Having dropped off the face of the planet for the last three months, I'm finally ready to talk about what's been happening. I'm very sorry for any worry I might have caused. It's been a tough slog for sure.
The bad news is that the past few months have been hell. The good news is that I'm pregnant :)
But let's begin at the beginning...
After I returned from my trip to Disneyland, I was inundated with projects at work. I had no time for anything during the day but that. Combined with training for the half-marathon, I had precious little extra time. What time I had remaining, I used to do regular household chores. Cleaning, shopping, errands, etc.
Weeks passed in a blur and then on a fateful Saturday morning at the end of September, I peed on a stick. After only two months of trying, Mr. Trim and I had achieved our biggest wish– a bun was growing in the oven.
Unfortunately, things went from happy to awful in short order. There was some financial stress. I started spotting when I shouldn't have been and was sent for an early ultrasound. I was also told absolutely no exercise because of the spotting. My thyroid was deemed underactive and a lump was discovered on it. I was then sent for a thyroid ultrasound. Boom, boom, boom. Stressful things kept happening.
Meanwhile, I was slowly sinking into an emotional mess. Between the stress of dealing with everything above, the all-day morning sickness, and not being able to exercise at all, I went from a vibrant energetic person to someone who could barely sit on the couch all evening and watch tv. It was devastating. I withdrew. I doubted I could be a good mother. I hated what my body had become. And so on.
I knew at that point I was slipping into depression so I pre-emptively asked my doctor for help because I knew any dosage change would take time to become effective. She increased my dosage but it was too late. Within a week, I'd gone over the edge and was trapped in the deepest darkest pit of my life. I could not see my way out. I was trapped. Nothing was enjoyable. I couldn't stand to be touched. I didn't laugh. My world had become a bleak unending landscape draped in black.
At my worst point, I finally acknowledged what I was feeling was beyond normal depression and was worse than anything I had ever felt. This was one battle I couldn't win on my own. I pulled myself together enough to make two desperate calls. One to my doctor and the other to my therapist. Though difficult, it was the best thing I could've done.
In short order, I was diagnosed with antepartum depression. My medication was increased again. My doctor made sure I had weekly appointments with her so as to monitor me more closely. She also arranged an appointment with a specialist on pregnancy-related depression. While I was waiting for that appointment, I went to a number of sessions with my regular therapist. Talking helped and I began to feel better.
Slowly but surely, I was coming out of the blackness. The morning sickness was abating. My body didn't seem to be as foreign to me. And little things started falling back in place. Just as I did when I was losing weight, I started on small and acheivable goals. Flossing my teeth. Drinking water. Cleaning off my bedside table. Slowly but surely, I've been working my way up and it shows.
Between that and the care I'm receiving from the specialist, I'm on the mend and within inches of being as normal as the situation will allow. I wish I could say that pregnancy has been sunshine and daisies, but it hasn't been. But that's okay. I'm told that many woman experience a number of the same things as I did and that it's okay to not "like" being pregnant. Not everyone glows. Certainly not me!
But now that I have a noticeable bump, it's an indescribable feeling. I have reassurance. As well as an outwardly visible sign. Not that huge sore boobs aren't a visible sign, but they're not fun. Cradling the bump with your hand in the middle of the night, now that's a nice feeling.
As of this date, I've got appointments up the wazoo with the specialist, another therapist in pregnancy-related issues, as well as an endocrinologist for my thyroid. Though our health care system can be a little slow sometimes, it moved really fast to help me and the bump. I am so glad we have such great health care workers in this country.
Emotionally, I'm doing pretty good now. Physically, much improved. There are still a few things here and there that need working on but at least they seem to be within reach.
If there's one blessing to be had it's this: the bump has been growing despite everything. The early ultrasound at 7 weeks revealed a teeny tiny beating heart. At 9 weeks, I heard the heartbeat in my doctor's office. At 12 weeks, the bump came out of hiding and told me I needed bigger pants. And today at 13 weeks I'm feeling like it was worth all the difficulties to get to this point.
As for my blog, I'm afraid it's going to go into stasis for now. I'll still keep it active, but won't be writing new posts for awhile now. Once the bump is born and life settles into something of a routine, I'll be back on Weight Watchers to lose the pregnancy weight. Until then, thanks for the support and kind words over the years. I'll see you in 9 months :)
