When Your Ducks Can’t Be In A Row
|February 16, 2014||Posted by Sarah under Health & Wellness, Lifestyle|
Sometimes things don’t always go as planned. Who am I kidding…things really never goes as planned. For someone like me who likes to be organized and have all my ducks in a row, I’m not the best at handling situations that are not what I expected. I’m not really a roll with the punches kind of gal…I’m working on it, but it’s taking some time.
So when the past few months threw me curveball after curveball, my first reaction was to retreat. Hibernate. Hide from what was going on. And I’m sad to say, that’s what I did. It’s no secret that I’ve been a bit quiet here and on Running at Disney. I’ve felt like if I don’t have anything good to say, I shouldn’t say it at all. I felt like if I really wrote about what was going on I would perceived as whining and complaining. Surely not one wants to listen to me complain.
I’ve come to realize that there is a difference between just complaining and having some real issues that I should be talking about not only for my own sanity, but that maybe it might just help someone else. Life isn’t perfect and I probably shouldn’t pretend that it is. But I guess I feel like if I actually SPEAK about what’s going on, it gives it more TRUTH and in turn gives me those feelings of FAILURE that I don’t know how to deal with. Oh such a ridiculous dilemma…
Well despite all that, I need to let it all out. Last fall kicked my ass. All of the travel I did took a lot out of me mentally, which in turn manifested into some seriously physical issues. I started having very bad dizzy spells after starting the Lurong Living Paleo Challenge and then some bad flares with my colitis. I’m not sure if the paleo diet caused my dizzy spells, but it continued to get worse and after about 5 weeks I started eating grains again and almost immediately felt better.
I had a colonoscopy in October that showed my colitis has progressed from mild to moderate, which was a serious blow. My doctors are recommending that I go on Humira to attempt and get my disease in complete remission, but I am very hesitant due to the serious side effects of the drug. No decisions have been made yet and I’m still taking my time to weigh my options.
After that news, I fell into a bit of a funk due to a wicked combination of being scared about this new diagnoses and the cold weather that was beginning to set in. I love to hibernate in the winter, but this was going to a whole different level. I canceled two trips to Walt Disney World, that included a few races, which is totally unheard of for me. Disney is my happy place and I didn’t even want to go there. Basically, I needed to focus on getting my head back in the game and getting my body healthy again…meaning rest and recuperation. It seemed to have worked. Thankfully my friends were there to help pull me out of the funk and forced me to go to the gym and go out for dinners. B was there as my sounding board, my confidant, my comedian.
So once December came I started feeling much better. My colitis was getting better and my symptoms were subsiding. The holidays actually started putting me in a better mood (which is odd for me since I am normally the Grinch) and I felt myself turning around. I started making gains at the gym even though my hips were giving me some problems. I was feeling productive at work and more like myself again…I was no longer going to take the easy road!
The new year was looking bright and on January 7th, we got some news that would change everything. I was pregnant. Wow…me pregnant…whoa. B and I were in a state of shock for a few days because we had always been on the fence about starting a family. We were very happy with our life, make a comfortable living, travel when we want and sleep in on the weekends. Having a baby is a HUGE change and we were never 100% sure we wanted that. But we were in the mindset that if it happens, it happens and if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. We were ok with that. Well that was until it happened.
About a week in, we both started getting really excited. The morning sickness and fatigue was setting in making it a reality. We were talking about moving B’s office to make a nursery, how we were going to tell our family and hoping that our crazy cat wouldn’t turn on us when we brought a screaming human into the house. We both really wanted this all of a sudden and we were happy.
While having my first ultrasound, I knew my doctor’s silence was not a good thing. She moved that wand around way too much and was taking a few too many pictures for my liking without pointing out the head or heartbeat or any of the other things you see in the movies. Clearly, there was no heartbeat and that was not good.
My doctor wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt that I wasn’t as far along as determined by my last period. So I had another ultrasound 5 days later, but the result was the same. Not heartbeat and no growth. I had miscarried and my initial reaction was that I failed. I failed my baby and I failed my husband. My inflamed body that I am in a constant battle with had failed. My doctor reassured me that this is perfectly normal and over 25% of women have miscarriages in their first trimester. There was nothing I did to cause it and nothing I could’ve done to prevent it. She even shared her story of miscarriage with me. But still I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know this baby, it never even had a heartbeat, yet I felt a huge emptiness that I just didn’t understand.
I quickly scheduled a D&C to removed all of the “cells” so I could move on and try to put this behind me. I started crying going into surgery…there was part of me that just wasn’t ready to let go even though I knew I had to. What if the doctors were wrong?! But I knew they weren’t. And that’s when the grief set in.
The past week has been a roller coaster of emotions…just when I think I’m back in the station, there is another lift hill followed by a 200 foot drop and a double helix to turn my stomach and start the waterfall of tears. I’m worried about B and how he’s handling everything…I’m trying to stay strong for him, like I know he is doing for me.
On top of the emotional side is the physical side of healing which is something else I’m not good with. In my mind, I need to get back to “normal” as soon as possible. I want my life back, I want my body back. But will all surgery comes healing and rest. I haven’t been to the gym in two weeks, I feel weak, vulnerable…I HATE feeling this way!
But with everything in life, time will heal…both the emotional and the physical. I have a wonderful support system, a wonderful husband, all who understand and are grieving with me. I didn’t know this baby, but it is a loss still the same. A loss of an idea, of hope, of the happiness that could’ve been but that is now filled with sorrow. Each day gets a little easier and life is getting back to normal…I can actually begin to see my ducks getting back in line. We are taking some time to ourselves and trying to laugh as much as possible because that really is the best medicine. Well that and cats…cats are probably the BEST medicine. 🙂