where sunflowers grow: part II

so last summer, about a month before i got pregnant, back when i was blissfully ignorant of how miserable a person can be, i wrote {this post} about finding the good in the bad, how sometimes sunflowers grow in patches of weeds. during some of the worst times during this pregnancy, i have tried really, really hard to think about where sunflowers grow. because i have to believe this terrible trial happened for a reason and that some good came out of it. especially after days like yesterday.

yesterday was not a good day.

i guess this really starts last week, when i had a scary panic attack. nausea-wise, it was a rough day. compared to a few months ago, it wasn't bad at all, but i was still feeling pretty yucky. i went pee in the upstairs bathroom at my parents' and thought i might throw up. i have thrown up so many times in that toilet, and for some reason, it just freaked me out that night. right after going pee, travis and i got in our car to drive home. he asked me how i was doing and i said, "oh man, i thought i was going to puke in there."

and then i started to cry.
then the whole bit, hyperventilating, heart pounding, legs going numb, feeling dizzy, etc. the usual song and dance of my panic attacks.

travis, who was confused at first about how his wife had gone from completely calm to this person who couldn't breathe, pulled the car over and hugged me while i sobbed. helped me slow my breathing down and get everything under control again.

"you're okay collette. you aren't throwing up anymore. you aren't going to throw up." he kept telling me. as i sit here and type this, i'm starting to cry because of how real that fear is, that i'm going to go back to being that person who is trapped in a body that won't keep food down, a body that doesn't work right, no matter what you try, no matter what meds you take. those months were unbelievably isolating and terrifying.

then a few days later.
travis and i were sitting on our couch, just hanging out, and we made a couple of jokes about our non-existent sex life.
then we went upstairs to get dressed to leave, and i just stood there in the closet, sobbing my eyes out.
again, travis was confused about his seemingly calm wife turning into a blubbering mess in a matter of minutes.

i was just filled with this hot rage that our lives have been so altered by hyperemesis and that neither of us had any control over any of it.

so then yesterday.

i had a dentist appointment for a tooth i had chipped on sunday. after eating dinner, i realized there was a jagged hole in one of my molars. uhgggg, a trip to the dentist, something i have been dreading, because i had a terrible time taking care of my teeth during the vomiting. just putting the toothbrush in my mouth was enough to send me to the toilet. i remember nights, trying to get myself to bed after forcing down that bowl of cereal, and then brushing my teeth. feeling the cereal coming back up, starting to sweat and turn green and travis saying, "oh no, you're so close to going to sleep, come on, you can do it!" and then throwing up the cereal and having to go back downstairs and try to eat again. so i wasn't able to take very good care of my teeth and i knew i'd be paying the price eventually.

got to the dentist. did the whole, "how's the pregnancy going?" "oh it's been pretty hard, i threw up a lot." trying not to be overly dramatic about it, and then wishing i could just scream to him that it's been living hell and i can't believe i could live feeling like i was going to die for that many months. and then he's like, yeah, well my sister had tough pregnancies and she ended up having five kids. plus she had preeclampsia, so try having that plus being sick! ...good thing pregnancy makes you so tired, or i think i would punch a lot of faces.

so then he numbs me up and starts drilling on the tooth. saying, "oh this should be quick and easy.... oh wait."
and you're all numb and drooly and you're like, "whaa? wha's going on??"
he tells you he can tell you vomited a lot. and that the acid from the vomit has worn away the tooth and that was why the tooth crumbled away, and it's now in the nerve and you need a root canal.
"yeah, vomit is pretty rough on your teeth." he says.
like he even knows.

he didn't look at the rest of my teeth and i really don't want him to. a few months before i got pregnant, i had a cleaning and my teeth were perfect, no problems, no cavities. now my teeth are chipping and filled with decay?

i barely made it out of the office before bursting into tears. not because i need a root canal, even though that will be a long and uncomfortable day. i cried all the way home because i feel so angry, so betrayed by my body, so upset that i did it, i faced my fear of pregnancy and it was harder and more miserable than i ever could have imagined. i'm so angry that i had to learn these big words, hyperemesis gravidarum and that even though i'm not throwing up anymore, that i'm doing better, my teeth are paying the price. that i have panic attacks when i feel extra nauseated. that the decision to give remington a sibling isn't going to be a simple, happy thing.

