In my first trimester, I struggled with depression quite a bit. I cried daily at work, at home, before bed, ALL the time . I was sad for no reason at all. Of course I was scared about this new life change, about what it would do to my marriage, and my body felt bombarded with the new changes that pregnancy brings about. I was fighting it. Fighting the changes, struggling with them, having daily boxing matches with them, cussing at them and not feeling like myself at all.
Not only was I "sad" but I was having fits of rage as well. I would find every little thing to nit pick about my co-workers, my family, and my friends. I distanced myself because this rage brought out of me courage to speak my mind and I had little reservations of others feelings. I thought that the check out lady was checking my groceries too slowly, so I'd let her know. I thought our waiter wasn't giving us antiquate service, so she would also be given a piece of my mind as well...I cussed out my boss and almost lost my job, luckily he felt sorry for me and agreed to keep me, as long as I didn't lose my mind again! I wasn't taking crap from anyone, and everyone owed me something...I didn't want to be a door mat. I experienced a heightened awareness of bad drivers on the road, and let them know it too.
My mind was far away in a distant pregnancy land and I was living in a foggy cloud of hormones, fighting my way through my bad attitudes and negativity. I isolated myself because had I been around people, I would have torn them a new ass. My family knew all too well what a major bitch I was and didn't like it at all. I felt very alone. It was rough.
At each doctors appointment, before the doctor could even come in and say "good morning!" I was sitting hunched over with my head in my hands, drool dribbling down my chin, red eyed in tears, and not able to explain exactly what was ailing me.
I shared my struggles with a few of my friends and family and the most common response to my depression was:
"This is the happiest time in your life, what do you have to be sad about?! Don't you WANT this baby???"
It wasn't about me not being ready, or happy, or wanting my baby, It was about my body not handling the hormonal changes. It was something I felt I didn't have control over.
So my doctor decided I needed, desperately needed to go on Prozac. She said that the baby would be fine and she wanted me to go on it right away! I went home, prayed about it, talked to Dustin about it, and decided that I wanted to take a more natural approach to my chemical imbalance, if that was even what I was experiencing. Each appointment, I kept telling her I needed more time to think about it...but her idea was, If I'm this bad now, she didn't want to see what I would be like after the baby once the dramatic hormone changes happened again.
The struggle continued until about half way through my 2ND trimester. I started to perk up. I had more energy. I stopped throwing up 5 times or more a day. My awful migraines stopped. I was resting a little easier and life was looking clearer.
I was utterly convinced that after Conrad was born, I would be on an anti-depressant for a while until my body readjusted and I felt more like myself. I also wanted to be a good wife and mother and If i was still stuck down in my pit of despair, how would I tend to my baby and experience the joys of motherhood to the fullest? I felt like it would be safe to take the drug for just a few months and be open to it.
After he was born though, I only experienced one fit of sadness. Our friends were coming over to bring us food and I didn't know they were coming. The baby had just gone down for a nap so I was trying to steal a few precious minutes of sleep before all hell broke loose again. Dustin called me to let me know they were on their way, and just as I hung up the phone, my heart dropped. I got all hot and sweaty, my heart started racing, and I was scrambling to find clothes that I felt comfortable in, and get my hair combed. I wasn't ready to face the world. A wave of anxiety was rushing over me, I was shaking and nervous. This was the first time I was seeing my friends again since the baby was born, and not only that, but Conrad had to wear a harness that I was uncomfortable with him wearing in public because I felt like he would be made fun of, or people would be uncomfortable holding my sweet little baby (which people were). When they got there, I cried. I was exhausted, and shaken up. At this point, I felt like it was time to consider the help of medicine to balance me out....
Days passed, I was enjoying my baby and he was eating well, we weren't struggling with breast feeding any longer, my husband was adjusting well to going back to work, my family was helping us with groceries and coming over to help us. The days weren't looking so grim. I felt like myself again. My body was shrinking and I felt excited for each new challenge to come.
I write this because I felt like a failure to be considering medicine to deal with my depression. I felt like I should pray harder about it, or just tough it out. But that wasn't the case. It was out of my control, and although I never took Prozac, I shouldn't have felt guilty for weighing my options. Moms have enough pressure as it is and it can be overwhelming to alter your life to fit another person in it and still juggle your marriage and time for yourself. It's OK to use medicine and mothers shouldn't be so hard on themselves for it if they do.
That's all I have to say about that. Now lets see what Chris Crocker has to say about Depression....I warn you, he's hilarious. Thanks Ashley!