2.02.2021

She Kept Going

 Sometimes I feel like my life is some dramatic, weird story πŸ™ˆπŸ˜‚ when I would really be fine with it being a normal, boring story. But let's face it. Where's the fun in being "normal"?! Or at least that's what I tell myself... πŸ˜‰

This last October, after losing another baby and pretty desperately needing stability in my life again, I went back on the "miracle" medicine that had brought so much peace into my life before. I was more than ready to get back to a good place and to work on gaining strength before wanting to try for a baby again this spring. But this time, the medicine didn't work the same.

I became incredibly anxious, to the point that my muscles would tense up and make my arm and leg randomly go numb, which only served to increase my anxiety to an unbearable level as I wondered what was happening to me. I tried to tell myself that this was normal and was just my body's reaction to starting the medicine again, but it kept happening. I also tried to tell myself that the anxiety was caused by counseling as we dug into really hard, painful things. But after more than two months, nothing had improved, and the constant worry paired with the feeling that I couldn't breathe or function normally made me finally reach out to my doctor. I was terrified of what he would think or if he would still believe me. Thankfully, he is not like that, and I was really just crazy anxious about that too.

At my appointment, he mentioned how something must have changed in this process. We remembered how when I switched from the one month supply of the birth control to the three month supply, just before going off to try to have a baby, the brand had changed. Everything else was exactly the same, but the brand was different. When we realized this, I immediately felt something so comforting inside of me that maybe there was a reason for this unexpected reaction and that things could improve without having to start all over with trying to figure out what to do next.

A few days later, I took my normal one week break that I take every three months and then switched to the new medicine. Unfortunately, all of these hormonal changes threw me into the deep trenches of what I call "suicidal hell." I suddenly didn't think I could make it. I didn't want to be here anymore. And even worse, I didn't want to tell anyone. I thought I had to be gone this time. I was so discouraged and frustrated and sad. I couldn't foresee things getting better and felt no hope for my future. It was like the darkness was caving in and swallowing me whole, and I was all alone in fighting it.

One day, a good friend let me into her home and somehow asked the right question that broke through my silent darkness and allowed me to share my very honest feelings. I was so scared that no one could love me anymore like this, but she reassured me of her love and encouraged me to open up to more people. I told a couple more people in my close circle and felt the comfort of loving family and friends in my life again.

I continued to struggle deeply for days, reaching out for help when I needed it and spending time with people constantly, until the darkness began to part and let the light in again. The light has been increasing slowly each day, so I think the old brand is working, and that really was the problem. 🀞

We also found out during this time that the surgery I had hoped would give me a better chance of having a healthy, living baby is not a possibility for me. I'm not ready to try again any time soon, but I'm holding out hope that our family will still be able to grow one more time.

So there you have it. Everything you didn't need to know, but you do now πŸ˜† You're welcome.

I hope someday the summary of my life story can be condensed into three words, "She kept going."

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