Monday, June 22, 2015

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.  1 Corinthians 13:13

We met in 1993 through a mutual friend. We became friends instead of boyfriend and girlfriend. Years went by and we stayed close, but not so distant. He was there for the baby shower of my first born; gave the father of my child and me over a hundred dollars as a gift.

He was involved with someone, and I was too. We still kept in touch to see how each other was doing and how was the family. He never mentioned he had a girlfriend, but I mentioned, I had someone. Years went by and I happened to look in my Facebook inbox and see a message from him saying, “Hey call me.” I replied, “OK, give me a second, but first, “What’s your number”?

From then came the not-so-magical sparks. All I could think about was, what does Paul want with me? Why is he inbox me and want my number? What is so darn important? All I could do is laugh, and say to myself, I know what this fool is all about.

All of my worries came to an end on July 29, 2014 when we got married and vowed to love through sickness and health.  Through sickness and health, I shall repeat for all once again. Before we got married, we talked about kids, I explained to him my struggles and even the struggle with my very own daughter. He understood and BAM I get pregnant before we got married. Not once, but twice.

The first time was planned, but unexpected (go figure). It was in April 2013. Now let me take you all back to what’s about to happen, I have hyperemesis gravidarum. This is a condition in which a mother can conceive a child but has difficulty in carrying a child. This condition can be life threatening as well. For me it was. I have been pregnant a total of seven times before him, many of those pregnancies ending in either it was a miscarriage or an abortion. Was the abortion by choice, yes and no, it was a decision I had to make due to my condition. Hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) symptoms are crucial and unbearable at times. I would start to get sick at four to five weeks of conception and then just go downhill from there. I couldn’t eat, drink, or even stand the smell of my very own self. I would throw up until I started to see blood dripping in my very own vomit.

The pregnancy advanced and the sickness began. We went to the doctors, they didn’t offer me anything, I wasn’t eating, drinking, and if I tried, it came back up in seconds. I couldn’t take it, the doctors didn’t want to help, I was miserable, couldn’t stand who I was as a person, and just wanted out, even if it meant, death. This condition plays 60% on the mind and the rest physically.

I explained this all to my husband, and he understood, at least I thought he did.

I started bleeding and landed in the emergency room. My husband had to return home to retrieve his wallet, leaving me alone with the doctors. The doctors advised me that I had a high chance of losing the baby because I was bleeding and they could only find a vague heartbeat. I called my husband to explain, to tell him that I couldn’t do this anymore. He was furious, mad, pissed off, didn’t want to talk to me, he thought I was killing his first child. I thought he understood my condition, but truly, he didn’t. He blamed me for everything, even going as far as to accuse me of sleeping with someone on the side. I was already down about what was going on, feeling alone and like crap inside, but keeping it hidden with a smile each and every day.

Two weeks passed and it was time to talk. He still wasn’t trying to hear it, everything was my fault, “Why did I do that? Why him? Was it someone else’s baby and not his?” I was getting tired of being the bad guy when I had already explained my condition. I understand he never saw anything like this, but that’s not my fault.  He finally calmed down, but still didn’t understand.

We search for solutions, but they all seemed so one-sided; I was told to get my tubes tied, because I was the one with the issues not him. This was all coming from my soon-to-be husband. He calmed down and apologized, but I knew he was still hurt, this was his first time having a child at 40 years of age and by someone he truly loved.  Not to mention he’s an only child.

We worked to get over this hurdle and things were getting back to normal. It was time to start planning our wedding. Months passed and we are living a beautiful life once again and I get pregnant again. You ask why not use protection? Well, I have high blood pressure and at my age, no doctor will give me pills with this condition. I can’t do hormones, it makes me sick, so we used the ovulation method and had sex when I wasn’t ovulating.

We prayed that this will be the one, but the sickness started immediately. The nausea, the vomiting, it all came back. This time the doctor gave me medication, but none of it worked at all. I was back in the hospital, IV in my arm and a different medication that didn’t ease the sickness. I was sent home and started to get sick all over again. A few days later, I ended up aborting.

The reason why was different this time; I went to sleep and stopped breathing. I saw something bright and thought my husband was telling me to come towards him. He explained I wasn’t breathing for a few moments. I woke up and knew it was a sign. My body just can’t take this anymore. This medical condition has gotten to my body and won’t allow me to carry a baby at all.

Now, I’m about to get married to a man who has no children and is 40. What do I do? I cried most nights, thinking that he would leave me, find someone else who can carry his child, because I couldn’t do so.  But that’s not what he did. He married me; he came to understand that he didn’t want to lose his wife, that my condition was life threatening. He knew he was going be there through thick and thin, through sickness and health. I was the one regardless of not be able to have the one thing he always wanted. He did end up with the best wife ever and a great friend.

We’ve decided that my daughter is all the kid we need. We both decided that we don’t want kids, and my daughter is enough. We can now cruise the world, complete the goals we always wanted to complete and just love each other infinitely.

This was truly hard for me to share, because the pain is fresh and brings back memories. Often I would question myself, I’m a woman, why can’t I have a child and why did God punish me? No, he didn’t punish me, he gave me a beautiful daughter who I love more than anything. I almost lost her as well, but God granted my wishes and she was born healthy and on time. 

To learn more about hyperemesis gravidarum, please visit the American Pregnancy Association.


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