OK, So Here it Goes

I normally don't discuss very private things on my blog.  But this time, I'm going to.  I touched on it a little in a previous post.  I've been suspicious for a while, but after seeing and talking with my OB today, I'm ready to admit it publicly because I think it needs to be done in order to help others.  I'd like to thank Heir To Blair first though, for giving me the courage to come forward by displaying courage of her own to also come forward in an attempt to help bring about more awareness of this condition.

I have Postpartum Depression.  At first I thought it was just "baby blues" and waited for it to get better.  It didn't.  The more I try to compare my last pregnancy with this one I am realizing that I probably had it to some degree with my first child as well, perhaps I was just not as aware as I am now.  I became pregnant with Little C just 6 months after Big C was born.  During the course of my pregnancy I cried. A lot.  I just thought it was normal pregnancy hormones coupled with the additional responsibility of taking care of my infant son.  I kept telling myself that things would be better after Little C was born.  Boy, was I sorely mistaken.

I've always been somewhat neurotic, a compulsive worry wart.  At times, pre babies it would come on strong, usually when family members were ill or when I had a litter of puppies to raise.  During this pregnancy with Little C, I hadn't noticed how out of control it had become.  I would check on Big C constantly.  While he took naps or at bedtime I was so terrified that he was going to stop breathing that the constant checking in on him would wake him up.  After moving Big C to his crib in his own room, which is right next to ours, I would lay at night with the monitor pressed to my ear listening making sure I could hear him breathe. I kept the lamp on in my room while he was in there so I could see him and make it easier to get up for feedings through the night.  After he moved into his crib, I continued to leave the lamp on in my room.  Months later and I couldn't bring myself to turn it off.  As if leaving that lamp light on would somehow get me to him faster if something was happening in his room.  That lamp is still lit every night.

I won't bore you with every detail, but the idea of having PPD didn't really come to mind until after Little C was born.  I was am still crying a lot.  I just assumed that it was the postpartum hormone crash mixed with all the things I have going on right now that was making me feel like I was losing my mind.  I mean having my dad & brother both with medical problems, a tantrum throwing 16 month old to run after, a screaming baby with unresolved colic issues, a husband who is gone for 14.5 hours a day, in-laws visiting for 2 weeks, the baby's baptism, having my old tub/shower ripped out and new one put in, PECO energy destroying my property value and appearance not to mention my memories by hacking down my tree lined driveway and running to doctor appointments could bring anyone to tears, right?  Oh, and my vet called yesterday to tell me one of my dogs, Martha has lymphoma and a mass in her chest and that it is probably too late to do anything and she'll be dead soon.  Oh!  And I forgot...its also Mother's Day this weekend!  Yeah, it's going to be a wonderful day for me.  My mother will be dead 13 years next month so I'll be visiting her grave this Sunday.  I really could go on, but why?

The continued crying and meltdown moments are draining.  But what really gets to me is feeling so out of control, overwhelmed and inadequate.  This is so hard.  I look at my screaming baby and some days I am super mom and I am rocking her and soothing her with the best of them.  I am so in tune to her needs and cues that I can just about read her mind and it is a really good day.  Other times all I do is stare at her blankly while she screams and screams.  And still there are other times, and these are the most difficult and I am embarrassed to even type it out, that I just can't take the screaming any more and I scream back at her to just stop screaming or shut up already!  I snap at Big C when he is doing something I don't want him to do or if he is whining about something and....the way he looks at me when I yell at him, his little eyes fill up and his bottom lip quivers....it just kills me inside.  Immediately after I yell at either of them I grab them up and hold them too me crying and telling them I'm so sorry over and over, apologizing for being such a horrible mother.  The guilt is overwhelming and I just crumple into a sobbing mess.

I do NOT want to harm myself or my babies at all.  Those thoughts have not crossed my mind in the least.  I have never felt detached from my babies.  Never had the feelings of disinterest.  In fact, I am just the opposite.  Some might say I am obsessed.  I have to be everything to them, even if that means sacrificing my relationships with others.  My husband & I have not been out alone since before Big C was born.  I just can't bear to leave them.  I know it sounds so cliche to many moms who are out working and don't want to leave their babies.  This has nothing to do with that.  Me personally...I can't leave them.  I want to go do things on my own, have a date with my husband or a night with my friends.  But I can't.  Not without being miserable and worrying the entire time.  And I have tried.  In rare instances I will leave them with my husband to get something done.  And then I'm calling home all the time checking on them and making him insane.  Other times I've left them, I've felt guilty, worrisome and I loathe myself for it.

Speaking of husbands, mine is amazing.  He really is wonderful with our son and he adores his little girl.  When my day has me stretched to the limit and I'm ready to hand Little C off to him after he gets home, I don't.  I need a break from the screaming and I want to spend some time with my son, but when he asks me if I want him to take her I tell him, "No, I'm fine I got her."  Then, I get pissed at him for not taking her and giving me a break.  WTF?  Do you see the insanity I am living with right now?

Is it PPD or something more?  I don't know.  I probably should seek therapy for it.  But for right now, I'm going to take the advice of my doctor.  I've been too proud to admit that I need help.  Or perhaps I've just been too afraid to ask for it.  I hate the idea of taking medication for something I feel I should be able to handle on my own.  It makes me feel weak and inferior as a mother.  But I can't don't want to go another day like I have been.  So I have finally swallowed my pride and asked for help.  I'm hoping that I'll be a better mother for it.

