Along for the Ride

The year 2021 was a rollercoaster ride full of high highs, low lows, twists, turns, jerks, jolts, and miles of loops. I feel I’ve lived years of life in those 365 days. There were days of celebration and joy, days of grief and sorrow, days of sickness and fear, days of gratitude and thanksgiving, and days of anxiety and depression. Some days were brighter than the brightest morning and other days were darker than the darkest night. My physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual health have experienced whiplash from the bumps, speed, and spontaneous forceful turns of this year. At the start of 2021, we had hopeful expectations after the disaster of a year that 2020 made for us. Honestly, we thought there was no where to go but up from that rock bottom. While things definitely got much better in some areas of life, things also got much worse in other areas. To truly get a good feel of the whiplash from 2021’s rollercoaster ride, it’s best to just start at the beginning and work our way through the end of the year’s ride.

The beginning of 2021 brought a long, dark, and lonely journey through those cold months. Not only was I in the middle of teaching through impossible COVID policies and the hardest school year in history, but my husband had begun studying day in and day out for the bar exam. He was in his own dark cave of bar prep while I was in my own lonely state of what felt like single mommying and working full time. My sweet husband tried to help when he had a moment, but most moments were spent drowning in study prep. I entered into a depression that only the Lord, prayer, counseling, and time could pull me out of. Things were rough in all areas of my life as I felt very alone, maneuvering through each day of teaching, mothering, and caretaking.

Yet through the stress of that time, we were still able to throw our sweet boy a birthday party for his second birthday. Our family was able to join and celebrate with us. But then my husband had to disappear again into the never ending bar prep while my family and I continued to celebrate. Lots of hills on that rollercoaster ride, bringing both joy and sadness in the same day.

Thankfully, the day finally arrived for my husband to take the two day bar exam. We were both so nervous. I barely slept the night before. I prayed for him all day as I tried to teach a class full of first graders. My nerves were on edge as I waited to hear about his first day of exams. When my phone rang that afternoon, however, it wasn’t my husband calling but rather my mom. School wasn’t even out yet but I answered anyways. My grandad had passed away just hours before. My husband was still taking the bar exam and would be gone until the exam finished the next day. My nerves were shot, but I had to push through for my students, my son, and my husband. I initially wanted to wait to inform my husband of my grandfather’s passing because I didn’t want to throw him off. But news traveled fast about his death and I had to share it with my husband after his long hard day of exams with another day ahead. Thankfully, he pushed through the next day, came home, then we packed up and headed out of town for the funeral. Not to mention, I had to write a tribute and speak at his funeral in front of hundreds of people. Talk about whiplash. From nervous for the exam, to not sleeping, to grieving, to relief the exam is over, to nervous about speaking, back to grief and relief. We made it back home and I literally couldn’t stop crying on and off all weekend. Whiplash.

For the next three months we waited in misery to find out the bar exam results. If he didn’t pass, we’d have to go through it all again. It was nice to finally spend time together, however. We actually played with our son together, ate together, watched tv together. It was a whole new world after four years of constant night classes and months of lifeless studying. Although we were anxiously awaiting the results, we were also enjoying each other’s presence and becoming a family again. Then finally the day came for the results and our rollercoaster ride started heading uphill. He had passed and we celebrated with so much joy and relief. It was definitely one of the best parts of our rollercoaster ride.

The joyous ride kept going higher as we finally were able to celebrate my dad’s Presidential Inauguration after a long COVID school year. It was so wonderful to see family and friends come from all over to celebrate my dad. Not to mention, we were still riding high from the bar exam news. It was also beautiful to have my grandma there after having just moved her up close to them and beginning to see her quickly decline. In fact, that was probably the last time she was out in the public eye for many to see. Such a bittersweet moment to listen to my dad thank her and talk about his dad in his presidential speech. Then back to celebrating his accomplishments and having hopeful expectations for his presidency. More whiplash.

