All posts tagged depression

Baby Steps

Published February 23, 2012 by Hemlock

We’ve all heard the news about Mo and it’s heartbreaking, however, I’ve found that I need to separate myself from it a bit.  Maybe it’s a bit selfish, but the more I thought about what happened to her, the more I thought about the possibility of it happening to me.

I can’t handle that possibility right now.

I’m back on my meds, and I’m glad.  I feel a bit more stable and put together, though it concerns me.  I worry that I won’t be able to stop them, and then I worry about what kind of effect that’s going to have on any potential pregnancies.  It’s the struggle in my brain of knowing that being depressed while pregnant isn’t good, but then there’s the risk of birth defects… *sigh*

Anyways, I know that right now I need to be on my meds.  I was quickly spiraling into a dark pit and didn’t realize it.  I was flipping between moods constantly, I was eating continually (I put on about 10# in a month), I wasn’t cleaning the house, and I was snapping at my dog.  If I had gotten pregnant, I don’t think I could have handled another miscarriage.  I wouldn’t have committed suicide or anything, but I don’t think the results would have been good.

I freely admit that my outlook on TTC is grim.  After the number of unsuccessful pregnancies I’ve had, it’s inevitable.  I don’t really know how I feel about that.  Part of me wants to stay positive, but there’s a part of me that wants, and needs, to stay realistic.  I worry about what will happen if I do manage to hold onto a pregnancy… will I be able to bond with my unborn child?  Am I doomed to suffer from post-partum depression?

When I was active on the Craigslist forums, there was a woman who, like me, had suffered through 6 or 7 miscarriages before she finally went on to have a baby boy.  She disappeared for a while, but a few months later I was able to get into contact with her, and found out that she’d been through some serious post-partum issues but was doing better.  Am I doomed to this as well?

I don’t know… only time will tell.  All I know, now, is that I need to take baby steps.  First and foremost, I need to get myself under control and I need to drop weight.  I’ve opted for the non-medicated PCOSer’s path, so I need to get my insulin levels under control, and the only way I can do that is to drop some weight and get a handle on my eating.

Baby steps, right?



Published January 14, 2012 by Hemlock

I think I’m doing better today.  The stress of last night has messed up my system a bit so I’m a bit queasy and having to force myself to eat (gotta love homemade ginger tea).  Other than that, I feel a bit more stable and was able to pop onto Facebook today and see my friend’s post and actually feel a bit of bittersweet happiness for her… it’s a step in the right direction.

Today, I plan on eating a couple of Double Cheeseburgers from Burger King, and continuing my therapy of Skyrim, possibly some Dark Ages of Camelot, and quite possibly watch some Firefly!  I have absolutely no plans to exercise today!

It really is interesting to see the kind of perspective you can gain by simply taking a time out and sleeping it off.  It still hurts, but it’s ok.

Wasn’t ready for this…

Published January 13, 2012 by Hemlock

I’ve been doing pretty good off my meds.  Having bad days here and there, but today was a pretty bad day.  I was struggling with dwelling on things, and it took some serious effort to even get dressed this morning/afternoon when I got up.

So far, I’ve done pretty good when it comes to reading blogs, though I admit that I no longer get notifications when a new blog is posted.  This way I can view them when I’m ready vs. having my Inbox blast various announcements at me.  It’s worked thus far.  

I read MO’s latest blog (and I’m very happy for her), and I think it’s amazing how she’s trying her hardest to be considerate of her Facebook friends who are going through, or have struggled with, IF and whatnot.  It’s still a bit rough to read, but it was very sweet, and really just shows what an amazing person she is (and what an amazing Mom she’s going to be).

