I Am Tougher Than This February 21, 2008

You lucky bloggers are about to watch me bleed. Raw, real, revealing. Right here on WordPress. Go get your popcorn and your soda. It’s about to get dramatic around here.

I went to the doctor today. I went with butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t know what would happen. I had “issues” I barely explained in another post. Female issues. Guys, you won’t understand this part so feel free to skim to the next paragraph. Since Tuesday of last week (the day I flipped out and cried all day), I have been having some very big symptoms of early pregnancy. I won’t give you all the gory details, but I’ll say that they are definite signs associated with the first trimester. Being that I was just pregnant 2 1/2 months ago, I figured myself an expert on early pregnancy. It’s hard to remember after 2 years pass. But when it’s been such a short time frame, you don’t forget much. This was a surprise to me because (a) we weren’t trying and (b) my cycle didn’t seem to allow for me to be ovulating at the time we did the deed(s).

However, I am not pregnant. I took a pregnancy test at the doc’s office this morning. Negative.

First of all, no pity party. I am not upset that I am not pregnant (we weren’t trying). Truthfully, it is not a good time for me to be pregnant. It’s insane right now and Rich’s work schedule is about to get infinitely worse starting yesterday. Remember when I complained about getting no breaks? Well, forget the thought of it because in 2008 I have got to suck it up. No breaks. None. No point in complaining. It’s the sacrifice we’ll make in order for Rich’s company to take off. It’s life and it won’t last forever.

What makes me overwhelmingly upset, though, is that my body has tricked me. What is this crap? Why do I have to suffer a miscarriage, think I’m pregnant again, then suffer early pregnancy symptoms for no reason? That’s unfair! I feel like a chicken who is being plucked one painful feather at a time. Something has got to give. Please. Seriously. Who can I take this up with because I am slowly sinking. I can’t tread water like this. I’m exhausted. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

QUICK NOTE: Ok - nobody goes off thinking I’m suicidal here. I am not and my marriage is fine and my kids are fine. No rash judgments on your part. I am using this blog to vent and organize my thoughts and emotions. Nobody takes this wrong. I am the type of person who does not suffer quietly. I am very open because it suits me.

I am at a point in my life where I have no more to give. I am running on fumes, if you know what I mean. No more gas. The tank is empty.

So in light of this, some things are about to change.

First of all, to avoid ending up on anti-depressant drugs I am vowing to take great care of myself. My exercise routine will resume (I stopped b/c I thought I was pregnant). My low carb diet will resume (again I stopped b/c…).

Second of all, I am no longer available to volunteer. Think full spectrum here. If you want me for something look away and look away fast because the answer is no. Until I am out of the radar of my doctor with the prescription pad no more volunteering. I am spread too thin and apparently I am not cut out for this.

Third, I will do what I enjoy like having dinner parties and fun gatherings at my house. However, I will not put myself or my family out by breaking my neck to be sure every single inch of my house is sparkling clean. I promise it will be as clean as I can make it with two energetic toddlers and a husband who is working 100 hours a week. Beyond that you’ll just have to overlook it or come visit 10 years from now when, like I said before, I have TIME to clean.

Fourth (and most important), I need all the prayers you can send to the Lord on my behalf. If you can think it, you can pray it. I try to leave what to pray for up to the person praying because I believe the Holy Spirit will lead you. He, after-all, knows exactly what I need.

My doctor wants to reevaluate me in 2 months. If there is no change, or a continued downward spiral, I will be given the “anti-depressant” drug of choice. I know it’s up to me to take it. But, truthfully, if I’m still in this mode by then I will probably walk in her office with my hand held out begging for mercy. I cannot function like this. My husband and children deserve better than this. I want my joy back. I want my happiness back.

I thought I was tougher than this. Turns out I’m not. That hurts my pride and then some.

Pray.

PS: If you are a close friend of mine, don’t be hurt that I didn’t tell you. This is the 4th time since Rich and I have been married that I was convinced I was pregnant. The other three times I told everyone then had to go back and untell them. That is no fun. And please understand that when I am pregnant again I probably won’t tell you until the pregnancy has been well-established and all early tests have been done with positive results.