back up, but also knowing that it will taste better than the lining of my stomach if I choose not to force food down my throat. Every meal (and I use this term very loosely) is determined by its "upchuck factor." Vomiting profusely = severe dehydration; enter the wonderful trips to the ER to get IV fluids. GOOD TIMES. Turns out I have something called Hyperemesis Gravidarum, which affects about 1% of all pregnancies. Who knew I was so lucky?
I know "this too shall pass." But no matter how many times I hear this or tell myself this, part of my brain fails to believe it. I am to the point where I can no longer remember what it feels like to function normally. To feel healthy. To have a relationship with my husband. Will things really get better? Or will I feel like this for the rest of my life? As irrational as it is, I sometimes believe that I will.
What I do know is that I wouldn't be able to get through this without Rick. He has been such a trooper. He's been taking such good care of me and picking up all of the slack and somehow staying sane (I think). I know he misses his wife. I miss his wife, too.
This HAS to get better, right? For now, we are taking it day by day, because the thought that this could last for weeks or even months longer *shudder* makes me want to....well, puke. Or crawl into a deep dark hole to curl up and die.
Times are rough right now. Actually, that is quite an understatement. I've never been so sick or desperate in, well, ever. I've tried all of the home remedies out there, from ginger to acupressure bands, and even the prescription drugs don't work. And if one more person tells me to try eating some crackers and drinking some Sprite I think I may miraculously regain enough energy and strength to physically bring them down. I know their intentions are good. But my spirits are not.
My life consists of vomiting 10-15 times each day, and even something as simple as keeping water down is challenging at this point. I force food down my throat knowing that it is going to come right back up, but also knowing that it will taste better than the lining of my stomach if I choose not to force food down my throat. Every meal (and I use this term very loosely) is determined by its "upchuck factor." Vomiting profusely = severe dehydration; enter the wonderful trips to the ER to get IV fluids. GOOD TIMES. Turns out I have something called Hyperemesis Gravidarum, which affects about 1% of all pregnancies. Who knew I was so lucky?
I know "this too shall pass." But no matter how many times I hear this or tell myself this, part of my brain fails to believe it. I am to the point where I can no longer remember what it feels like to function normally. To feel healthy. To have a relationship with my husband. Will things really get better? Or will I feel like this for the rest of my life? As irrational as it is, I sometimes believe that I will.
What I do know is that I wouldn't be able to get through this without Rick. He has been such a trooper. He's been taking such good care of me and picking up all of the slack and somehow staying sane (I think). I know he misses his wife. I miss his wife, too.
This HAS to get better, right? For now, we are taking it day by day, because the thought that this could last for weeks or even months longer *shudder* makes me want to....well, puke. Or crawl into a deep dark hole to curl up and die.
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