The death of the baby shower

25 weeks – Sticky now weighs about 700 grams and is about 35 centimetres long. I can’t believe that something that long is growing inside of me. But, the strangest thought is she could easily grow another 15 to 20 cms before she pops out!

At times I’m still in total disbelief that a baby is cooking away inside of me. Sometimes, I find the thought so surreal that my brain just won’t process it. I think it’s all too much and it needs to shut down. Then, Sticky kicks me and I’m back into reality.

Speaking of my reality, I struggled over the weekend. My round ligament is getting worse so I’m finding it difficult to walk or get up from a sitting or laying down position. Basically, I just never know if I’m going to be overcome with a stabbing pain and fall to the ground. It makes me hesitant to get up but of course, I have no choice. I try to be mindful of the way I move so I put all the weight in my arms and rise slowly. It doesn’t help. I’ll either fall to the ground or I won’t. It’s become a pretty scary prospect for me to just move. The mental anguish takes its toll so I end the day feeling exhausted.

A friend came to visit me yesterday and bought me a little baby gift. She said “I thought you’d be having a baby shower so I’ll give you the proper gift then.” To be honest, I feel so exhausted and fragile at the moment a baby shower is the last thing on my mind. The prospect of sitting with a big group of people, opening all of these presents fills me with dread.

I don’t feel like I have the emotional stability to cope with that at the moment. Maybe I will once I finish work but then it’s the end of November and everyone gets busy in December and then it’s only a few weeks before Sticky comes. Nope, I’m thinking it’s much easier to say I won’t have one and be done with it. I guess it’s one of those things I need to do at the moment – make the decision that feels right for my mental health.

Gees, it’s not like me not to have a party when I actually have an excuse to have one. It’s moments like these that I suddenly realise the deep and immense impact pre-natal depression is having on me. Oh well, maybe I’ll be in a better state of mind when Sticky turns 1. We’ll have a party then!