A Little Moore

So, it’s been quite a while since we updated our little blog and believe me, we have good reasons.  I will earnestly try to keep up more with the blog in the coming months/years because we will have plenty to share with the world, I am sure.

Since last we checked in here we’ve been through quite a lot, some of it very, very good and some of it very, very bad.

For a few months Mr. Moore and I were routinely poked and prodded by doctors who ultimately told us that our dream of having a family would not be easily achieved.  This is something that was very stressful and difficult for us.  We spent many sleepless nights contemplating things, and perhaps one day when I am feeling brave I will write more about our struggles, but it is not something that was easy to face and is definitely not something that is easy to share with The Internet.

But, just as the doctors decided it was time to try “other methods”, we got the most wonderful Valentine’s Day gift ever when we found out on the morning of February 14th that we were going to be parents.

I often waver in my feelings about God and Higher Powers, but it is hard to think about our situation and not see that Someone had a hand in how our story played out.  But, that is, again, a thought I am not yet brave enough to talk about on The Internet…

We thought about immediately writing about our wonderful Valentine, but things were far too delicate to talk about.  We shared the news with immediate family and friends who knew of our struggles, and we were so incredibly overjoyed to finally know that our little family was getting bigger.

But, the joy was soon overcome by completely debilitating illness.  In my early weeks when I had just a small white dot on an ultrasound image to call my Baby, I wished for symptoms so that I knew everything was going according to plan.  Now I wish I could have taken those wishes back.  Right at the 6 week mark I started feeling constantly nauseated.  Soon the nausea was accompanied by vomiting.  And it was about a week after the nausea started that we realized this was more than normal Morning Sickness.

I was diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG).  Which is basically Really Really Terrible Morning Sickness.  And… just so you are all aware, “morning sickness” is a very misleading name, most pregnant women prefer to call it “all day and night sickness.”  With HG, it became increasingly difficult to do even the smallest tasks and completely impossible to continue working.  Soon, I was ordered to bed rest by my doctor when he saw that my weight was dropping at an alarming rate.  I was sent to the ER on a few occasions so that I could receive IV fluids because I was severely dehydrated.

It was, in a word, awful.   I have described it as the worst experience of my life, and will stand by that description hopefully for the rest of my life.  I felt horrible and ill and not at all joyful.  It was a cruel twist of fate that the thing I wanted most ended up making me so miserable.

We tried anything we could to alleviate my symptoms, and nothing seemed to make a difference.  I worried constantly that I was doing harm to the tiny life growing inside of me, despite the constant reassurance from the doctors and nurses and various sources on the internet that our baby would be JUST FINE.

I also tried really hard to believe them when they said that the Second Trimester would bring Sweet Relief.  But, I could not imagine ever getting out of bed again.  I could not imagine ever eating again.  Or drinking a glass of water.  Everything made me sick.  Everything.

This is where I should talk about how amazing Mr. Moore was during this whole ordeal.  He was Amazing.  I tried to think of another adjective, but words fail to describe how lucky I am to have married this man.  We really tested the limits of “in sickness and in health” during my bout of HG.  Mr. Moore stayed up late with me as I was sick all over the upstairs part of our house, and then got up early to go to work the next day.  He ate take out in the car on his way home countless times, and then brushed his teeth immediately upon arriving home so no whiff of food would reach my delicate olfactory receptors.  He did not hesitate to go to the store at all hours when I thought I could maybe, possibly  stomach some mashed potatoes.  Then he did not scoff at me when I decided that, in fact, no, mashed potatoes were no longer acceptable and he needed to remove them from my line of vision as soon as humanly possible.  He comforted me and loved me when I was at my most vulnerable and I will never forget how lucky I am that He. Picked. Me. to love and cherish and have a family with.  I am crying while writing this… let’s blame the hormones.

As you may have guessed, there is a happy ending to this story.  Well, I guess we haven’t gotten to our true happy ending yet, but we got through the horrible part.  As sure as the sun rises, once I hit that second trimester, I started feeling better.  We shared the good news of our pregnancy with Facebook (i.e. the whole world) and the flood of well wishes and happy reactions we got made me feel like maybe I was pregnant after all and not just some bed ridden puking machine.  My appetite slowly began to return.  I was able to finally keep some foods down.  The number on the scale stopped dropping (who would have ever thought I’d be happy about THAT?!?).  My energy started to return.  And lo and behold, our little baby is doing just fine.

Now, I am still not completely “fixed” I still have to take some medicine to control the nausea and probably will continue taking it until the baby is born.  The doctors have also informed me that there is a strong likelihood that my HG will return to some degree during my Third Trimester.  But, I am mostly back to living life as usual.

Life as usual hasn’t included too much cooking lately, since I’m still a bit sensitive.  And, I guess life will never be “as usual” again with a baby on the way, but… you know what I mean.

So, that’s where we’ve been!

Now it’s May and our Little Moore is starting to make his or her presence known by swimming around in my belly at night and making my pants feel tight.  Soon we will have our big 20 week ultrasound and we will get our first really clear images of our baby.  But, we won’t know if it’s a boy or a girl until that moment in the delivery room.

As I said before, I will make an honest effort to keep this thing updated with posts and pictures and videos of my growing belly and (in about 23 weeks) with posts and pictures and videos of Little Moore.

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6 thoughts on “A Little Moore

  1. Pingback: Pink or Blue? « The Amazing Moores

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