A Note To Fellow Bloggers, 29 Weeks Update & Random Thoughts

29 weeks already!  Sometimes it feels like it's going slow, but being busy with Big C has helped in that department.  I think I'm pretty close to making the decision to just go and schedule a c-section.  I'll wait until my next sonogram @ 32 weeks, but I'm almost 100% on going ahead with it.  I have 10 weeks until I get to see and hold this baby.  I still can't believe it sometimes.  I don't want to sound like a broken record here, but I am so truly blessed and thankful to God for my son and this newest baby.  I am not without my own trials that I've had to face, but I have been fortunate to get pregnant on my own, without medical intervention, maintain a healthy pregnancy and deliver (even if by c-section) a healthy, happy handsome little boy.  AND I am fortunate to again been able to conceive, and so far so good on maintaining a healthy pregnancy and I pray it will continue to a problem free delivery and a happy, healthy baby.

K and I got married in August of 2001.  And although we didn't immediately start trying to have a baby, we didn't prevent it either.  I've battled with female troubles since I was 14 years old.  Had my first D&C @ 14 then had to have another @ 16.  My hormones have never cooperated and were in *wacky* mode all the time.  Skipping a period or 2 then bleeding non-stop for the better part of 8 weeks.  I have been put on probably 3/4 of the birth control pills known to man in order to try to regulate my cycle.  Some worked, some didn't.  I've had ovarian cysts in the past as well.  After I got married, I began weaning myself off the BC pills...hoping that my cycles would continue to be normalish.  And for a while they were.  Normalish for me is just having a cycle once a month.  I never have and never will be an every xx day kinda girl.  One month it'll be a 25 days cycle, the next month it's 32 days.  Long story short, after a few months I kicked the BC completely and was cycling once a month.  The months passed, and so did the years and I never conceived.  Hubs and I pretty much gave up on the notion of it happening for us.  We talked and thought about fertility treatments of various sorts and the potential of having to consider IVF if Clomid wasn't successful.  And IVF was just something we could not afford.  We just didn't have that kind of money to put out in a chunk.  So we decided that if God had planned for us to have a child or children, then it would happen.  It was out of our hands.  God did have a plan and he did give us a beautiful son.  He decided when, not me.  You know, 6+ years is a long time when you are TTC.  I know what the longing feels like.  I know that twinge you feel when you see mothers with their babies.  When you see friends and family having babies, and there you sit with an empty womb and empty arms.  I was never jealous, but I did hope that one day, I'd have a baby of my own to love and cherish.

I follow many blogs.  And I have been there with you when you have written about your disappointment of a BFN.  The profoundness of experiencing a loss, be it before or after a delivery.  I have sat here and shed countless tears for you...with you.  I have prayed for you.  I have gone to bed at night thinking of you and admiring your strength, courage and faith.  For those of you that have experienced wonderful things after such heartbreak, I have laughed, jumped up and down and cried with happiness for you.  And for those still waiting, I wait with you, praying and hoping that you find the happiness you are seeking.  I'm not a stalker...seriously.  But just so you know, you have another person in your corner, rooting you on and ready to celebrate your victory.

OK, so I know that was a bit heavy so on to 29 week news.  I see my doctor again in a few weeks and I really need to ask him.  "Why does my crotch feel like it's going to fall out?"  No, really.  It's not the baby-feels-like-it-is-going-to-fall-out pressure.  It's my pelvis.  I think I can hear it crying.  It hurts SO bad.  It hurts to just walk, but if I try to swing a leg over a gate, or heck just lift it up high enough to step into the tub to take a shower it feels as though it is going to crumble.  I never had this with my first pregnancy, so I am assuming it might have something to do with only having 6 months to recover from a 9 month pregnancy and a c-section before getting pregnant again.  By week definition I am 7 months pregnant.  I've been experiencing and expecting discomforts.  But this one in particular is totally new for me.

Sleeping is off and on sucky.  Some nights are good, others...meh.  Half of it is because I get clogged and can't breathe...thank you sinuses and allergies.  I'm still tired, but I found myself needing a nap while the boy napped this morning.  Not that I felt like taking a nap.  I mean I needed it.  The babe still moves a bit erratically, which throws me into panic mode.  But I keep reminding myself as long as I feel something no matter how subtle, things are OK.  This was the part that drove me crazy with Big C.  I wanted him out because I couldn't stand not being able to *check* on him all the time.  So if he decided to take a snoozer day, I freaked thinking something was wrong.  On the same note, I wanted him in because inside he was protected from all the outside dangers.

I was talking to a friend of mine yesterday and I'm coming to the realization while talking to her that being a parent, a mommy isn't just hard in the sense of the word.  But I find myself worrying about Big C all the time.  I mean even in the sense of him being an adult.  I want him to grow up into a good man.  Not an alcoholic or drug addict or a player who just uses and manipulates women.  I want him to want to be a good man himself.  I don't want him doing stupid things like drinking and driving or getting into a car with someone who has.  I see news reports of someone running a child over with a car only to leave the scene and my heart stops for a moment, worried that that fate could find my son.  And that is only part of it.  More immediately the thoughts rolling in my head are how boys do silly and risky things to show off.  How am I going to teach him to be cautious without being afraid to try new things?  I mean sometimes it can be a fine line between going out for the football team and wanting to do stunts on a dirt bike.  No, really!

I don't want to be the crazy mother who never lets him do anything, or sends him out of the house with bubble wrap duct taped to his entire body.  But I also don't want to just let him "Live & Learn".  I can't.  He is a child and doesn't know *how* live and learn works!  What lesson will have been taught to him if he kills himself or ends up in the hospital paralyzed?  I am a chronic worry wart.  And yeah, I probably should be seeking therapy for it before I make my children worse than me.  For now, I'll just continue to pray that he and the baby stay safe, make good decisions and ask the Lord to keep them and protect them.  After all it is His plan and if anyone can keep them from harm, it is Him.

-MoM-