But the rollercoaster kept riding higher as we ended the longest, hardest, darkest COVID school year and entered into a sunshiny summer of fun. Thankfully, our summer was full of nothing but high highs after the hardest teaching year in history on top of all the low lows on the way. We traveled, vacationed, visited family, and played with friends. Every visit to my parents’ house was full of swimming and summer fun with grandparents and cousins. We flew to Disney World and spent days in the happiest place on earth with our family. We vacationed on the beach with just us three to celebrate passing the bar exam. We spent more time with family in the mountains. And every day in between was spent soaking up the sun.

The summer ended with my husband’s law school graduation. Because of COVID, his graduation ceremony in 2020 was postponed until further notice. Well, further notice was almost a year and a half later, but at least they finally got the recognition and celebration they deserved. There was an honors banquet the night before his graduation ceremony and we had a wonderful time with his school buddies, eating and celebrating. But I felt off that day. Smells were making me nauseous but that hadn’t happened since I was pregnant with our son. That next morning, I woke up before anyone else and felt queasy. I immediately dug through the drawers to find an old pregnancy test from years ago. Sure enough, I found one but it had expired months before. I thought I’d give it a try anyways. It was positive. I was unsure since it had expired but come to find out, it’s almost impossible to get a positive result on an expired test unless you’re really really pregnant. Of course, I bought more to be sure and all were positive. I was really really pregnant. And we found out that same morning of his graduation. It was an incredible day of joy, celebration, excitement, and hope. Our rollercoaster was riding as high as it could ride. Little did we know that it was about to plummet down to the deepest depths just weeks later.

The new school year began and I was hopeful that this next year would be as normal as possible compared to the black hole that the past school year got sucked into. Most of the previous year’s strict COVID policies were gone and things were looking up. Not to mention, we just finished up an incredible summer of fun, just celebrated my husbands graduation from law school and passing of the bar exam, and found out we were expecting our second baby. So much joy, hope, and excitement. I knew that I had struggled with severe nausea and vomiting during my last pregnancy but we were elated about the new baby and I was hopeful that I could use the same medication from the last pregnancy to combat any sickness that might emerge this pregnancy. I immediately called the doctor and started on my medication. We also went ahead and told all of our family and colleagues in case nausea and vomiting took over again. But that was just a precaution because I was truly so hopeful that I would be able to fight it this time. Everything was settled and our rollercoaster ride was zooming high in the sky, until all of a sudden the vomiting returned and everything came rushing in a downward spiral. Whiplash.

There is so much I could share about this experience, but I’ll save that for another time and try to stick to the basics just to give an idea of the torment that was endured. I was only 5 weeks pregnant when the vomiting began. No matter what I ate or drank, it would all come right back up. After a weekend of nonstop vomit, I thought that going to work might distract me and keep the vomiting at bay, but by lunchtime I had already vomited ten times. Thankfully, my sweet principal already knew of this possibility and was extremely understanding. She sent me home in the middle of the day that Monday and I shockingly didn’t return for over two months. I had only spent 8 days with my new class of sweet first graders before all of a sudden abandoning them with no warning or answers for when I would return at that time. It broke my heart, but I could barely stand up and I knew I could no longer function, much less teach a classroom of small kids. When I left that day, I had no idea what was in store for the following weeks and months. It was all I could do to rush home, puke again, and lie down. The next couple of weeks and months held some of the hardest days of my life.

A little background knowledge: During my first pregnancy, the same severe nausea and vomiting emerged in early pregnancy. I knew morning sickness was common but it felt like more than that once I started vomiting more times than I could keep count each day. I ended up being hospitalized for dehydration a couple of times. The longest I stayed was two nights in the hospital hooked up to IV fluids. Some of the medications that were given to me gave me strange neurological side effects, not to mention my anxiety meds were thrown off, so I spent the first two trimesters in a deep depression as I fought this bizarre rare pregnancy illness called Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG), as well as mental and emotional issues. Therein held the darkest days of my life. Fortunately, HG subsided halfway through the pregnancy and my medications were balanced again, so I was able to enjoy the last bit of pregnancy. When I got pregnant again, I honestly thought I could fight it and would never have to go through that horrible illness again. But boy, oh boy, could I not have been more wrong.

