By now my timeline for having more babies was all out of wack. I had it all planned out that I wanted three years apart between each child. When we first got married, we had dreamt up how many kids we would have. We had always wanted a large family and thought five would be nice but we made a deal that if they were all girls, than we would try for a boy and go for six kids. After my first pregnancy, my body didn’t take it very well ( I had a worse case of PUPPPS ) and so we decided to take one baby at a time but secretly we had hoped that our dreams for a larger family would still play out. The timeline was now off which added to the frustration of not getting my life back or at least know what was going on.
I started to ask the question to the doctors, specialists, and pelvic floor physiotherapists and well, pretty much any practitioner that was involved in my care, if they thought I’d be able to have more kids. The first time I asked this question was back when I had seen the specialist at the private clinic. He replied with, “You have two beautiful daughters and let’s just focus on that.” His reply wasn’t quite enough for me and kind of made me feel a little panicked and so I asked him again. “You think I’ll be able to have kids once I get this thing figured out though right?” He again told me that I shouldn’t focus on things that I couldn’t do at the moment and to focus on the things that I could. I felt upset with his words and wrestled with them for some time. I thought that since I didn’t have a diagnosis yet, I didn’t have a definitive answer to my question.
When I started seeing “M,” I asked her that question too. She told me that she didn’t think it would be possible and advised against it. She went on to tell me that my accident was the perfect storm and now if I was to be invited to go for something like a hike with friends, my body wouldn’t be able to handle it and so my reply would be,“ I’ll meet you at the coffee shop at the bottom of the mountain.” Not quite what I wanted to hear either. It was around this time that we figured out that my body couldn’t even handle things like opening the fridge or car door without having to brace myself. I just wasn’t stable enough.
There had been many theories that were tossed around. One being that my body was trapped in a protective mode from trying to protect my baby. There were other phrases like “you’ve got pelvic girdle pain.” Another idea was either a herniated disc or bulged disc. Others thought maybe it was my endometriosis. Some said maybe the combo of chronic pain mixed with endometriosis. I heard things like you’ve got trapped fascia and it’s yanking things out of place. Whiplash issues. Neuropathic pain. Your body is trapped in the flight or fight mode. These all were clues but no solid answer. My heart was aching to get better so that I could carry on with my life and be able to expand our family some more.
My girls kept on asking for a baby. It became this constant question that they asked and hoped for. Their little prayers always had a squeezed in request that, “Momma would get better so that she can have a baby.” Brandon had said a few comments too about having another one. My heart ached for a baby too and seeing the girl’s baby photos and old family videos, just made that ache feel even deeper.
I have struggled with my mobility and so often times, walking long periods is too much and some days all I can really handle is a little walk down the street and back. Sitting too long is too much and standing too long is too much too. It’s this balancing act of a dance between sitting and standing. I can’t run or ride a bike. The bike thing has especially been a big wound and I still dream of the day that we will be able to go for a family bike ride. I’m not sure why that is such a huge thing but I used to dream up this whole day before I even had kids. I dreamt of owning a vintage style turquoise bike with a basket and having us all riding our bikes in a row. That day has never come for me. The girls were too little to ride bikes before I got in my accident.
I haven’t been able to go ice skating or play in the snow and go sledding. Or take them up the ski hill. There have been many milestones that I had wanted to do with my girls and family and for the longest time and as selfish as this may sound, I was holding onto it all. I didn’t want them to do any of those things without me and thought that if they just held out on these activities for just a bit longer, I’d get better and then I’d be there for all of their firsts. After awhile, the issue became bigger and Brandon helped me realize that I had to let that all go. I was holding them back.
It has been really hard letting these things all go. Especially because these types of activities are what draws a family together and where precious experiences and memories are formed. I’m often left out or stay behind at home while Brandon and the girls get to enjoy these activities together. We’ve talked about maybe buying me some sort of fashionable scooter, so that I could at least tag along and be apart of a biking or walking activity. My goal is still to fight hard and get my body to the point where I will be able to ride a bike again and I cling to that hope.
Of course, because I am unable to do active activities regularly, I gain weight. On top of that, I have different medications that say in the side effects section, “may cause weight gain,” which unfortunately they do have this effect on me. This has been a tough one. Sometimes I’ve even contemplated not taking these medications because my mental health of gaining weight has caused a lot of inner turmoil. I explained a little bit about this in a few posts back and how I often feel really self conscious about how my body looks, like most women do. This has opened my eyes to see even more of what a messed up society we live in when we base so much on a person’s weight. We should be extending grace and no judgment at all, we don’t know her story or struggles. I think most of us know how much media plays into the idea of what a woman’s body should look like, and it automatically becomes this radar button inside of us, programmed to define what beauty is and if we don’t fall in between those lines of expectation...than you are not in the standard of pretty, healthy, fit, desirable and the list goes on and on. As most women are, I am very hard on myself based on my body’s status. It really does make me sad at how much we base our worth on media lead propaganda.
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