I'm sitting here writing this post with my beautiful baby girl on my lap. I just can't get enough of her. I love her smell, her out of control hair, her cheeks, her multiple chins, her smile, etc. I smile just thinking about her and I miss her when she sleeps.
It has been a long journey from last October until now. I'm finally in a place mentally where I can look back on the last year and consider it a challenge, yet a blessing. I haven't talked about it much, but I want my children to read this someday and know the blessings that come from trials.
Matt and I decided to try for baby #3 last October. We've been very lucky in the fertility field, and found out the first week of November that we were pregnant. I didn't need a test to tell me. I was at the grocery store and went to open the refridgerator case and nearly threw up from the smell of milk. I also had a major panic attack later that day. I only did a test to confirm the pregnancy. I mention the panic attack because I have only experienced them during my first pregnancy, and hadn't since. Matt and I left the same day that we found out for a cruise. I did okay for the first several days, but by day 6 was in a bad way. I swear that at conception something inside of me changed, and not in a good way. From then on I started on a journey that took me literally to the depths of despair and finally back to normalcy.
I can handle morning sickness. I had had two pretty difficult pregnancies where I was freakishly sick. Physical illness to me is do-able. Mental illness is a different story. I started having frequent panic attacks along with being so sick that I was physically unable to eat for days on end. I made an appointment with a therapist, Therapist Rob, that I had seen for anxiety during my parents divorce/London's pregnancy. I am a HUGE fan of therapy, and figured I could talk my way out of my "slump." Rob quickly diagnosed me with severe prenatal anxiety and depression. Depression was something very new to me. I always equated it with "being sad for longer than average." Yeah, it's more than that. Rob suggested continuing sessions, but said that the chemical imbalance I was experiencing from this pregnancy needed ahole lot more than talking; I needed medication. I had a really, really hard time with this. I knew that an outsider looking in would say that I had nothing to be sad about. I had an amazing husband, 2 beautiful kids, another on the way, etc. I also knew that I shouldn't be sad. Nevertheless, I was. I conceeded to the medication for the sake of my family.
I'm a nurse. I know that medications take time to kick in. For me it took several months, and those months were hell. I rarely ate. I didn't drink. I barely made it through each day. My children will hopefully block out how un-present I was. I physically couldn't cook or clean. I didn't answer phone calls, but desperately wondered why no one was offering to help me. (yeah, it made sense at the time...) I wanted so bad to feel normal that when I had to go out I desperately tried to act normal. I dare say I put on a decent show. There's nothing worse, as a normally very rational person, than knowing that you're losing your mind. It sucks.
I remember asking Therapist Rob why on earth my Heavenly Father would do this to me and my family. I understood faith during trials, but me losing my mind and my family suffering because of it just didn't seem fair. I could see no silver lining. I asked Rob, "what on earth should I be learning from this experience?" His response surprised me. He said that this was a time for me to learn compassion. Compassion for others who have been or would be in the same situation. Compassion for myself. Just compassion. I needed to learn not only to serve others, but to be the recipient. That is something that is really hard for me. I went home and did something I never thought I'd do. I called my mom and asked her to come over and clean my kitchen. Needless to say, it was a VERY humbling experience.
I wish I could say that I was better sooner rather than later. I wasn't. It took months and months to have even a sense of normalcy. During this time I regret the feelings I had; most of them directed towards my unborn daughter. I resented this being that not only was physically was sucking the life out of me, but who's presence changed me mentally into someone I hated being. Then there was the guilt associated with all these feelings. Here I was; so easily able to conceive, when so many others I know could not. It took me a long time to get over these feelings.
The past year has been hard. I feel like my old self most days. Every once in a while the old feelings emerge, and I think it's a reminder of how good I've got it now. I am truly grateful of a Savior who is mindful of me and my family. I am grateful for a husband who asks me almost daily, "how we doing today..." meaning "how's your mental status doing." I apologize to my beautiful baby girl in private every day for all the negative feeling I had while I carried her. I have learned a lot about myself. I have compassion towards others that is much greater than I ever thought possible. I am truly blessed.
Okay, look at this face! She is just so squishable!