I left school on August 30th and was unable to feel well enough to return until November 1st, and even then I still struggled with HG. The first trimester ended up being far worse physically than my first pregnancy. The day after I left work, I ended up getting IV fluids in the ER until they felt like I could return home. Unfortunately, I was back in the ER a few days later, even more dehydrated. I couldn’t stop vomiting. They started me on IVs again but decided to keep me overnight, just like the first pregnancy. Little did I know that I wouldn’t get better so easily this time around. I ended up spending an entire week in the hospital hooked up to IVs and trying different medications but having no luck. I couldn’t even keep ice chips down without vomiting. Covid policies only allowed one visitor so my sweet husband stayed home with our son while my mom stayed with me. I was so incredibly nauseated that the sound or sight of a television, phone screen, music, or a simple conversation made me feel even worse. My poor mama just sat in the tiny hospital room with me and watched me stare holes into the ceiling. I will never forget that physical torment nor the mental and emotional feelings of frustration and anger for not being able to fight HG and the overwhelming dread of knowing how long the journey would be until it ends. My rollercoaster ride had just dropped to the lowest points of rock bottom in the blink of an eye and I knew we had an incredibly long and bumpy path back to the top.

I finally was able to keep something down after a week of fluids and meds, so I was sent back home. Sent back home to a toddler that needed me, but I was absolutely helpless myself. I could barely eat, was still vomiting at times, couldn’t walk without feeling lightheaded, and couldn’t leave my bed. For two months, I was bedridden and unable to care for myself, much less our son. My sweet husband had to be strong for both of us, working full time, taking our son to and from school, feeding and bathing him, and taking care of me in the process. I had never felt so useless and purposeless. Day in and day out, I just laid lifeless in the bed, mad at God for allowing this to happen again but also praying and pleading for God to make it stop, all while thanking God for healthy baby despite my illness. So many emotions to ride alongside of the nausea, vomiting, extreme fatigue, and lightheadedness. Unfortunately, just when we thought things couldn’t get worse, the rollercoaster made a another twist, turn, and drop down into the depths below.

It had already been about a month of being bedridden when I got a call from my parents saying that my grandma was about to pass away. She had quickly declined after my grandad passed away just months before. We knew it was coming but her time arrived fast after his passing. To make matters worse, I was still stuck in bed with severe HG and her funeral was going to be held in another state. My family understood if I couldn’t come, but I was determined not to miss it. We loaded in the car and I prayed hard that the HG would subside at least for the weekend. And sure enough, the symptoms mostly held off. I was still nauseated and lightheaded, but for the first time in weeks I started feeling a bit more normal. I even decided to get up and share a tribute I had written for my grandma at her funeral. But as soon as the funeral was over, I was vomiting in the reception bathroom and was back in bed feeling sick the next day. The rollercoaster had gone above ground just a bit that weekend and I started to see light again, but by the next day I was whiplashed back into the depths below and also grieving my grandma in the midst of the illness and mental battles. There wasn’t anything I could do but ride in the dark underground of our circumstances until more time had gone by.

Week after week went by as I watched the seasons change from my bedroom window, when finally I felt well enough to venture outdoors. I slowly began to make my way up the steep hill of the rollercoaster and began seeing daylight again. I started small with little trips to the store, but even that made me feel super lightheaded. Eventually, I made longer trips like to the park with our son and dog. I was still struggling with HG but each week started to feel a bit better than the last until one day I decided I felt well enough to venture back to normal life, including going back to work. My body wasn’t strong yet, but I could no longer mentally stay at home and I knew I was well enough to try doing life again. And just as that rollercoaster was riding easy uphill again, another twist, turn, and loop came in our path.

