The things we don’t discuss…

*This is the story that made me decide I should blog. The weight I felt lifted after sharing it with others was unreal, and the response I got was amazing.*

I didn’t think I could have children. For multiple reasons. The first one being that I am 80% sure I had a miscarriage back in ‘98(ish). I was too afraid to go to get a check up at the time, which is why I’m not 100% sure.. but I’m not going to go into all the details, because that’s not the story here. What I will say is that incident planted this seed of doubt that my body wasn’t able to reproduce.

Years went by. I mean yeeeeeeeaaaaars, then I got married. We were not careful, but also weren’t trying. We had one “maybe??”, but no baby. I had taken birth control off and on for years (to help w cramps and mood swings) and when I decided to just go off of them, the doctor told me that it would likely take years for me to conceive. She said that I had so many odds stacked against me, it would take a lot of planning to have a baby. Which just solidified my thoughts that it wasn’t in the cards for me. And I honestly didn’t know how I felt about that.

The other issue worth discussing, is my history of depression and anxiety, pretty much since childhood. I have taken meds off and on for what feels like my entire life: Prozac, Zoloft, Cymbalta, Effexor… Some good results, some not so good. So, part of my coming to terms with not getting pregnant was the lingering fear of what would happen if I DID get pregnant. What would my anxiety/depression do? Could I even keep taking meds or would they harm the baby? But could I survive without taking meds?? I didn’t know. And I wouldn’t have had any way of knowing.

Until it happened. Surprise!
I was pregnant.

That’s when they told me I had to stop taking Effexor. I weaned myself off as slowly as I could go… but it was still bad. Anyone who has withdrawn from these kinds of meds knows the struggle. At that point however, I couldn’t tell what was withdrawals and what was the pregnancy. I had headaches, mood swings, nausea, sweating, body aches, ringing in my ears, did I mention the headaches? And man was I scared. All the fears, all the failures, all the doubt that anxiety and depression bring, came back full force!

The thing that I realized though, was that a lot of pregnant people go through this too. This was (somewhat) normal. It’s hard, painful, exhausting work we do as our bodies morph into baby carriers. The shift in reality, the shift of responsibility, seemed more than I could bear some days. But I had to keep going. I had a reason. A new life to protect.

I would love to say that something in my brain shifted, I “got over it”, and my pregnancy was great… but that didn’t happen. I put on a brave face but spent more time in tears than I want to admit. I grasped at controlling everything I could, which comes with the anxiety of the unknown. I kept seeking reassurance because the depression made me feel like I wasn’t good enough and couldn’t find my center.

I did learn some things though. I learned to recognize what was my brain playing tricks on me and what were valid fears. I learned different coping skills and deep breathing that had not seemed to help before. The need to change myself, to help my baby, pushed me in ways I never thought were possible. I found a better balance, but I will reiterate that none of it was perfect. In fact, it’s still not..

After having my son, postpartum set in and my fears and anxieties were overwhelming. He was early, and we went back and forth to the hospital the first few weeks because of his jaundice/high blood count. Those feelings of helplessness and fear were unlike anything I had felt before. The lack of sleep and general delirium made things feel so much worse. My brain ran wild with all the horrible possibilities of things that could happen (anxiety). I loved this baby with all my heart… but was that enough? Am I enough?? (depression)

So many things can go wrong.. and I probably imagined all of them. But I was able to dig back down into my coping skills, deep breathing, distracting, and calling myself out on my irrational thoughts. I figured there would be a tipping point and that I would be back on meds soon… but I pushed myself because I wanted to breastfeed, and you can’t breastfeed while on many of the psych meds. So I tried to hold off until after we got done with nursing… and in that time, slowly things started getting better. Easier. We got a rhythm down. His health was better, I was feeling more secure in motherhood, and we had a good support system.

My goal of nursing him as long as he wanted just kept postponing the potential of resuming meds again. I started having the realization that I may not actually NEED them. Not right then anyway.. I was feeling ok. And so was Asher. We were doing it. We were living, surviving, thriving even. Not that there weren’t difficult days, because there sure were plenty of those! But somehow I had a new purpose and raising this child gave me a new focus, a new hope. He gave me more optimism and somehow curbed much of my depressive thoughts. It’s still there, just lessened somehow.

It all seems miraculous to me. The change of my mindset from anxious brain and depressed affect to motherhood; a kind of wholeness in me.

It’s been over 5yrs now. The anxiety still lingers and some days I snap at him, or hold onto control that isn’t necessary. I go through phases where I wonder if this is the time, if I need meds again. I wonder when that point will be, because I fully recognize that time may come. And there is no shame in taking meds! They do absolutely help and are necessary for getting your brain back in the right chemical balance. But, it’s also interesting how our brains can change a bit too. How motherhood changes every aspect of our lives; physically, emotionally mentally. Not always for the better. It’s a struggle all around.

Ultimately, I think it’s important to talk about all of those changes, good and bad. I’m thankful that mine is mostly good, for now.

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