Staring at the white wall from my bed, trying to focus on the texture, knowing that the slightest bit of movement will cause another vomit reaction. I quickly shift over to my other side once the nausea dies down just a tad to see my daughter Olivia staring right back. She is once again lying-in bed all day with me because I don’t have the strength to pick her up for a change of scenery. Each attempted time to stand up and walk to get her formula from the kitchen, feels like I am walking down a forever hallway exhausted at my wits end about to pass out. Pregnancy has always been tough for me, but this was a whole new intensified level. It finally came to a point where I needed to admit, “I NEED HELP!” I had to waive the white flag, accept that I couldn’t care for my daughter properly on my own, and reach out for help. I felt like shit at first doing that. I felt defeated and incapable. My first go-to person on my list of course was my husband, Daniel. Makes sense, right? He’s Olivia’s dad and lives with us, so logically why not?
He did his very best to help me and some. But slowly
disagreements came creeping in. I wasn’t understanding that he not only is
working full time but now coming home to care for a wife and a disabled child.
And I don’t just mean emotionally. I mean like he was helping to bathe me, make
dinner, and clean. It soon became too much for the both of us. We had to
explore other options, we had to explore what help could look like in other
forms or people. I reached out to family and thank God for them! My mother,
brother, and mother-in-law would switch off every day in coming to help care
for Olivia and myself. It was such a stress reliver once I finally let them in.
Fast forward 6 months later and now my brother is Olivia’s official in home provider/caretaker licensed through the state. Watching their relationship blossom has been
one of the many benefits I get to see on the sidelines. It wasn’t easy asking
for help but if I knew it would lead to where we are now, man I would’ve asked
a long time ago. Blindly trusting is one of the hardest things I continue to
learn each and every day. The nausea phase is finally over, and I learned so
much through it. We are now focused on the different ways help can look for our
family. With another one on the way (IT’S A GIRL!) that need will only increase
but we’re ready.
