Unplanned Parenthood

Baking away the blues

God, I'm sick of that last post being on my website.

I woke up this morning thinking that I just didn't want to take a shower.  Why take a shower when I'm just going to get dirty again and then I'll have to, like, take a shower tomorrow, too, so what's the point?  And then I'm, like, whatever.  Shut up.  You smell.  Go take a shower.

And then I suddenly feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown and start crying.

From my family's point of view, I imagine it's kind of like being around someone with multiple personality disorder.  Only not as fun because it's not like the other personality has a name like Sherry.  And Sherry suddenly speaks in tongues and only wears plaid and eats donut holes.  Unfortunately, my other personality isn't "interesting and quirky," it just sucks.

So, I'm probably just about as sick of talking about my depression as I was about breastfeeding.  Let's all keep our fingers crossed that I get out of this and talk about more interesting things in my life.  Like...well.  Anything would be more interesting than listening to my whining.

I'm going to do some baking while I'm here and I have some extra baby-wrangling hands.  Anyone have any holiday baking recipes they'd like to share?

Sleep is the new sex

You know what sounds wonderful? Going to bed at 8:00 p.m. and sleeping a full, uninterrupted 12 hours. It doesn't just sound good, it sounds delicious. The thought of it kind of makes me tear up a little. *Sob*

Jack has decided that no matter what time we put him to bed, 4:00 a.m. is a perfectly divine time to start the day. He is up, happy, talking and wants to play. He's incredibly sweet and loving and wants nothing more than to hang out with me. The key is that I have to wake up, pay attention and engage him, complete with genuine smiles and tickles, otherwise we're looking at a potential meltdown.

After consecutive days of this madness, I am so tired that I feel a little sick to my stomach. I am overtired to the point that I'm shaky.

Kid, I love you with all my heart, but let's try to make it until at least 6:00 a.m. You may be confident that there are no gypsies in the Phoenix area to whom I could sell you. Let me assure you, I KNOW WHERE TO FIND THE GYPSIES. Go to bed.

Let's celebrate the return of my computer with an entry about postpartum depression! Party!

I could've kept up with this website using our desktop computer while my laptop was being fixed, but the truth is that I haven't felt much like writing. I'm not sure what to say.

When I try to write something lighthearted it feels forced and fake. When I try to write about how I've really been feeling it comes out whiny and resentful.

The real truth is that I'm suffering from postpartum depression. The Mayo Clinic lists these symptoms:

Anxiety
Sadness
Irritability
Crying
Headaches
Exhaustion
A sense of inadequacy
Constant fatigue
Lack of joy in life
A sense of emotional numbness or failure
Withdrawal from family and friends
Lack of concern for yourself or your baby
Excessive concern for your baby
Less interest in sex
Severe mood swings
Impaired thinking or concentration
Insomnia

I can place checkmarks next to most of these, all but a couple. I've waited it out a little to make sure it's not just the "baby blues" which would have meant that it would pass.

It's been 6 weeks and I don't feel better. I'm going to the doctor on Friday and I'm getting help.

I have an amazing child who, really, is a very easy, sweet baby. He's stlll a baby and he cries sometimes for no reason and he's demanding, but this is part of being a baby.

Jack is sweet, funny, and he's growing by leaps and bounds. He smiles a lot now, can lay on his tummy and lift his head, has a million different facial expressions, still eats like a barracuda (but that's a separate entry), and he snuggles, cuddles and coos. He loves listening to the blues and turning on Muddy Waters will often settle him down. He loves to be held up so that he can "stand." If he's fake-crying and you call him on it, he breaks into a smile. Sometimes I swear he knows what we're saying.

I don't want to miss any of this because I'm so anxious about the next time he's going to cry. I'm tired of laying in my bed, unable to sleep because the knots in my stomach keep me awake as I twist myself into a disaster, waiting for him to wake up. I'm tired of crying when he cries because I don't know what to do. This is the only time he's going to be this little, when he'll want to take naps on my chest, when he'll turn to find me when he hears my voice.

I feel weak and like a failure because I'm going through this, but in my head I know that a lot of women go through it. It's largely hormonal and with a few months of anti-depressants, I will probably pull through just fine and in the meantime I can enjoy this time that I have with my son.

