Nine months after the miscarriage, we got pregnant again. I took about 6 tests before I told Rick, and we waited about 2 weeks before we told my parents. We told them not to say anything to anyone, because if we lost another baby, it would be easier the fewer people that knew. I was starting to dig my way out of the depression and found my smile again, but I was terrified that I would do something again that would make me loose the baby. Almost immediatly the morning/afternoon/evening/middle of the night sickness hit and kicked me in the butt. It was aweful. I was puking all the time, and when I say all the time, I mean ALL the time. When I went to see my OB/GYN I told her and she gave me meds to help with the vomiting, but it wonked me out so badly that I was a zombie on it, so no matter what I did, I was useless.
This pregnancy was really difficult from the begining and I knew that it wouldn't get any better. I tried as much as I could to play off my constant nausia to those around me and we kept the pregnancy a secret for a couple of months.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
What's next?
Just four months after we lost the baby, I got a call from CPS (child protective services) that they had picked up the kids from school and that we were under investigation for child abuse. Two months after that, our landlord came and told us that he and his wife were getting a divorce and that she was getting our house in the settlement, so we had to move out as immediately as possible.
Sometimes you ask yourself, "How much worse can it get?". Don't ever do that, because it always gets worse. In six months time, we had a miscarriage, lost custody of Rick's kids and were essentially homeless.
Fortunately, a week after finding out about our housing situation, the house NEXT door became available to rent, and we moved in. It was a nicer place and the rent was less. We were so happy, and since it wasn't that far, the move was really easy. Awesome!
We settled into our new house and life continued. I had a severe flare up with my RSD and required going back to physical therapy. That was actually a good thing, because I was at home all day, alone and was not dealing well with the solitude. At lease having to leave the house for an hour, three times a week forced me to get out of bed, shower and change my clothes.
The depression was lessening, but it was slow going. Rick was never home, so I was there alone to wallow in my own pity. Not good.
Sometimes you ask yourself, "How much worse can it get?". Don't ever do that, because it always gets worse. In six months time, we had a miscarriage, lost custody of Rick's kids and were essentially homeless.
Fortunately, a week after finding out about our housing situation, the house NEXT door became available to rent, and we moved in. It was a nicer place and the rent was less. We were so happy, and since it wasn't that far, the move was really easy. Awesome!
We settled into our new house and life continued. I had a severe flare up with my RSD and required going back to physical therapy. That was actually a good thing, because I was at home all day, alone and was not dealing well with the solitude. At lease having to leave the house for an hour, three times a week forced me to get out of bed, shower and change my clothes.
The depression was lessening, but it was slow going. Rick was never home, so I was there alone to wallow in my own pity. Not good.
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