Officially four months and a day.

And that's where I am today. Four months along, plus one additional 24 hours. I'm still sick, and I'm fighting the effects of being off my medication, cold turkey for this amount of time. Shauna, thanks for the offer of reprieve. If I get too desperate, I'll certainly give you a call. Though I've done it before, and found the hard way WHY I continue to be on anti-depressants, it's always kind of a let down that I still need them. It's not that they give me some fabulous high, or make me feel like Mary Poppins, where I'm up for singing a song about everything at any time, and will even scrub my toilet with a smile....it's more about the little things I take for granted every day.
Getting out of bed. I've said over and over again that I walk in the mornings. That, for me, is worth mentioning because after I get Jeff's pitiful lunch ready and Riley's, and see her off to school, my bed is the next place I'm longing to go. Usually, that desire wins out and that's where I am for the next half of the day. It's a disgusting cycle. I'm so grateful that Cole is content with his toys, some snacks, some movies, and having free reign in my room while I doze, because I'd have one severely unhappy little boy on my hands. I feel really certain that this baby is the last I will be having. I'd not forgotten what it was like for me, but I had glossed over what it was like for Riley and now Riley and Cole. Like I said, my children put up with a lot, when it comes to their mother.
Taking care of myself. I usually will shower and get ready...yes, even though I just put on clean pajama pants, I still count this as getting dressed. But this is usually around 2:30pm, right before I have to pick Riley up from school at 3:00. I'm aware of the pathetic-ness of this action, however, feel too much apathy to care. I try for a good solid four hours of interactive time...and sometimes have to cut that short. (I can feel your opinion of me and my mothering skills dwindling with each new sentence. I can't defend myself a single bit, so continue judging).
Controlling my emotions. This is confusing to me, as well. Most of the time, and I think this is due to depression, I just can't care about anything. With the exception of my children and husband. I may not be that great at showing them, but I do try to let them know of their importance to me, especially now, when my actions say otherwise. But, and I think that this is mainly because of the pregnancy, I'm angry and sad and impatient and worried at any given second. I say things I regret, and I do things, when I actually do things, that I regret as well. I think it's better that I find a hole and crawl in, because I do less damage that way. I am reminded of my childhood, and how out of control I felt. It was the most terrible time, ever. Not only was I dealing with these emotions, but I was dealing with all these people that didn't understand, either, and just assumed I was mean. Or hateful. Honestly? I was...that's how I felt, constantly.
Blah, okay...no more pity party for me. My point, and amazingly enough, I have one, is that I only have five more months left. And I'm not crying as often as I have during my other pregnancies, so this, believe me, is a positive. And in all honesty, I have more good days than bad ones. I hate when I do have bad ones, because I can't even explain why it is bad. I just have this defective brain and when taking the proper meds, I can usually hide this embarrassing fact. But without them, hiding it progressively gets harder. So, don't be surprised if I just kind of, check out. This is what works for me, and somehow, makes everything easier. As a kid, this was my go-to response, and it's a working system. I know that there are things I could probably do, meds that would probably not have too much of a negative effect on the baby. (Supposedly this is to be somewhat reassuring?) But as with Riley and Cole, I've made the decision that this time I just need to concentrate on what's best for our new one. Having no education whatsoever in the medical field, maybe I'm just being overly ignorant. The thing is, though, I've dealt with this my entire life. I was that kid that acted strangely enough that my kindergarten teacher took my mother aside and said she was concerned about me...and why I wasn't happy. If there is any chance at all that I can save my kids from this, and I'm aware it could very well be hereditary, I'll do it. When they are happy, laughing their maniacal laughs and almost to the point of puking, because those of you that know them, know they will, that's when I am completely okay with this decision. And so far, no teacher has told me I have melancholy kids....so I'm hoping that at least I'm not making anything worse. I feel like if I can just concentrate on Jeff, Riley, and Cole, then I can get through this next five months without any massive break-downs. I promise that my next posts will be better, less on the drama. I just thought a little heads up was in order.