The reality of my past 10 weeks

We have made it (well, almost). On Monday we will officially be 37 weeks pregnant and full term. (Little baby, did you hear that? You can come out whenever you're ready, 'cause Mama is dying to leave this house!)

My updates have been frequent at times and few and far between on other occasions. Most of them have had a positive spin... but the reality of my past 10 weeks has not been so rosy.

So, what has my reality been?

Lots of this...

Me lying around with my giant belly

Not enough of this...

For you sticklers out there, I've been doing NONE of this...

No need for wearing these...

Except for the rare occasion when I sneak down the elevator to the cafe in my building

Lots of wishing I were out there...

Mom and Kesh playing outside in our apartment complex's garden

The truth is that the past 10 weeks have been extremely stressful. 

I went from an invasive abdominal surgery at 27 weeks, to pre-term labor at 31 weeks, to pre-term labor again at 33 weeks (this time with an overnight in the hospital), to peaking blood pressure problems at 35 weeks... A possible premature birth with a NICU stay threatening us at every turn. 

Where we started all of this at around 27 weeks

During all of this Arturo's cousin had a baby who died just a few days after being born. No one told me, I found out on my own. This brought on a night of crying and reoccurring nightmares (probably why no one told me, right?).

My inability to clean my home, cook a meal for my family, bathe my child, or be helpful in any way has been overwhelming in a very negative way. One never realizes how humbling (and depressing) it is to be completely reliant on others. Useless and a burden (could someone bring me a glass of water please?! I mean, really!). Thankfully many people helped out, including our amazing housekeeper Blanquita has swooped in to save the day helping me with my grocery shopping, cleaning up after our busy bee toddler (daily!), and filling in with other odd tasks as needed.

One of Blanquita's many amazing food shopping trips for us.

I have insomnia (probably from sitting around on my ever-growing rear end all day... I even sweat when I talk on the phone now). If I happen to wake up at some point in the night I am guaranteed to stay awake for at least 2 hours, if not for the rest of the night. And forget coffee to help me get through the next day. I have limited myself to one weak cup per day due to my blood pressure issues. 

I dread my toddler coming home in the afternoons, not because I don't think she's amazing or love spending time with her, but because I know that what she really wants to do is run wild and be outdoors... I can give her neither of those things. I can only offer to participate in quiet, indoor activities of which she grows tired after an hour or so. 

I fear having another operation, and have way too much time to think about it. Epidurals hurt (if you say they don't, you're lying!). Having your body completely sliced open also hurts, and is intimidating. I have contemplated writing a living will and Arturo and I have even had conversations about what to do with my body if I die (don't get on my case about being negative, I think it's prudent). I fear another recuperation period where I have massive amounts of stitches. I'm not squeamish, but really, the whole abdominal surgery thing is gross and painful, and I am totally over it.

How could this NOT hurt?!

This will be our last baby. I am having my tubes tied during my c-section (heck they throw it in for free here if you're already paying for the c-section! La yapa!). I feel like a failure for not having a single vaginal birth. I know this happens to a lot of women, but it still doesn't make the feeling go away or less real. I'm sure I will eventually get over it, but for now there is this gaping whole in my maternal life where I was incapable of pushing them out as nature intended me to.

I fear what is to come with two children. I know people do it all the time, but our little family suffered greatly after Kesha was born and our attempt to figure out how to live life with a child, and undiagnosed postpartum depression, almost split us apart. I have nightmares about this happening again, but just have to remember that communication, honestly, and transparency will help push us through the hurdles that are yet to come.

I have broken down in my useless state (and borderline completely insane mental state) more times that I can mention (including at least one doctor's appointment... uh oh, here comes the crazy lady again!). In honor of taking no personal responsibility for anything I will blame the doctors... a pregnant lady on bed rest and hormone supplements with a two year old? You're asking for it!

Even though I'm constantly walking an emotional tightrope, for the most part I have held it together fairly well. Moments have been tough, but I've had people by my side supporting me the entire time. 

First, and the person who has bore most of the weight of all of this, is my husband. He has brought me breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, attended every single doctor appointment with me, taken Kesha to daycare and picked her up afterward, picked up where I left things with our business, and basically run our entire household and company for the last 10 weeks.

My mother, who took 2.5 weeks off of work to fly down to Ecuador and be with me so I didn't jump out the window of our apartment because in my batty state from being alone in this apartment day in and day out. It's not easy to travel to another country. It's even more difficult to travel to another country where you don't speak the language well. To stay in someone else's home where the stress levels are high because of a complicated medical issue (she even spent her second night here in Ecuador with me in the hospital!)... all of this is difficult. From entertaining me, to entertaining our toddler, to taking her to school, feeding her, playing with her, taking her to the park, and attending a birthday party completely in Spanish, my mom did it all for us! She will be back in June for another 3.5 week stint to help me with both girls since I will be alone with 2 children while Arturo travels with our summer student groups (at least I will be able to leave the house!!!).

My mom's photo of my overly filling hospital meal.
Don't put too much on that plate guys, it's not like I'm pregnant or anything. 

My father, brother, and future sister-in-law for listening to my emergency stories and endless complaints  calmly and with empathy!

Arturo's family here in Cuenca for sending me lunch daily, coming to visit, accompanying me to the doctor, and visiting me in the hospital.

My friends, both here and abroad, for entertaining me during my infinite state of boredom, coming to see me in my home, helping me cook meals for my family so we could eat something other than leftovers or bread and eggs.

Lastly, I should acknowledge my own successes. This is the hardest acknowledgment to make because I feel personally responsible for many of the issues that have arisen (I intellectually comprehend the fact that I had little control over much of this, but that doesn't keep the feelings from arising). But I need to take personal responsibility for the fact that we have almost made it to term and that I was one of the only people who could actually make that happen by following instructions and staying put.

Someone told me that bed rest is one of the hardest things someone will ever have do, especially with a toddler. Without my own sacrifices, efforts, awareness of my own body, or ability to reach out and ask for help and push through this, we could have easily had an early delivery and many issues with a premature baby. So, here's to me!

Within the next two weeks we will officially become a family of 4 and look forward to adding a healthy full-term baby girl to our already wonderfully crazy family!

We did it. I did it. I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.