Monday, July 05, 2010
Woo! Heavy heavy post ahead peeps.
To say that the past seven days have been emotionally tumultuous would be a serious understatement. I feel like I need to just write it all down and get it all out of my head so that I can deal with everything, and prepare for what changes may or may not be coming but I don't really know where to begin. I guess I can start with the fight.
Last Tuesday night, while I was making dinner, my husband and I got into a huge fight. I don't even know if huge is even big enough to describe it. I was madder than I think I've ever been in my whole life. I think that, even if it were only for a minute or two, I honestly think that I could have beat my husband to death with my bare hands. I was filled with rage.
I told him to leave, and he refused, so I said I was leaving. He mocked me and said I wouldn't leave, so I started to grab my toothbrush and deodorant and stuff. The whole time we're still screaming at each other. Finally he told me that he knew I wasn't serious about leaving, because if I was really going to leave I would have done it already. Yeah. Nail in the coffin buddy. I left and didn't come home until the next morning, when we resumed arguing like there had never been a break. Finally, exhausted, I collapsed into bed where I cried for several hours, then slept for several hours, then cried some more.
At that point I didn't know what was going to happen. I felt hopeless and alone and I just wanted to die. I also hadn't eaten since lunch the day before and my face hurt from all the crying. I didn't want anything except my baby, who of course did not want to hang out in bed with me. This was a very low point.
As it started to get late, I realized that it was going to be July first. Then I started to think, gee, usually by the first of the month I've started my period. So then I start to feel panicky, and I grab my phone because I have a cycle tracker app on there. I open it up and it flashes SIX DAYS LATE.
Holy crap y'all.
So then of course I start to freak out completely, because this is NOT supposed to happen. I was "one and done" and had paid a lot of money to make sure things happened that way!!! Add to that the stress of spending the last forty eight hours thinking that maybe my marriage might be over, and now I might be pregnant too? Trainwreck. That's pretty much the only way to describe my emotional state.
Obviously, me being me there was no way I could sleep after making that realization. I just laid there in bed crying and feeling sorry for myself and worrying about everything and anything. I thought of a million reasons why I might be late besides pregnancy and a million reasons why that was the ONLY reason. Finally at about four in the morning I finally got up and went to go shower. Then I drove my butt down to the Walmarts (thank you Jesus for a 24 hour store!) to buy a pregnancy test. I needed to know for sure. I also bought some Reese's cups, because I still hadn't eaten yet. I ate one of those on the way home.
Of course, once I got home then I realized I didn't have to go to the bathroom so I spent the next hour and a half chugging water. Finally, it was time and I took the test. Of course, I was totally being cheap when I was there in the aisle and got the store brand for $4. It was one of the dinky ones with the pink lines, so I found myself sitting there going Is it a Line? Or Not?
Pretty sure it was a line.
I woke up my husband and showed him the test and immediately burst into tears. Hey, you want to know the best way to get your husband to finally apologize and admit that he was being a big jerk and was totally out of line? I don't know if "give him a positive pee stick" is one of them, but it has to be up there ladies.
Anyway, I had my doubts about the cheap test so I had him go out and buy one of the expensive digital ones. It told me the same thing as the cheap one. It said "You dummy, you should have bought a lottery ticket because that 99.9% effective IUD that you paid so much for? Yeah, it was pretty worthless. SURPRISE!!!"
I called my OB, and I ended up having to go in for an ultrasound that afternoon. They wanted to check and see if the iud was where it was supposed to be, and it was. They also said that all my parts looked fine and healthy. I went in the next morning to my OB and had the stupid device removed. They also took blood and confirmed the pregnancy with a urine test. Then came the fun news:
I would have to go the long weekend not knowing if this was a viable pregnancy or not. Because of the iud, there was more risk for complications early on. I might have spotting because of the device being removed, or it could be that I was losing the baby. It might be a chemical pregnancy. It might be ectopic. Since I was so early for the ultrasound (only 5 weeks) it was too early to see anything so no one could know. I would have to wait four days to take another blood test to check if my hormone levels were going up the way they should to see if I was really and truly pregnant.
You guys, if someone had told me a week ago that I would be having a baby in nine months and would be looking forward to it, I would have laughed in their faces and told them to lay off the crackpipe. Yet here I find myself, fervently praying that this is a baby and that it will be okay. We can't really afford medical bills at all, and our apartment is too small, and I don't know if there even really is one, but I already love that baby so much. Isn't it funny how that happens?
I'm so scared. I'm terrified that I'm going to go in, and they're going to tell me that it was all a false alarm. I tell myself not to worry, because this is obviously something that is not in my control. I feel like God was laughing at me all those times that I stated for a "fact" that I was done having babies because He knew that it wasn't up to me. OCD is so much about control, and getting better is about realizing that you DON'T have control, you can't possibly, not over everything, not even over all the things that you think you do. If this hasn't been a huge giant lesson on that, I don't know what is. It's not My Plan, it's God's Plan. I have to remember that.
So I'm sitting here, and knowing I need to go to bed, but also knowing that my brain is nowhere near being ready to shut down for the night. My husband's been nicer to me, obviously, but I did make him put in a call to our church about counseling. Now we know why I got so mad at least. Loss of control like that is a scary feeling.
Tomorrow, things change. I'll be praying for sure, and maybe if you're the praying sort, you can send a few my way as well.
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