A little bitching and a dash of moaning with a sprinkling of positive mixed in.

I have to write this post in short snatches.

Why?

Because I have not been able to go more than 10 minutes without tossing my cookies.

With my previous 3 pregnancies, I suffered from hyperemesis.

(Basic “Loralee” definition of hyperemesis: Nausea and vomiting in some pregnant women that kicks the ass of “normal” morning sickness. It entails severe and devoted praying to the porcelain god to the extent that it often renders the host of the developing fetus completely immobile *except when retching* and it is often accompanied by severe dehydration/malnourishment. Hospitalization is common and I have ended up there a lot because of it. It often lasts the entire pregnancy. Which has been the case for me each time. Super, super awesome, no?)

I was really hoping that this time it wouldn’t happen.  I would be spared. Somehow, I miracle would occur and I would just glow and gestate and go “Whee!” in a good way for 9 months.

And you know what?

I’ve been pretty ok in this area. I have thrown up and felt queasy, but it hasn’t been bad. Still…I didn’t get too hopeful because I am (as usual) backassward and do not really get sick until towards the end of my first trimester.  It always goes down the same way: I get tired, stressed, blah, blah, blah and there may be some queasiness and throwing up but it’s not bad. Then towards the end of the first trimester and completely out of the blue; it hits.

One moment I am fine and the next I am so sick I feel like I’m dying.

It’s not “just throwing up” because usually it is so often I don’t have anything left to come up or it’s just horrible bile. I heave so hard that I can’t breathe and my stomach contracts so painfully that it’s brutal. I usually end up sobbing, heaving and trying to breathe all at the same time . Then I lay on the floor of the bathroom (if I make it that far) to try and recover until I can get up and crawl back to bed. Where I usually stay because movement brings on more barfing.

Repeat this process, usually within 15 minutes.

More often than not it is EVERY 15 minutes.

It is like this almost constantly.  Every day. And it stays that way until the baby is delivered.

As I said, I have had some throwing up with this little one, but at 19 weeks I was beginning to think that this baby would be a different ball game. For which I was extremely thankful.

The last 24-hours?

Have made me fearful that may not be the case.

One minute I was ok, and then it hit. I started violently vomiting and has not stopped.

It feels exactly the same as my earlier pregnancies.  I do not have any other signs of illness, I have not eaten any food that is contaminated, no one around me has been ill that I know of.

Have you ever actually prayed for something to be food poisoning?  Because I have been today.

I did manage to take my boys to see “Bolt”. It was not an easy task but we don’t go to the movies often and the boys worked so hard to go and I couldn’t disappoint them.  I sat on the aisle so that I could keep running to the bathroom, but the boys had such a good time it was worth it.

I’m also apprehensive because Jonathan is out of town for a week and I don’t know what this is going to turn into. (Please let it be a stomach bug, PLEASE?). If I can’t get some kind of control over this and manage to keep some kind of fluid down, I could easily end up needing to get IV fluids in the hospital or a clinic before he gets home. It’s not going so great in that category but I’m doing everything I can.

It’s also just hard to be here so alone, in charge of kids and so damn sick.

I know this blog has been a pretty depressing place to hang out in lately and I’m sorry about that. I AM STILL OVER THE MOON TO BE EXPECTING AND DO NOT REGRET IT. I am thankful everything is going as well as it is. I am thankful my body is able to produce children. I am grateful I’m still here. I’m grateful beyond words for all the support and love and information that has come FROM YOU WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL PEOPLE after the shock of finding out I am not covered by insurance.

But along with all that gratitude, I also am having a pretty miserable stretch and well? This is my place to come to.

HOWEVER.

I know it can be a lot and I don’t want to keep bitching and moaning all the time with no light in the tulgy woods. I am also trying to be more positive for ME and my health and the baby’s. I have pretty much gotten a big, fat, “FAIL” in terms of keeping most of my New Year Resolutions, so I am determined to keep the one that is the most important to me (being more positive) and come up with 3 good things RIGHT NOW before I barf again.

POSITIVE NUMBER ONE:

Well, the biggest one is that THIS MAY GO AWAY.  I have to keep hoping for that, I am just fearful after three times of it and well…it feels the same.  BUT STILL!!!! IT MAY!!!!! And? If it turns out that this doesn’t ease up it may be that if I can’t have insurance to cover any costs related to this pregnancy, I may be able to get financial help to afford Zofran from the drug company that makes it.  Zofran is a miracle drug that was developed for chemo patients. (Yes, the vomiting is as severe and horrible with hypermesis). It is the only thing that stops my vomiting but it is hella expensive like you can’t believe. I am not positive if the manufacture has a program like this, but it is common for drug companies to cut the costs of expensive medications when you aren’t covered by insurance.

POSITIVE NUMBER TWO:

I had the best, the very, very BEST DAY EVER right before this hit.

I went to Salt Lake with my friend, Chelle and we went and spent the day in the most amazing spa. We have been planning it for some time, but because of everything that happened and because it was not cheap, I thought about canceling. However, they would have charged us 50% and I desperately needed to escape and stress down, so? We went.

It was freaking amazing, people.I have never been so pampered in my entire life.  There was a person in the hall that went into my personal dressing room after each time I used it to refold the toilet paper into a point. I actually would not have been surprised if someone came in to offer to wipe my ass. The service was THAT good.

I had a 90-minute pregnancy massage (I got to lay on my tummy again! Relief!) and a 75-minute facial.

I have been a fan of massage for years.  It is the best, the very best pain relief and mood elevator for me.  I wish I could afford to have one every week.  As for the facial, well! Have you ever had an honest to goodness facial?  I never have and could have never imagined how good it would feel.

I get a little teary recalling when we checked out. Chelle surprised me by giving me the massage as my Christmas gift.  I can’t decide which was more amazing and generous- that or her being there to listen and try to help as I barfed bile up my nose. (I AM sure that picking up part of tab was probably far more appealing for her, certainly.)

I came out of there feeling so damn good. So much more at peace and with so much less anxiety.

Then we went to sushi with two of my favorite people: my sister Linny and my sister-in-law, Nancy. I love these two. We had the best time.  I laughed so hard, I think I undid a lot of the good from my massage. I adore and appreciate the fact that they walk the earth and are my family.

Even the 2-hour drive drive home was awesome.

I started getting really sick right as we pulled up to my house and actually threw up when I got out of the car.  As I said, it happens, so I wasn’t too concerned. I told Chelle goodbye and that it had been a 10 out of 10 day.  THEN, I went inside to discover my sweet mom and taken down my tree and put the ornaments away while I was gone! There was also homemade bread on the counter, people. HOMEMADE BREAD. For those not in the know? Homemade bread is the bee’s knees.  Manna from heaven. My day sky rocked to a bonafide 12.

I munched on some bread and got ready for bed and it hit FULL FORCE. The barfing started and has.not.stopped.

(Side note: everyone else had what I ate for dinner and the bread and they are fine. It isn’t something I ate.)

Still, though…if this is to be one of my last days to feel well? It’s a pretty damn good way to go, ya know?

And finally?

POSITIVE NUMBER THREE:

I AM NOT PARIS HILTON’S NEW “BFF”.

Because, really?

Barfing bile up through my nose just sounds more appealing.