This is not my first pregnancy. This will not be the first time I go into labor. But if all goes well this will be my first child brought to term and delivered healthy, happy and alive. I have two months to go now and I am still hyper vigilant about everything. Every bump and punch goes noticed and counted. Every lack of movement is panic-inducing. If there is a span of more than a couple hours where babybean is quiet I spend the day frantically feeling around and anxiously waiting until he kicks one…two…three…four… times “phew” and he’s moving normally. I am anxious all the time about everything to do with pregnancy. Weird pain? I’ll spend hours researching the internet and finding out if the pain is normal or some horrible sign something has gone wrong. I check constantly what is coming out of my vagina – is there blood? Does that look like blood? OMG what if it is? What if something has gone wrong and I’m not noticing the signs like I screwed up last time and … *insert panic attack here* This is not your normal pregnancy anxiety.
I haven’t been able to enjoy the pregnancy. I like to say that the nursery isn’t done because there is a large dog living there, because we don’t have the money, because, because, because. The truth of the matter is it isn’t done (and wouldn’t even be painted but for the kind interference of my sister in law) is because I’ve spent most of this pregnancy waiting for something to go wrong. For the baby not to make it. I don’t want a fully decorated nursery if there is no baby to go inside it. I don’t take “belly pictures” and the thought of “belly casting” and 3D ultra sounds send me into an anxious fit. I don’t read to my belly or talk to it very often – other than begging that he move so mom can stop panicking. I am paranoid about anything touching my belly and I wake myself up constantly at night so afraid I will roll over onto my front and “squish” babybean or break my water (which is what happened last time).
On the surface I am doing what I should be doing. I am starting to (reluctantly) buy clothes and baby items. I might even enjoy it that day. I blog about the weird and fun things I should be thinking of – like my belly and feet and other pregnancy things. Usually when I do I’m having a good day and do feel what I write about. Happy/excited etc. I have chosen a name for babybean but still don’t use it very often. On days like this though (which represent abot 90% of my days) I feel anxious and detached from the whole ordeal. Sure my back hurts and I pee a lot and my feet are twice their size but I either ignore the whole “pregnant” thing completely to survive the day or it’s all I think about and send myself into an anxious tizzy worrying that I failed at being pregnant yet again.
The loss wasn’t that long ago. Last May in fact. It was sad and terrible and traumatic as well. I’ve been told by professionals in the mental health field that I suffer from a form of PTSD due to the nature of the loss. That I share symptoms with people who witness a terrible accident or suffer some other form of trauma. I finally got into a program to help me through this, I see my lady today, and wonder if I should start on the pills they suggest. Anti-depression/anxiety meds I’ve been on before. I’m at an extremely high risk for PPD. I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and mild depression a few years ago but it’s been awhile since I needed pills to function. This whole loss and subsequent pregnancy has sent my mental faculties into chaos.
It would be better for babybean if I wasn’t so stressed and anxious all the time. I discussed with my Ob/Gyn the need for pills and he feels it would be better for both me and baby. He is also worried about the “crash” emotionally after baby. So today I go into see my lady councillor and tell her that yes I think I will need some pills, thank you. She’s been good to me and I am beginning to trust her as well. She suggested I “journal” and share the loss someday when I am ready – to relieve the burden I carry. Even Fatherbean doesn’t know the whole story (to spare him the extra pain of not being there for me – he was at work and tried so hard to get away). Perhaps sometime in the future I will share.
I want to stop living with anxiety about everything. I want to remain calm and positive 90% of the time instead of the other way around. It’s time I worked on getting better so that when he gets here I can give babybean the life he deserves and the best and healthiest mommy I can.