The other day I was rearranging things in our medicine cabinet when I came across the prescription for Promethazine. I picked up that prescription from the pharmacy exactly one year ago today. I was hopeful that it would solve all my problems but, alas, it did not. Through the day that I delivered Quincy, I battled sickness; I’ll never compare it to those with hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) but it was debilitating and there were many days that I cried while sitting in the bathroom floor.
Truth be told, I was hopeful that my second pregnancy would be a better experience than the first, and in some ways it was (I didn’t pass out or end up in an ambulance…) but the severe illness seemed about the same, if not worst.
If you know me personally, you know that I lost a good amount of weight and that I do not enjoy the process that is pregnancy. If I could skip from conception to labor, I would do it in a heartbeat. But, I won’t deny the blessing that comes from being able to carry your child; I fell in love with her the second I saw that positive test. I prayed often for her and that her and I would be healthy and though at times it felt as though I could keep nothing down, we survived.
People often say they’re surprised we had a second after hearing about the trauma that was my first pregnancy but it was all worth it because we now have two beautiful children who we get to love and raise with hope the that they love Christ and share in our joy. And though my husband is convinced two is enough, there’s no guarantee that in a few years, I won’t be ready to do it all again.