Pregnancy was emotionally, mentally, and psychologically difficult for me.
Of course, I felt like an idiot when I explained that to my sister-in-law who was on bed rest during her second pregnancy. It's still hard for me to feel legitimate when I examine my situation, since I know it mostly takes place on the inside and leaves scars very few will ever notice.
I found out during my first pregnancy that depression while expecting is called perinatal depression. I had happened to be walking through the mall, feeling more than just bloated, fighting back tears. My husband and I were fighting again and I was mortified to be doing so in public, when we should have been enjoying ourselves. I felt angry, betrayed, and sad. An overwhelming sense of sadness. Why? I'm not sure exactly, except I know there was a hint of dashed expectations in there, too.
We had married after only 5 months of courtship and I was pregnant less than two months after the honeymoon. With everything happening so quickly, I was just as quick to blame this seemingly consistent numbness and pain on the trials we were facing, rather than to label my illness.
I didn't want to admit the problem. I didn't want to say that word, "Depression."
And not just depression, but perinatal depression. A depression because of raging hormones and God knows what else happens in our bodies the moment we conceive.
I often look back on that first pregnancy and my second and I can see glimpses of moments I am not proud of. Questioning friends who contacted my husband with a fierce sense of obligation and protectiveness. It's embarrassing now and honestly it hurt some of my friendships, but I was just doing what I thought I had to at the time. Call it primal, if you will. I know it to be what happens while I'm pregnant, because as soon as the baby is born, I have an overwhelming sense of relief.
Actually, the first time I was flooded with relief. The second time, I did have lingering feelings of isolation and detachment for about 6 weeks, but I recovered and now those blues are a distant, albeit sometimes painful memory.
The reason I'm writing this is because I don't want other soon to be moms to feel alone in their angst. We all experience different symptoms, to varying degrees. Try to carry on the best you are able and forget all the rest. Just remember, even if no one else can relate and you feel ashamed or unsure of who you can talk to, this too shall pass. It's beyond your control and you need comfort- NOT judgement! Good luck and remember the little life inside of you completely appreciates the sacrifices you are going through to get where you are! Good job, and keep going strong! You're doing a great job and I'm proud of you momma!
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Loving the life you live...
Do you ever think about, daydream perhaps, about an alternative universe where everything you ever did was a direct result of good decisions and resulted directly in positive outcomes?
I'm talking about being fulfilled because you know that you've never made a mistake, and therefore have "arrived" at a very beautiful place in life.
It isn't real, this place (or your place, either). Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but none of us live that fantasized existence of perfection. We dream about it sure, but dreams only take us so far. They are lacking the spontaneity of improvisation when we find our selves up "Crap Lake" (most likely due to our own mistakes-but quite as probably due to unforseeable, unfortunate events beyond our control). Either way, there we find ourselves, and we are grumpy at this point, bewildered at how a simply beautiful, impeccable day, had gone so bleak-so quickly.
But then it happens, we make a change. We decide to laugh in the face of this disastrous circumstance and we succeed. We turn the grumpy mood of our child into a game of hysterics as we go on pretending to bump our heads into the wall over and over for the shear joy of watching their distress disappear. We are good people and parents and we want the very best for our children. We might not always live in the ideal land of sweet talk and lively conversation, but when we do get a glimpse of that Heaven, we dwell there- cherishing every last second!
I find myself here today. In solitude, seeking a distraction from the room I desperately need to organize and the bathroom longing to be scoured. I need escape, I need levity, I want FREEDOM. So, I come here. I seek solace in the words I imagine give others comfort. And perhaps I comfort myself with the knowledge that I am not alone in wanting to come away from my real life, to escape the monotony of sleep deprivation and melt-down wails and cries, and be someone assured and comforted by an idealized existence. Maybe some people really are "living the dream," but it seems more like I'm living to dream at this point. I know this is only a season, kids only stay small for so long, and that on the horizon I am there, looking back wondering where all that time had gone.
Someday, I'll look back and think to myself that I wish I could have back one moment, one day, when the kids were so little and we had nothing to do but sit around and take baths and play imaginary games. Someday. Far, far away.
I'm talking about being fulfilled because you know that you've never made a mistake, and therefore have "arrived" at a very beautiful place in life.
It isn't real, this place (or your place, either). Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but none of us live that fantasized existence of perfection. We dream about it sure, but dreams only take us so far. They are lacking the spontaneity of improvisation when we find our selves up "Crap Lake" (most likely due to our own mistakes-but quite as probably due to unforseeable, unfortunate events beyond our control). Either way, there we find ourselves, and we are grumpy at this point, bewildered at how a simply beautiful, impeccable day, had gone so bleak-so quickly.
But then it happens, we make a change. We decide to laugh in the face of this disastrous circumstance and we succeed. We turn the grumpy mood of our child into a game of hysterics as we go on pretending to bump our heads into the wall over and over for the shear joy of watching their distress disappear. We are good people and parents and we want the very best for our children. We might not always live in the ideal land of sweet talk and lively conversation, but when we do get a glimpse of that Heaven, we dwell there- cherishing every last second!
I find myself here today. In solitude, seeking a distraction from the room I desperately need to organize and the bathroom longing to be scoured. I need escape, I need levity, I want FREEDOM. So, I come here. I seek solace in the words I imagine give others comfort. And perhaps I comfort myself with the knowledge that I am not alone in wanting to come away from my real life, to escape the monotony of sleep deprivation and melt-down wails and cries, and be someone assured and comforted by an idealized existence. Maybe some people really are "living the dream," but it seems more like I'm living to dream at this point. I know this is only a season, kids only stay small for so long, and that on the horizon I am there, looking back wondering where all that time had gone.
Someday, I'll look back and think to myself that I wish I could have back one moment, one day, when the kids were so little and we had nothing to do but sit around and take baths and play imaginary games. Someday. Far, far away.
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