Sometimes you're doing great. Yeah, I'm pregnant! Let's skip through a field of daisies and hold hands and then go for a big dinner and eat ice cream after and it'll be awesome! Sunday was not that day. It started out okay- woke up early and went to church. But Lutheran calisthenics are not for people growing babies. If you've never been to a Lutheran service- we sit, stand, and kneel repeatedly in various combinations for at least a good hour. As my baby is getting bigger, my uterus and chicklet are leaving less room for my lungs and other organs- leaving me short of breath and woozy. By the time we got to communion (more kneeling), I was getting dizzy putting Jesus/the communion wafer into my mouth. When I stood up, I totally lost it. My head felt funny, I tripped over Thomas who was in front of me, and I just didn't stop walking (even though I couldn't really see) until I reached the narthex. Not cool, little chicklet. There will be no more kneeling for the remainder of the pregnancy. Lesson learned.
I felt "off" for the rest of the day. I chalked it up to hormones and just feeling a little out of balance. It happens, right? Aren't pregnant people supposed to be a little kooky? (I've been putting my oven mitts in the freezer again.) I didn't want to hang out with Thomas or watch a movie or do anything that involved people. I cried for no reason multiple times. I wasn't sleepy when I went to bed at 2 in the morning, but I was tired. Had been all day. When I crawled into bed, I laid on Thomas's sleeping shoulder and I cried. Y'all already know where I am going with this, right? Damn straight. I was depressed. Excuse me, but I have to curse.
After 5 minutes of crying, this was going through my head: No, no, no, this cannot be happening. I don't want this. I cannot DO THIS while I'm pregnant. Hell no, I'm not going back on my meds, please please please God take this away from me, I am not strong enough to do this by myself. I don't want this. This is so not fair. Go away loser depression. Crap. Crap on a cracker. Crappity crap crap. I am so mad. I don't want to face depression without my medicine. GO AWAY you are not wanted here. This is so not fair. Damn you. I hate crying. Stupid face being wet. Now I'm so congested I can't breathe. Enter in one of those strangled, tortured breaths that makes you sound like you forgot how to use your nose (because you're congested). And that woke Thomas up. Crappity, why can't I let him sleep and cry and be miserable quietly??
Thomas immediately becomes ready for action. By immediately, I mean he needs 45 seconds to register what's going on. This is still rather quick- it normally takes him 30 minutes to wake up. After asking are you okay? once, he knows that all is not well and that I need to cry. So he holds my hand and I just blubber. Thank goodness Thomas is really good at diffusing these situations. The next thing he says to me is You're beautiful. I start laughing amidst the tears. Sweetie, I don't think I'm crying over my looks. He says, Oh, is that not it? And I laugh some more. When I settle down a little bit, we talk, and I eventually let out that
I'm depressed and I'm crying because I'm scared. Depression is scary at
any time, but I was freaked out because it's really terrifying when you're pregnant. Sometimes all I need to hear is logic, because that doesn't exist in my depression world. Calmly hearing "you can call Dr. C tomorrow if you need to" and "we'll make it through this. I am here for you." at 2:30 in the morning is sometimes just enough logic to make me slow down, let my brain slow down, and I fell asleep, still holding his hand.
Today seems to be going better. The rain doesn't help depression much, but the dogs are being good, contentedly chewing on their Nylabones and ready to defend my honor if a car door slams outside. I hadn't felt so depressed in a long time, and I know it's crucial that in the days following, I keep myself calm. So I'm not going to worry to much about anything. All non-essential stuff is on the back burner until I feel better. Worry about some stupid little thing could send me spiraling again- and that's really not worth it.
Today's post was going to be part 3 of "Bipolar Disorder and Pregnancy." I suppose it did turn out that way- even if it wasn't quite the same as what I had planned. Go figure.