Last time I wrote, it was the end of Week 5 with Sven. That very night, after I finished writing that entry, things got very difficult with Sven. He went about 3 or more weeks without sleeping (I lost track) much at night, which means I didn't sleep either. There were many nights where I was literally holding him, feedling him, changing him from 7pm at night until 7am. I think I went insane during that time. You can ask Scott. He will attest to this fact. Mentally I often thought that I was being tortured. I mean, "they" use sleep deprivation as a torture tool. I was a prisoner of war! I was weepy, complaining, negative, exhausted, unkempt, had major headaches and an aching back. And I allowed myself to dwell on these things. I think too, that I felt a little more distraught with Sven than I did with Anika because frankly, I just haven't been able to put myself first in years. And we had not planned to have Sven so soon. I felt a little robbed. I barely had time to recover from Anika before I was thrown back into the fray. Which brings me to why I'm writing today.
Today, for the first time in I don't know how long, I worked out. It wasn't a grand sort of effort, like the standard 3-hour bike rides I used to take with my more slender, fitter self. It was a huffing and puffing, red-in the face, damn I'm SO out of shape sort of effort. I won't kid you. It was hard for me. But if you had seen me out on the trail today, I would've looked like I was moving in slow motion. I was only out for 45 or so minutes, but physically it felt much longer. And I had some time to myself, to think. The last few years have been really hard for me. I went from being a very active, slender, somewhat attractive working woman who had loads of free time to watch movies, read books, go out for long walks and romantic dinners, travel and enjoy time with friends, to who I am today. Things began to change for me when we started trying to have kids and slowly the months ticked by and no pregnancy. I began to back off on my workouts thinking these were sabatoging our chances. Still no success. A year passed. Finally we went to my OB to get things checked out. We went through some insemination trials. We finally became pregnant only later to find out it was ectopic and I would be forced to miscarry. What a very sad time for me. Let me just say that miscarriage steals away the innocent joy in future pregnancies and at that time the hope and dream of children. More months passed, time to heal and time to wonder if it just wasn't in our future to have children. What a difficult thing to discover and mourn. I wasn't ready to give up quite yet, and continued pulling back on my workouts and devoting my whole mind, heart and energy into involving myself fully into the cause of becoming pregnant. I finally told Scott that we needed to take the next step in our fertility journey. I just could not handle further miscarriages and needed to invest in something that would have better odds. We gathered up our savings and decided to try IVF. Another very stressful time for me physically, mentally and mostly emotionally. I gave myself multiple injections a day and I HATE needles! That is how driven I was to make it happen. There was a very strict protocol to follow. A daily regimen of well-timed injections, ultrasounds, sore ovaries (imagine having your ovaries the size of oranges and how that might feel walking around let alone trying to jog), the procedure to remove the eggs and then came the day. Only one embryo survived to Transfer Day. We got to see that embryo under the microscope. We had no idea that would be our Anika. I had so much hope and anxiety when I looked at that embryo. Then was the transfer and then the worst part of the whole experience -- the 2WW, the 2-week wait. This is when there is nothing for you to do. Nothing daily to stay focused on except every weird twinge in your body that might indicate if the little embie took. I took no chances with my activity or choices (although it probably would've been fine)...I treated myself like a porcelian doll. As each second, then minute, then hours tick by I wondered...will it happen or will we have to go through this again? Will it ever happen? And then finally, we were so blessed with good news. I was pregnant. But of course, like I mentioned, there was no innocent joy for me. Just a whole other level of anxiety. I had bleeding issues early on, and then some serious nausea for about 3 months. I hate nausea. What an awful feeling, that for 3 months straight - morning, noon and night - to feel like you're about to hurl. After that time the nausea clouds slowly lifted. By that time my hips started to hurt, was getting less and less sleep at night, and I began to put on lots of water weight, had major swelling in my hands and feet. I could no longer wear my wedding ring. Towards the end of the pregnancy I got kidney stones and was in the hospital for a day or so. I was also slowly getting pre-eclampsia. My blood pressure was getting worse and worse. At 39 weeks it was time to deliver. I guess a blood pressure of 160/130 is not healthy! ;-) Anika's delivery was as dreamy as deliveries get. Short and sweet. My contractions were painful but manageable until I got the epidural and then is was easy-breezy. I pushed for 10 minutes and it was over. Our miracle baby had arrived! So now we really were a family. What a happy moment.