Yes, this is the hardest job I've ever had, and it never ends, but it doesn't have to be this hard. My husband and Jack deserve to have a wife and mother who doesn't fall apart every day, who is listless. All three of us deserve my sense of well-being and happiness.

As I read through this, it sounds like I'm defending my decision to seek help, and I probably am. I like to be able to do things on my own, to succeed without help from anyone. But it's not just me anymore, and I'd like to see this as looking out for the best interests of my family, not as a failure on my part. I'm working on that. In the meantime, this makes me feel better:

I have to move back to California now, thankyouverymuch.

Look what was in my dining room the other day:

I knew that cockroaches got big, but that thing was Texas-sized. My husband killed it, and I think it might just be a fluke because they're doing construction on the condo next door. But still. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME I AM NOT LIVING IN A PLACE WHERE BUGS ARE THAT LARGE GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

I may or may not be packing as I am writing this.

EW. EW. EW.

Random crap because God, does the heartburn ever end?

Let's just get this out of the way. I have heartburn constantly. Seriously. There are the obvious offenders: tomato sauce, citrus, and spice. Then there are the not so obvious ones. Like water. And oatmeal. Who gets heartburn from oatmeal? The same person that gets it from air. Hi! Nice to meet you.

We had a very low-key weekend, enjoying California before we have to say good-bye.

Also saying good-bye to my feet:

I can still see my toes and I enjoy pedicures, so I'll probably keep up with them. Unlike the bikini waxes which stopped pretty much the second I found out I was pregnant. (Hi dad! Thanks for reading!)

I'm sure that I have a much more substantive post in me somewhere, however, I think the stomach acid is actually eating my brain.

P.S. What's up with the sepia tone? No idea. I was feeling nostalgic and artsy.

Meh. Let's move on, shall we?

Yeah, I know.  Freak out, freak out, brown desert Scottsdale blah, blah, blah.  I had a little mini breakdown on Sunday, then found a place that I really liked on Monday and made peace with the idea of living in the desert.  They have an amazing ice cream place nearby called the Sugar Bowl.  That pretty much sealed the deal.  Let's get a U-Haul, put all our shit in it and go.  The End.

I'm so sick of thinking about it, wondering, and, as Anne Lamott says, "mind-fucking it to death," that I've developed total confidence that we will be fine where ever we go (short note to God: I'm saying that loosely, please don't create the Best Job Opportunity Ever in, like, Detroit or Des Moines or something.  Thanks.).  I'm ready to start something new, to move on.

I haven't allowed myself to think about leaving my great group of friends because it's just too sad.  Boston is a transient city, so people move in and out with a fair amount of frequency.  If they stay in the New England area, it's still fairly easy to see each other because everything is so close.  The west coast is so big.  I'm not that afraid of losing touch because I think we'll all make the effort to stay in touch, but the thought of not having my friends around as I'm having nervous breakdowns about motherhood makes me a little, uh, panicky.  Who will I call when I think I'm going to lose it?  Who's going to bring over the whiskey and tell me everything is okay?

Eek.  That was thinking about it a little too much.  (thinks of kittens and bunnies)

It'll be fine.  I'm ready for the next chapter.

Ringing in 2007 with the Plague

We had a wonderful New Year's with friends down in Carmel. Lots of delicious food (first and foremost - S'MORES, which OMG, YUM and also deep fried turkey, stuffing, crazy-ass cheeses, etc., as well as the largest bottle of champagne EVER. Which of course we finished. And by "we" I mean "everyone but me." SOB) and played some croquet, which wouldn't be complete until Kevin made his usual transformation from Friendly Nice Kev to MY NAME IS KEVIN AND I WILL WHIP ALL YOUR ASSES AT CROQUET, FOR I SECRETLY PLAY ONLINE CROQUET JUST LIKE I GET UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT TO PLAY ONLINE SCRABBLE IN ANTICIPATION OF LOW-KEY, FRIENDLY SCRABBLE GAMES JUST SO I CAN BEAT ALL OF YOU BITCHES. HUZZAH! Complete with victory lap.

Julia and I took a nice picture together:

And we all collapsed at 12:01 because we are old and, let's be honest, it was a struggle to make it past 10:30.

And now I have the Plague.

It might just be a chest cold, but there is also the slightest chance that it might actually be the Black Plague and I am dying. Or I've been eating sandpaper and that's why my throat is swollen. Take your pick.