Anyways, I was busy playing Skryim, and figured I’d take a little break to go wake Xannatos up from his nap and I had my Facebook page open.  Do you know what accosted me the moment I had alt-tabbed out of my game?  A smart-assed-cutsy pregnancy announcement from one of the girls I went to school with.  I immediately broke down.  Seriously, I’m still fighting back tears.  I know that it was inevitable that she would get pregnant, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they had been struggling with IF as she was very overweight (frankly, she was obese), but it was like someone threw a right hook at me – repeatedly.  She posted three pictures… one was of four separate pregnancy tests all showing positive results.  The next was a picture of her and her husband (also an old high school friend) holding up a a single sheet of paper with a giant and colorful ‘R’ on it and completing that pic was my friend holding up a Prego spaghetti sauce jar.  The last was a picture of just my friend holding the Prego jar. They were both clearly overjoyed and happy, but I couldn’t stop myself for hating them for just a moment.

I’ve never been faced with a Facebook Pregnancy Announcement, and you know what?  It really fucking sucks.  I’m so jealous that I’ll never be able to be that happy about being pregnant (should it happen again)… I’m jealous that they feel comfortable enough to post an announcement in the first place.  I hope for, and wish them, the best but at the same time I’m incredibly hurt.  I know that she’s not trying to hurt me (though she does know about my struggles, and we’ve talked about it before), but because she knows, it somehow makes the announcement more hurtful.


Time To Remember

Published January 7, 2011 by Hemlock

Today is January 7th – three years since my first, and only, D & C. It’s not a procedure I’d wish on anyone.

You see, it was my first known pregnancy, though I suspect I’d been pregnant before then but just not known it at the time. The baby stopped growing at about 6 weeks, and I was diagnosed with a blighted ovum with the complication of a subchorionic hemorrhage that had sent me to the hospital at 4am a day or so after Christmas. I ended up switching OBGyns for a second opinion as I didn’t feel the first OB’s office handled my situation appropriately.

Xannatos was out of town at CES, where I was to meet him, when I went in for my final ultrasound to verify that the pregnancy was ending. You see, because of the blighted ovum, my body just wasn’t catching on that there was a problem and kept producing all of the necessary pregnancy hormones, and I felt very pregnant; my Morning Sickness was horrible. Due to this, the doctor wanted to perform another ultrasound to verify my diagnosis.

I remember laying back on the table, and just knowing this was the end… after all of this, the news wasn’t going to be good. You know what? It wasn’t. The ovum was incredibly distorted and just looked unhealthy compared to the previous ultrasound images I’d seen. After seeing that image, I knew it was over, so I took a deep breath and asked what the next step was. I didn’t, and wouldn’t, allow myself to break down. That would be for later. Unfortunately, that would have to be alone. I was offered three options: The first was to have the D & C performed, the next was to wait it out naturally, and the final was a shot of something along with some pills that would trigger the miscarriage. In the end, I opted for the D & C. There would be no waiting, and no poisons put into my body.

I was terrified… I’d even say petrified. It’s one thing to know, logically, what happens during a natural miscarriage, but I can tell you from experience that it’s completely different to actually go through one. I don’t find them quite as traumatizing now, as I know what to expect, and I’ve been through so many that I know how my body responds and because of this experience, I will never have another D & C. I would have to say that the surgical procedure was more traumatizing than the natural miscarriages.

I remember going in still feeling the ‘glow’ of pregnancy, and then coming out feeling completely… empty. I felt hollow inside.

The nurse in the recovery room was a very sweet old lady who held my hand. I remember coming to, and crying quietly and uncontrollably. It was a while before I was composed enough to be moved to the next room where I would meet up with Xannatos. I don’t remember the exact change of events as the anesthesia had put me in quite a groggy state, but I remember, very distinctly, telling my husband that this wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. I also, very clearly, remember a lot more crying.

To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever really gotten over it, and I really, honestly, think that I suffered from a mild case PTSD. Most people might say that I’m crazy for that, but that’s really how I feel. Now a days, it still bothers me, but I’ve had so many miscarriages that it has just become part of the process of becoming a mother.

The fact of the matter, though, is that here I am three years out, and I can still feel the emptiness I felt on that day… the hopelessness… and the darkness. I don’t wish these feelings on anyone. No one, not even the idiot crack whore, or teenager who manages to get knocked up deserves to feel what I’ve felt.