Sacrifice

They say that motherhood is a sacrifice.

I wasn't prepared for the sacrifices that I've had to make during this pregnancy though.

Foregoing the drugs prescribed by the sprecialist used to manage the illness has been the biggest one. Although they assure me that it will not harm the baby, I know that everything crosses the placenta. So I had to rely exclusively on the herbal remedies which are a long-term solution that provide little relief on a day-to-day basis.

During the diagnostic procedure (colonoscopy) at the hospital, pain-relief was not an option that I could take advantage of. The pain was astounding.



Some days go by smoothly. I do my chores, cook the food, read books, run errands, attend social events. Apart from sporadic waves of pain and quick dashes to the loo, I function fairly normally. At times I feel completely normal; cured and restored to my former health I revel in the bursts of energy.

A few minutes or hours later and inevitably I am confronted by the inescapable truth.

I know I should relish those good periods. I usually do appreciate them and they help me get through the pain when it does come. But the knowledge of the difficult periods lurking around the corner often mar my enjoyment of the the moments of respite.


This disease is my unwanted night-caller. It forces its way under my duvet and makes me writhe in unbearable pain. I toss and turn trying to delay the inevitable. But the UC eventually tears me away from the semi-comfort of my bed and wedges itself firmly between me and my sleep. I record every awakening and its events (BM, strength of pain, bleeding, etc) in my UC diary. The night seems never ending.
I often lie awake wondering why it's so much worse at night. I mentally review my diet for the day, the events, etc. The still night brings no answers.

Morning dawns eventually and I fall into short bursts of exhausted slumber.