My husband’s grandad had been battling cancer and we knew his time was also coming soon, but it arrived much earlier than we anticipated. And sure enough, we got a call saying that he would pass any day. My husband took our son and drove hours away to visit him one last time. Within days he was gone and in the presence of Jesus with all of our other grandparents. My last week of my disability leave was spent traveling six hours for his funeral then turning around the next day to travel home. That ended up being my true test of strength to see how ready I was to return to normal life. While we were grieving his death, I was also entering into livelihood again. Such a bittersweet time, but I was thankful to be able to attend to celebrate his life and also be able to feel alive again. The rollercoaster sure was bumpy and turning lots of flips at that time, but at least it was above ground and headed higher.

After being bedridden from August to November, I arrived back at work ready to take on whatever obstacles were left from my sudden leave. I’m not going to lie, teaching first graders is not a job that can be eased into and it was not an easy uphill climb. I was mentally ready to be back but my body had no stamina or endurance. I gave those kiddos all I had each day to try to make up for lost time, but by the time I picked up our son after school, I was completely spent. Every afternoon consisted of me barely making it home from his daycare just to crash on the couch and desperately wait for my husband to come home. I did what I could to help with dinner and bedtime, but I immediately went to bed after. We had already spent months in a dark place and even after I returned to normal life, things were still not normal and we had no time as a family. Things started looking up a bit more, however, when we finally found out our baby’s gender.

We both knew that this would have to be our last pregnancy, so we each secretly wanted a girl but didn’t want to admit it. We tried to stay focused on just having a healthy baby. Fortunately, our little one was still very healthy and even more-so, it was a girl! My fragile mama heart was so ecstatic. I had suffered so much over the previous months, and I had even prayed at one point for the Lord to give us a girl so that we could have one of each. God had already created her when I prayed that, but He knew what He was doing. We were and still are just so incredibly grateful for a healthy baby girl. We couldn’t wait to share with everyone over Thanksgiving. And before we knew it, it was Thanksgiving break and we were traveling that long trek back to my husband’s grandparents’ house to help go through their things. As is life, we celebrated the coming new life of our baby girl while also grieving the deaths and old lives of his grandparents’ pasts. Rollercoaster twists and turns. Whiplash.

Then the 2021 year closed out with more bumpy weeks full of end of semester assessments, holiday parties, church Christmas rehearsals, and the stress of getting everything together in order to have a good Christmas with family. These last weeks were long and brutal as we juggled everything while also still fighting the never ending nausea and fatigue of HG. Not to mention our son had (and is still having) major sleep regression and separation anxiety issues, so sleep was rough those last weeks of the year. But we had a wonderful end to a very extreme year, getting to spend good quality time with our big families and just our little family of almost four, as well.

The tough rollercoaster ride of 2021 was definitely one for the books, full of ups, downs, and twists and turns all around. The extreme emotions of joy and laughter to depression and tears were all felt multiple times throughout this past year. My physical, mental, and spiritual states have all been stretched to breaking points, and it’s only by the grace of God that I am still functioning, healing, and becoming stronger each day. I know that just because the year 2021 has ended, our rollercoaster ride has not yet ended. Life continues on and both our past joys and struggles stay with us. We’re still joyful about my husband’s bar exam accomplishments and the coming of our baby girl, as well as still grieving the deaths of our grandparents and still struggling with HG symptoms of nausea, extreme fatigue, and the mental battles that result from HG. Our rollercoaster is still bumpy but at least it’s moving forward. I’m just grateful that God was in control of this past year and was taking care of us through every jerk and jolt along the way. I can’t control what 2022 will bring, but I can trust in the One who is in control. My hope is that this new year’s ride will be smooth, straight, and sweet. But if we encounter more whiplash from extreme highs to forceful lows, I’ll still put my hope and trust in Christ alone. He is in control and I’m just along for the ride.

John 16:33

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