2010 was such a full year for me. In some ways I like to sit here and think about all the good things that happened, soak it up, and feel a little sad that it's over.
And then in other ways I'm SO done with 2010.
Having a newborn was harder than I thought it'd be. And I'm still trying to decide if how difficult I found this year is in any way influenced by my potential depression diagnosis. It probably is, but I can't be sure right now.
Right now I feel like 3 things are ruling my life, and 1 thing is simply causing stress.
The 3 things are:
-Elijah
-getting pregnant again, and
-depression
And the one thing simply causing stress is selling our house, and the possibility of having a showing at any time when I've kind of let the house go.
Seeing as the whole depression thing influences, well, life, I'm going to address it first.
Backstory:
My dad has depression, as does my brother. I have no idea what types, but I know that it's hereditary, and I've always wondered if I struggled with it too.
I had a couple depressive episodes as a teenager.
One, I was 13, and very very sick. I had something called vertebral osteomyelitis, and not only did I have trouble sleeping because of the extreme pain, but I also developed insomnia. I would lay there for hours at night unable to sleep as terrible things would torment my mind. Bad experiences or thoughts would just run through my mind, and then re-run and re-run.Two things I remember dwelling on a lot were the fact that I stole a hair elastic from someone MONTHS before, and my fears from the movie Scream. I would have to ask my dad (who slept in the same room as me to help me move around when needed) to give me something happy to think about because my mind would spiral around such negative things that all the joy seemed to be gone from life, and I was incapable of steering my mind in a positive direction.It got better once my sickness was identified, and went away as I received some validation that I wasn't just faking the sickness with my back.
The second episode was when I was 16, when my boyfriend who was my first love broke up with me out of the blue. I again developed insomnia, and wouldn't fall asleep until 4 or 5 in the morning, as my thoughts and grief would again torment me. At one point I did start to wonder what the point of living was, and considered suicide, but quickly turned away from those thoughts, recognizing that they were irrational.
So anyway, apart from those two experiences, I had many ups and downs as a teen.
Then when I was 18, I found out about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, through a friend, Taylor. I was baptized, received the gift of the Holy Ghost, and was doing so well. The depression stayed rather far away, for at least a year.
Enter crappy relationship to a guy I was engaged to for 3 months. Crappy relationship = depressive episode.
Exit crappy relationship, enter amazing man who became my husband.
Things were great. (edit - things still ARE great, despite depression and whatnot! But, I mean, can't life always be sunshine and rainbows?!)
So as I was saying, Things were great. And then infertility hit.
Infertility is Hard. Like, capital "H" hard.
I don't really know what to say right now about infertility. If you've been there, then you know. If you haven't, well, that's another post I guess.
For my current purposes, let's just say that I have struggled a lot with confidence, despair, faith, loss, unfulfilled dreams, adjusting our plans to NOT involve children. Even those words don't convey it very well (it doesn't help that I'm listening to music right now, so my thoughts aren't coming very smoothly!)
Yes, I've been depressed throughout infertility, but I think that's common enough.
The weird and frustrating thing is that the depression kicked in in full force when I was finally, miraculously, after 4 years, PREGNANT.
I assumed that I was ungrateful.
I assumed that I was lazy.
I assumed that I was faithless.
I assumed everything, except the truth, that perhaps there was something beyond my own character flaws and hormones that was making me unhappy.
I actually remember saying a few times, "Can post-partum depression happen before you have a baby? Like, pre-partum depression?" At that time, I didn't know the answer was "yes," and that there was such a thing as prenatal mood disorder, but in hindsight, I totally had that.
I just couldn't figure out why life had lost its savor. I wasn't working, wasn't going to school, had SO much time on my hands to do whatever I wanted, and I didn't want to do anything except shopping for the baby and eating lots of good food. I didn't want to read, cross-stitch, see other people, watch movies, do housework, nothing. I had wanted that life, I had wanted for SO long to be pregnant, so why wasn't I happy?
I loved being pregnant, yes, but I was so (and I mean SO) fearful for my baby. Beyond rationality. Again, I assumed it was because I had gone through infertility and was so afraid losing this baby. I assumed I wasn't having faith that Heavenly Father would deliver my miracle to me. I assumed everything except the possibility of an anxiety disoder that was making me fearful of strangers stalking me and cutting my baby from my womb, leaving me to die and my baby to be raised by strangers (I wish I was kidding.)
Then I had Elijah. FINALLY!! (he was only 2 weeks late... ;)
And all I wanted to do was sleep. Not surprising, but I got upset when Matt tried to get me up before 10am.
I had low iron, that was why I was tired. Of course.
I was having trouble bonding. Also not uncommon.
I missed being pregnant (!!!) but assumed that my pregnancy jealousy was so deeply rooted in infertility that it'd never quite go away.
And then Matt went back to work, and I was calling him all the time. Can he come home from work early? Can't he take today off? Wouldn't it be nice to go to Costco together? Can't you just let me sleep a little longer?
And then I realized that I was feeling PMS-y all the time. I was getting mad at Matt. There were times I would be so emotionally detached from Elijah that he'd be laying on the floor crying, and I didn't know what to do, so I'd just sit there. I wouldn't cry, I felt too numb to cry.
I wondered if I had post-partum depression, but I didn't have many of those symptoms. It took until Elijah was 6 months old before it occurred to me that I might just be plain old depressed. I didn't know what to do about it though, so I left it.