angry angry angry.

but the piece of me that demands i see the whole situation and not just the bad parts, that annoying voice that insists good things have come from this, reminds me of a few important things.

remember that PTSD i have as a result of sexual assault? and how i have a hard time believing that the people i love most and who love me, actually do love me? specifically, my parents and travis. it hasn't completely "gone away" but it is completely different now.

quick recap. after the assault, i looked at myself in a different way. i felt dirty, used. i remember on a trip to our cabin, looking through the screen door at my family sitting by the fire outside, and feeling that i wasn't worthy to sit with them, that i was somehow tainted. i believed that my parents saw me as something disgusting and that they couldn't possibly love me the same way ever again.

it sounds irrational, i know, but this is how i have felt for a long time. part of me knew my parents loved me, but the other part just knew i wasn't worthy of their love.

so when i became so sick i couldn't care for myself anymore, my mom was the first to understand. i suddenly was terrified to be away from her, because she seemed to get it in a way no one else did, that i had severe food aversions, that having to smell just about anything would make me sicker. she was the first person i really broke down in front of after vomiting. she stroked my back and hair while i sobbed to her that i couldn't do this anymore, that i couldn't survive, i wanted out. i had heard so many things that made it worse, like "eat crackers" or "everyone gets sick when they are pregnant" that i was afraid to be around anyone, because those comments were un-validating (is that a word?) and made everything harder. i just wanted to be around my mom, because she understood how sick i was without me having to prove anything to her.

i also started to see how much my dad loves me. which i know, shouldn't seem like that big of a deal, but it is. with travis having to work so much, i couldn't be alone, so, as i've said, i moved in with my parents. every morning, my dad would cheerily greet me with, "good morning pumpkin!" and then ask what i thought i could eat for breakfast. if i threw it up, he would try to cheer me up and re-feed me. he distracted me with things to laugh at, like watching seinfeld together or making jokes. he gave the perfect combination of sympathy and a can-do attitude, always telling me, "you're doing great, babe! just keep going!" my dad also kept me from going insane, taking me on small outings to the grocery store when i felt up to it and on drives to get out of the dreary january weather. both my parents planned their lives around taking care of me, putting off trips and dates, and cooking something i would be able to keep down, which was no small feat, considering it changed almost daily. nothing could have "fixed" the situation, but their complete support and concern made all the difference.

then, travis. that man has made so many quiet sacrifices. before this all happened, i had a hard time believing i came first with him or that he could possibly love me. (again, seems like a no-brainer, i mean, the guy married me, obviously he loves me, but the PTSD has a way of tricking me into believing a man could only want me for my body and that i'm not a priority. and this is the quick version.)  after going through this pregnancy with travis, i have absolutely no doubts about his love for me. between all the things he has done, like caring for me physically, taking charge of everything i couldn't do, including things like the 45 minute phone call it took to pay off my student loan, and let's me honest, basically doing everything for me. and then the big things, the things i'll never forget, like watching him argue with the doctor that week we rushed into the ER and then L&D a few days later. the doctor was talking over me, while i was laying helpless in that hospital bed, saying this was normal and that i would probably start feeling better soon. travis wasn't having it and he interrupted that doctor.
"she can't eat. anything. i warm up plain noodles for her and put butter on them and that is all she has been able to eat for weeks. something is not right here."

that was the point when the doctor started to talk about getting hydration for me and that if things didn't improve, we would go to a PICC line.

how on earth could i not believe in travis's love for me after all of that?
now i am able to have a panic attack in front of travis and allow him for comfort me, something that before, i would have hid from him and handled it on my own, which would make it worse. 


these examples are only a tiny picture of all that my parents and travis have done for me during this pregnancy. and yes, i'm so very angry that this happened to my life. but how selfish would i be if i didn't recognize the incredible things that came along too? for the first time since i was that fourteen year old girl, i know without a doubt of my parents' love for me. i know without a doubt that travis loves me and that i come first with him. i have also learned how sure God's love for me is and that He is always there. these are some of the most important truths i could need to know.

i am angry that this happened to me and i don't understand why it had to be this way.

but i still believe sunflowers will grow in the patches of weeds that seem so awful. and we will look back and feel thankful for the very things that we struggled with.


xo