Why I Disappeared

Hiiiii. (Insert emoji showing teeth.)

Until January, I spent a decent portion of every day on this little corner of the internet. And then I disappeared faster than I do when cocktail hour begins after a wedding ceremony. (What I mean is that I sprint to the wine.)

If you’re not caught up, click on over to Instagram and extra extra read all about it.

Since I've basically disappeared from the internet, let me catch everyone up. Brendan and I moved back to New Jersey and I am now 21 weeks pregnant. SURPRISE! We've been so silent about it all because over the past 4 months I've been struggling with something called Hyperemesis, AKA a severe form of nausea and vomiting in pregnancy, generally described as "unrelenting, excessive pregnancy-related nausea and/or vomiting that prevents adequate intake of food and fluids." It is not 'morning sickness'. It is brutal and painful and I didn't think I'd ever feel okay again. Over the past 2 weeks I have FINALLY started to feel better, although I still have to be on (doctor-approved!!) medication to keep the intense, every-20-minute vomiting at bay. I've always been happy thinking about our future child, but these are the first couple weeks I've been able to celebrate and do the things I had imagined. (I never thought we'd do a gender reveal – we knew the sex before announcing to the family – but we felt so excited to finally do the FUN baby things I couldn't even fathom doing over the past few months (I could barely leave my permanent spot on the couch). To which I must add, pain and joy are not mutually exclusive. It's not either/or. I'm allowed to feel both, and I do. I do feel grateful. I also feel it's important to talk about how pregnancy is life-changing and scary, especially when it doesn't happen as imagined (does it ever?) and when everything you're "supposed" to do makes you feel worse. It doesn't mean you did something wrong and I feel I have to share this experience just so people understand and so those who have been there don't feel as alone as I did. (Blog post coming soon.) I'm very sorry to my friends I've neglected and if I haven't been able to tell you about our baby in person. I'm incredibly grateful there is something positive coming out of this, honored that I get to be a mother, and lucky I have my strong, loving, wonderful husband + our amazing families to experience this with. Brendan and I cannot wait to meet our little one in early October!

A post shared by Kara (@kararuns729) on May 30, 2017 at 3:20pm PDT

The past 4-ish months have been the toughest months of my life, but I’m saving that for another post. The good news is, I’m pregnant! (DON’T LEAVE I promise this will still be a running blog.)

There’s one Soul Cycle class I’ll never forget because it shaped my vision of the person I’d be if and when I became pregnant. The teacher, who was always overflowing with words of wisdom, asked us to look around the room and choose one person who inspired us, for whatever reason. There’s usually someone in every class, at least for me. Then she called out a girl in the corner of the room who, she said, was 8 months pregnant.

I always imagined I’d be that pregnant girl. I wanted to be this badass pregnant lady with a big belly just crushing workouts and making other people want to step their game up, like this woman did for me. She continued to come to class for a few more weeks, I’m assuming right up until her due date. Being completely oblivious to what pregnancy actually entailed, I thought exercising throughout the full 9 months was generally just a matter of willpower. (Yes, I’m an idiot.) There are a lot of things I thought about pregnancy that I now know to be ridiculously naive.

Now, I’m realizing that every pregnancy is different and we as mamas aren’t totally in control. (I did however tell everyone I was certainly celebrating Mother’s Day this year and very politely demanded requested a card from Brendan.) At least I don’t feel like I have control. The little lady in my uterus is calling the shots and I’m learning to accept that my body is the boss, no questions asked. (What a tough lesson!) Still, she’s making me stronger in a different way and for that I am grateful.

Now, I’m constantly wishing I had been a more supportive friend to my pregnant and mom friends, offering help and love more often and less feeling sorry for myself for thinking I was “losing” a friend to a tiny human.

As for running? My last run was on February 11th. It was 7 miles and I was still training for the NYC Half.

On February 15th I began a struggle with Hyperemesis and the world as I knew it unravelled (explained in the Instagram post). The most I’ve been able to do since then is walk and I’ve (sort of) come to terms with it. I never thought I could be so grateful just to leave my house.

Despite everything, I still feel lazy and like everything that makes me me has disappeared. No running. No tough workouts. No cooking. Less time with friends. No job. Before Brendan and I moved back to New Jersey (more on that later!) I had secured a great freelance job, but I lost it because I was too sick to function. I’m really struggling to find something to do right now, but I desperately need to work.

A couple weeks ago I was able to begin doing some low impact exercises like squats and band/PT type exercises, which I consider a huge win. I have an irrational fear that if I’m not exercising during my pregnancy, our little child will hate exercising and taking care of herself, or that because now I’m really craving jalapeño poppers, she’ll refuse to eat anything not fried and cheesy. She might actually hate everything I love, and I can see how that can be a struggle for a parent…but I’m telling myself that a) hello she’s a little fetus right now and why the hell am I wasting time worrying about this and b) I’ll never be able to control what she likes and doesn’t like and I need to be supportive even if it’s something I know nothing about…as long as it’s healthy and makes her happy. And not illegal.

I may not be able to run right now, but I finally have the energy to write, leave the house, and be a little more of a normal human at 21 weeks pregnant. Here’s hoping it continues.