So, to say the blog has been on hiatus would be a bit of an understatement. It’s been dead and buried. Buried under a mound of pain, exhaustion and illness. Buried under a house move, pregnancy and just trying to claw a little energy to be ‘alive’. Alive beyond just breathing and existing, alive enough to maybe actually participate in life.
Is it too much to ask to be able to go a day without needing four hours plus sleep? To be able to walk more than a a few meters without feeling my legs buckle beneath me? To not have stomach cramps so severe I feel like I’m about to faint, vomit and soil myself all at once? To eat a meal without feeling like I’ve been punched in the stomach?
At the moment yes, it very much is.
The only thing getting me through is knowing (hoping) this is all for a good cause. All this suffering (I hope) is just temporary whilst I build my precious baby. Afterwards I’ll just be back to my usual level of ailments.
But I won’t. I know I won’t. Certain parts of my body have been stretched and shunted by the pregnancy. Leaving them the wrong shape, or in the wrong place. Thanks to my faulty collagen no amount of exercising will pull them taught, re sit joints in place. Some of this I’ll have to live with. Some can be fixed with an op. An op that most surgeons don’t want to do, due to poor wound healing, that may flare my other conditions even further.
On top of that there’s the fact that I never ever get back to where I was. If/when I come out of a flare I’m always a good few paces behind where I was health wise. I never quite catch up with myself. This time, it’s not just a flare, it’s a pregnancy. At the end of which will be either a labour or c section. Both of which are traumatic. I wonder how far behind I’ll be this time?
Who knows. But as hard as this is, I do not regret my decision. Because a broken heart means more room to love my family, and a hard and painful life means more strength to teach and protect them. That is worth going through anything for.