When does that 'second trimester' glow start? I keep expecting to feel good, to feel energetic and...glowy. I've just kind of been either slightly sick or really sick pretty much the last 4 months. Either sinuses or now this new! exciting! chest cold! It's, quite frankly, frustrating. I want to feel good, I want to feel excited about the baby.

Part of it, I know, is that we have so much up in the air. Where are we going to live? What state? How is my husband's job going to work out? What is going to happen with my job? I'm trying very hard to be okay with the uncertainty, to just be okay. But sometimes it's hard, especially when I feel like death-on-toast.

Rain

It won't stop raining here.  I am a Pacific Northwest girl at heart, but the grey, misty rain is kind of getting me down these days.

I slept horribly last night, but managed to fall into a deep, peaceful slumber right around 6:30 this morning.  It was, in a word, AWESOME when my alarm went off at 7:00.  I've been having crazy, technicolor dreams lately and I think I had a particularly disturbing on last night.  I just remember waking up with body image issues.  It's a great way to start the day, you should try it. 

I think it's time to bake some Christmas cookies.  (Yes, I know the leap from 'body image issues' to 'Christmas cookies' is retarded, but baking lifts my spirits and I'll be damned if I'm going to allow myself to have body image issues while a) I'm pregnant and b) it's Christmas.  Please.  I have enough to worry about.  Like the fact that I forgot to take my pre-natal vitamin yesterday and therefore have ruined my child.  RUINED.)

Riding the Crazy Train

Or should I say "Conductor of the Crazy Train?"  That's probably more accurate.

I've read everywhere about mood swings and how common they are during pregnancy, but I've always thought, "hmmm, I don't feel moody really."  Unfortunately, I've discovered the hard way that this stuff creeps on you without you even realizing it.

Friday was my first day sans headache.  I was almost euphoric without it - life was easy!  things were great!  I can move without feeling like I'm going to vomit!  Saturday morning was great - we went to the beach to watch the huge 20 foot storm waves rolling in, went to our favorite bookstore in the city, and then (I feel like I should introduce some kind of menacing music at this point) I just kind of fell apart.  We drove around and I got sleepy, but couldn't actually nap, we went to see a movie, and then because I was ravenous and thirsty and generally bitchy, we grabbed a quick bite to eat.  I could barely contain my tears throughout the movie (Blood Diamond.  Very violent, okay movie, I wanted to cover my eyes and sob through the entire thing), and then I had to excuse myself to the bathroom to sob during dinner.

All I could think to myself is that I wanted to be "taken care of", to be pampered.  I just couldn't deal with anything.  I have a wonderful, loving, thoughtful husband, but for some reason I just felt alone and stranded.  I don't know why.  He felt awful and couldn't figure out what my problem was (I'm not sure I could actually articulate full words in between the ridiculous sobbing) and I couldn't do anything to help him understand.

The truth is that this pregnancy sometimes makes me feel really frustrated, lonely and like my life is over.  This is really hard for me to admit because I do know that everything is going to be okay, even great, and that we will love this child more than anything.  Maybe some of my feelings stem from the fact that this pregnancy wasn't planned and there were things I wanted to do before having kids: culinary school, travel, etc.

Then again, maybe everyone feels a little like this.  Having a child is a life changing event, I'm sure it's not all rainbows and butterflies every step of the way through this change.  Change, even when it's positive change, is not easy.  I know this.  I just wish I could be rational enough to tell myself this when I'm feeling desperately forlorn.

Enough

My God.  The headache.  It is unrelenting and unbearable.  I thought maybe I had a sinus infection because that's what the pain feels like, but alas, it is just "one of those nasty sinus headaches pregnant women get."  WHAT?!  Also, they won't give me morphine.  Something about it being "bad for the baby."

"You can take Tylenol," says the chipper nurse.  Uh, thanks.  That is incredibly helpful.  Except it's totally not.

So, I'm crying uncle.  I just want the headache to go away.  You have beaten me, sinuses.  You win. 

On a completely unrelated sidenote, we watched "The Emerald Forest" last night which was a really fun movie.  I think it's from the eighties, and it's one of those action movies that sucks you in and makes you forget about things.  Like the headache.  I guess this wasn't unrelated after all, which isn't surprising because it's pretty much the only thing I can think about.