And it got worse. And worse, and worse. Until last month I realized that it wasn't manageable. I was not functioning normally, I was an emotional wreck, I couldn't do it without help, my house was a disaster, I had no motivation, no time, Elijah wasn't napping, he was still nursing, so I was very house-bound, and...yeah.
**Sorry, this is taking longer than I realized. I guess a part of me wants to write it all down to look back on.**
So I went to see my doctor, and brought Matt along with me to confirm what I was feeling, but from his perspective.
Basically, my doctor doesn't think I have post-partum depression, but she does think I have underlying depression which is being aggravated by an adjustment disorder. Fancy words to say that I'm not adjusting to the life-change of having a baby, and my depression is kicking in in response.
She had a few suggestions, such as let Elijah cry it out overnight (as in, cry-it-out method, not leave him for 9 hours straight all alone) because he was waking up every hour to nurse.
Also, she said I should wean him because nursing makes my hormones go all over the place, and leaves my estrogen too low, probably adding to the crummy feelings I was having.
She also said that if I wanted to, I could go on Effexor, which apparently would be unsafe to take while nursing, but fine during the first 2 trimesters of pregnancy so I didn't have to go off meds to get pregnant, which to me was a big deal.
Aaaaand that's pretty much where we stand. Although, not quite I guess, because that was a month ago almost now! Wow, time flies so fast.
Elijah is now (mostly) sleeping through the night, although he likes to get up between 5:30 and 6:30, which I am not okay with.
He still isn't weaned, because we're having trouble knowing what to give him. We discovered that he has a mild milk allergy, so we tried boiled homo milk (apparently it could work?) but it still gave him hives. Now we're trying soy milk, except the stores don't carry soy milk they carry soy beverage, and it tastes disgusting, because I didn't know what kind to get so I bought the unsweetened kind, and it's...ugh. And Elijah thinks so too. So I don't even know what to do because he won't drink it, and I'm also entirely unsure of and overwhelmed by what his schedule should look like once he's weaned. How much milk does he need? How much solids? When should he eat? WHAT should he eat? And so on, and so on.
I'm getting really anxious to wean him, because I need to get away sometimes. I wanted to take a photography course in a week and a half, but he needs to be weaned by then. Also, I think I want to try the medication, but I can't until he's weaned.
I wans't too interested in trying the medication yet, but then Matt was home all over Christmas and could help, so I was feeling fine and like I didn't need it.Now he's back to work, and this whole week has been a hard one. Today especially, I felt like I just could not handle Elijah and life.
See, one thing that makes me really think that I do have depression is that, I do stuff even when I feel like laying in bed all day, and still I feel crappy.Today was hard, I sliced my finger open by accident, Elijah is teething and SO goobery (and I apparently picked a bad day to wear my black pyjamas...so gross) and was crying that whiny, non-stop cry for so long that I was about to start crying myself, and I have 5 loads of laundry to do but no motivation to do it.Still though, I made an extra effort to be a good mommy to Elijah, playing with him, snuggling, wiping his nose, playing the piano with him. I made Matt dinner, and made fudge (comfort food) folded a load of laundry, and unloaded the dishwasher.
And still, after all those things, it felt like there was a hole in my chest. It wasn't until Matt had to turn around from going to his meeting tonight because the roads were so bad that I cheered up and felt motivated to do anything, so I tidied the entire house, got changed out of my pyjamas, did my hair and brushed my teeth (at 7pm!!) and relaxed.
Soooooo....yeah.
I know I haven't really come to a proper conclusion. I don't know if there is one yet, I'm still working on that.I feel like I'm in the middle of this trial, and I don't know where to go with it.
In so many ways I want to get pregnant again. I loved loved LOVED being pregnant, despite the fears and anxiety, and I feel like I didn't do it well enough last time, and want a do-over so to speak.At the same time though, I'm worried about whether I'll feel crummy again emotionally while pregnant, and how I'd handle two children instead of one. Would I be able to nurse the second one, or would I need to go on anti-depressants? I've nursed Elijah almost a year, and I'm proud of that, but it hasn't been my choice to really, I've tried weaning him 3 times now, the first time at 6 months. Each time was a flop, and I can't wait to be done.
I want to go on Effexor just to see how it makes me feel.
It's so hard to imagine NOT feeling so chronically blah and empty, and to actually wake up in the morning motivated to work, and not just sit around reading blogs.I don't like myself a whole lot, to be perfectly honest, and I wonder if I'd like myself more if I was on the meds and feeling better.
One last thing. I never did anything about the possibility of having depression before now because I was worried that I would hide behind the label. It's definitely something I would do, like,Random Person - "Holly, why are you being such a snob?"
Me - "Hey, cut me some slack, I'm having a crappy, depressed day today!"Totally would do it. I know I would, because I'm struggling even now hiding behind it.
But I did something in the end because having the label and hiding behind it was better than not having the label, and dealing with it silently without help.
Because sometimes labels DO allow people to cut you some slack, or even just allow me to cut myself some slack, recognize my feelings for what they are and move past them.
So there. Loaded post #1, done!
And now to tend to my teething, grouchy, crying, I'm-going-to-wake-up-every-45-minutes-tonight baby!!
No comments:
Post a Comment