Pre-natal depression - the gift that keeps on taking

Yesterday, I commented on how in my previous life I was a physically stable person. I was an emotionally stable person too. I am no longer.

I've never been overly demonstrative with my emotions. I'll hug you, kiss you, tell you I'm proud of you but I'll never let you see my fragility. To me, it's always been a weakness and something I've never been comfortable with. So you can imagine that as someone who strives for emotional strength, the ongoing hormonal challenge of pregnancy is constantly a struggle.

This of course, is made worse by depression. I have felt the difference and can attest to the fact that depression has stolen the last bit of emotional stability I had. Not only do I no longer trust my physical strength, I no longer trust my emotional strength.

This was confirmed yesterday afternoon. I didn't leave work until 6:30pm and felt overwhelmed by my 9 hour day. The minute I left work I was on the verge of tears. For no real reason other than tiredness I guess. I’d also had a hard day at work and was in a bit of pain with my round ligament.

I walked to meet my husband who was sitting there patiently waiting for me. The minute he stood and said "Hello baby" I just burst into tears. Right there in the middle of the City, I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. He was asking me what was wrong and I couldn't speak. Finally, when I could compose myself, all I could say was "Sorry I'm late."

Even as I write this, I feel the tears well up again. Depression has robbed me of so much and now it's taken my confidence to simply go out in public. Having such a public breakdown is a horrible experience. But, I didn't really feel embarrassed by it, I felt robbed. Robbed of the wonderful experience pregnancy is meant to be. Robbed of the happiness and joy I want to feel. Robbed of the supposed pregnancy "glow" I’m meant to have.

Never did I think pregnancy would be such a mentally draining and anguish riddled experience. Even after the miscarriage, I just wasn't prepared. But I guess no one ever is the first time around. I know my experience is more tainted by my losses, which is of course compounded by the depression. But, it makes me wonder if it’s a chicken and egg process. Did the miscarriages cause the depression or did the depression just come? Either way, it's here and now the next 6 weeks of my life are all about managing the effects of pre-natal depression while juggling the demands of working full time.

On the bright side, the one thing that makes me smile, and pushes me to battle depression head on, is feeling Sticky move. Each little bump reminds me it's a fight worth fighting. And it reminds me that depression may have taken many things from me but it hasn't taken her. It hasn't taken that amazing feeling you get when you feel your child move inside of you. It hasn't taken away my determination to fight back. My friend texted me this morning to say she saw a car number plate that made her think of me – it said “Go Me”. And really, that’s all I can say to myself at the moment.  

I hear Sticky’s little voice saying don’t worry about crying in public or what other people think. I guess it's true what they say - when the pupil is ready, the teacher will appear. So maybe, this is all about me learning to be more open with my emotions. And maybe, Sticky is the perfect one to teach me it's ok to do it.