I really really can’t believe that I am just steps away from the halfway point of pregnancy. I was thinking last night about how time was crawling by in June, waiting for our transfer. And it felt like a lifetime to get from 8 to 12 weeks. And then, here we are. Almost 20 weeks. I hear this phenomenon only intensifies after the baby comes out of the womb.
Mostly, things are going ok. Except that I seem to have lost my brain (I am sorry to all of the pregnant women whom I did not believe before; pregnancy brain is real) and my propensity for tears (already marked) seems to have taken up residence in the space my memory once occupied. Of course, one (the loss of blood flow to my brain) is full of cutesy stories; the other feels a whole lot harder.
I’ll start with the funny: Last week I forgot my job title. TWICE. I had to exit out of the document I was working on, open a blank e-mail (with my signature line – and title – on it) and then go back to the document. Of course, the first time I did this and returned to the document, I’d already forgotten my title again. Yep. Then I forgot my phone number, while in the midst of leaving it on a voice mail. I now have a card with both my work and cell phone number taped to my desk. What have I come to?
The sadness is broader, less easy to capture. I can’t quite explain what is making me sad, although I do manage to come up with reasons that at least allow me to cry about it and get some release. This morning it was about my birthday, which was a month ago and was, well . . .just kind of disappointing. Why am I thinking about this now? Why, because it’s La’s birthday, of course! What a perfect time to mull over your own disappointments – right when you should be celebrating someone else. Ugh.
What’s hard is that I can actually see how shitty and ridiculous all of this is from the outset (not even the end of the crying jag!) and yet it doesn’t stop me from crying or from feeling sad, even kind of depressed.
My bestie, Hero, is another sore spot. Since I last updated you here, Hero stopped seeing crazy Smokey, then decided to just stop taking her anti depressants, then took a tumble down the rabbit hole, then got back on meds (different ones) and since then has been in a very serious and deep depression. She also found out that her ex girlfriend (with whom she was in a terribly abusive and co-dependent relationship) is dying of cancer.
Shit has been hard for Hero. But she’s responded to it by, basically, isolating herself from everyone and everything in her life. I’ve seen her 2 times since September – once on a drive up to see the aspens where she chain smoked every chance she got, and drank a whole bunch at lunch; the second time at my birthday where she, again, spent most of the dinner outside chain smoking by herself. The third time she came over for a football game, saw we had other people over, went directly to the back yard where she – you guessed it – chain smoked, then asked to leave out the back gate. Every other plan we’ve had, she’s cancelled. She does call me sometimes and wants to spend hours on the phone talking which is a painful thing for me, since I am very public about how difficult phone conversations are for me.
I’ve tried expressing my concern for her in a lot of ways, but I also feel like the further I get into pregnancy, the less time and energy I have to be someone’s crisis call when that person isn’t also showing up for me. In our 10+ year friendship, Hero has been deeply depressed/dealing with incapacitating anxiety/in a hella fucked up relationship that renders her virtually incapacitated for – I’m estimating here – 7/10 of them. I’m starting to feel like I can’t continue to show up for her, when it feels like it’s just on repeat.
So, I kinda told her all of that. And probably, in another world where I wasn’t 19 weeks pregnant, I wouldn’t have said it at all or at least I would have been less blunt. So, there’s that too.
I’m worried about this sadness influx because I’m already on a medication (celexa) which I’ve been taking at the same dose for many, many years. I know pregnancy wacks out your hormones and makes everything a little weirder/harder, but I also don’t want this to get out of hand . . .out of hand could = OB instead of midwife. out of hand could = PPD, of which I am terrified.
So, I’m trying to manage. This is not really the rage of BCPs. It’s sadder. It feels like just needing to cry, or feeling kind of out of it, or feeling helpless. As a long time sufferer of anxiety, it feels hard. Anxiety makes you amped up, do things. This feels really small and quiet and hard. The plan right now is to call our very fabulous couples counselor to see if she’ll see me one-on-one and give me some tools. Try that for a while, and hopefully, it eases the flood of feelings. If not, I talk to the midwife and see where it goes with her.
In less distressing news, I am now feeling Seafoam just about every day, and with much more conviction! Although we are still not at “kick” level, it is definitely very clearly someone touching me from the inside (and very clearly NOT gas or indigestion or muscle spasms!) It feels neat. And weird.
On Saturday night, Cletus (aka the Big Bulldog) spent a few hours with his giant head directly on my belly. Since bulldog snoring works so well as white noise for me, I’m hoping with this prep, it will work well for seafoam too!
I also started some knitting projects, just in time for the cold snap! I’m making La a new squishy red scarf, and Seafoam a pair of varigated green/blue/brown leg warmers! I’ll make sure to post the final projects soon!
That’s about it. Here’s your requisite 19 week picture! I found an awesome maternity consignment store less than a mile from my house and scored another pair of jeans. I’m glad that I work in a relaxed office, because basically all I wear anymore are maternity pants, maternity t-shirts, a scarf and a sweater. My tights are thisclose to not fitting over my belly (I can do it still, but it isn’t pretty or comfortable) – any recc’s on good maternity tights (vs. leggings) for a tall girl?