My baby, breathing Anika posed a who new set of challenges for me. When she was 6 days old she got sick, stopped eating and had this scary green gunk coming out of her eyes like is was some horror movie. We rushed her to Children's Hospital where we spent the next 3 days. I watched my precious baby girl get a spinal, bloodwork, an IV and numerous other pricks. She was so little and I was so scared that she wasn't eating. We spent some sleepless days and nights fretting over her well-being while trying to learn how to nurse (wow - what a HUGE challenge that was), get my milk to come in, meeting with tons of nurses, lactation consultants, the works! It ended up probably just being some sort of systemic virus and blocked tear ducts - but what a rough way to start out as new parents. Then we brought her home and had the standard insanity of sleepless night, colicky crying which got worse as the weeks progressed. We later learned she had acid reflux and after 10 weeks we were starting to get the crying and her pain hopefully to be more manageable. As she grew she finally started sleeping longer at night (YES!). As the holidays approached though, so did the flu season and man was she sick ALL the time! She had tons of ear infections (maybe 10 or more by her first birthday) and was up crying in the middle of the night often. She had Croup where her cough sounded like a seal. She has RSV - that was wicked. The doctors at her clinic now know us on a first name basis. As the craziness of Christmas died down, I realized that I didn't feel very well myself. But it didn't feel like I was sick. It was a nagging, all day, all over gross kind of feeling. And suddently it occurred to me. No way, I told myself. It could not be. I still had some leftover tests and almost passed out. Pregnant. I approached Scott on the sofa, watching TV. "You're going to want to turn that off." He looked at me. I'm sure I looked like I had seen a ghost. I know I was shaking. "I'm pregnant." I don't think he knew what to say. There was a nervous sort of feeling I had. Of course, i was happy, but I just hadn't expected it to happen so soon especially after all the troubles we had with Anika. And I definitely didn't feel ready for another baby. I mean, Anika was not yet 6 months old! This was going to affect the year I had planned for myself. I had planned to whip myself back into some semblance of fitness, get back in contact with friends, and really just get a back a bit of my life. And now, I was back in it. We had to think about finances, space, work, furniture -- so many things. I also worried throughout this pregnancy and didn't allow myself to believe it was real until Sven was out and breathing. Luckily I didn't have the same pregnancy challenges I had with Anika. I had a little bit of nausea, but nowhere near what I had before. I did have some severe sciatic pain at the end, but that was basically it. Baby Anika proved to be plenty challenge for a large pregnant me to take care of without those other things! I was due mid-August and finally in July Anika had surgery and got tubes (we have not had an ear infections since - thank goodness!).
So that brings me back to Sven and the marathon I have been in for the past few years with myself. When he was born I was thrilled of course to meet my son and was really in love. I think I allowed myself to enjoy him more in the first week than with Anika. I was a seasoned veteran. Things would have to go better this time. But I was also exhausted, worn out. I hadn't had time to re-charge myself in YEARS. Each day, each month, there was a new tribulation, and new battle to work through. I suppose I should have known that kids would be hard. But I really didn't. How could I? Without going through it myself, it was impossible to fully understand the experience that goes with the words I hear my other mommy friends saying. And who's going to complain? Who's going to complain about an innocent baby? Plus, no one likes complainers. But it is hard. Really hard. And it gets even harder when you don't have an easy baby. So when I began to go through my sleepless days and nights, nonstop crying, sore boobs - more generally, more baby trials and tribulations, I felt down...negative. And I couldn't stop the freefall. Even before Sven was born my attitude had shifted for the critical worse. At work, I knew I was turning people off with my attitude. At home, I had the help from family but could not say 'thank you.' I just felt perpetually angry and wronged. My self confidence also waned. I had put on many extra pounds and the worse I felt, the more I ate (doesn't help that I was pregnant and constantly hungry either). I was frustrated and felt imprisoned. Scott had responsibilities to spend the summer fixing up our rental property, so that left me to man Anika. I had no time for myself even then.
Monday was my first day back at work and while it was a difficult day leaving Sven and Anika at daycare (yes, I did shed a few tears...what loving mom wouldn't), I felt slightly liberated. A sliver of light filtered into my life. I was regaining a bit of independance, even if it meant I had to work. I would have the opportunity to go out for lunch, or at a minimum, just eat something other than granola bars. I'd had a shower, nice clothes on, was able to visit with friends I hadn't seen in months, and most importantly, I had time to myself. Maybe not the hours I used to have, but a few minutes each day to take a quiet moment to breathe. And today, I decided to put myself first, and went outside for a jog. I remember thinking before I got outside, that maybe I should've brought my iPod as this could turn out to be a really boring jog. But it wasn't. So many thoughts flooded my mind. I thought about everything I already wrote about and more. I conceded to myself that I needed to be slightly more relaxed and open-minded at work. There are many ways to solve a problem. My job wasn't to force people to solve them my way, but to ensure the end goal was met, via any path. I realized that each day of my life was a priviledge to live. I thought about Scott's brother Matt, who recently was in a very tragic and life-altering car accident. His neck has been broken, he will likely be a quadrapelegic and in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. This outcome is so unfair. Matt so undeserving. I think about him often and about what I would do in his place. It makes me feel like I have no excuses, for he would give anything to use his legs, walk down the hall, and feed Sven in the middle of the night. He would give ANYTHING to be able to work again. All of the things I take for granted. And though my body hurt, and I felt self-concious as hell, I went for it. Like I said, it wasn't an olympic effort, but I pushed myself because I wouldn't have done my jog justice if I hadn't really tried. And when I finished, I hadn't transformed my body (that will take hundreds more workouts to do) but I felt as if I had transformed my mind and heart. I realize that it will take time to attempt to maintain this new outlook and that I'll have set-backs. But I have decided to give myself a break. I've had a tough few years. In time, my body will come back, my independance will continue to evolve and hopefully my relationships will improve. And at the end of it, I will have two beautiful little people that I love dearly, and I know, when the fog has totally cleared, my mind will come to a consensus that it was all worth it.
