The Other Grieving Mothers

I have been battling depression for the last year and a half now at a minimum, if not longer. After Andrew was born I struggled with post-partum depression so severely that I begged my doctor to put me on anti-depressants. I knew that if I had a little boost to the chemicals in my brain, it would tip me into a place to become more productive. More "with" my family. And she agreed. After a few weeks I could feel the effects and by the time I had the levels in my system for almost 2 months I was acting alive again. I could contribute to our home more and enjoy my boys and our new son so much more. From what my doctor could tell I would be able to back off within a year of Andrew's birth that it was truly just a short-term need. I still believe that to this day.

Then Andrew died.

Talk about forget about me being on anything. I tanked. Who wouldn't I think.

I went to the doctor again and told her that my baby had just died with tears in my eyes and a quivering voice. I couldn't hardly go on. Had such difficulty living and getting up. I forced myself to go to work after 1 week of being off after he died. It was more to give me some sanity. Some normalcy. To be at a place where Andrew had never been. Although I don't believe I was extremely productive my first week back. Anyway, I asked if we should/could adjust my medication. And again she agreed with me.

In January of this year I headed in for my medication check-up and was glad to be reporting that I was finding certain interests returning. A general pleasure in life coming back to me. A sort of optimism. She was very encouraged with my report as was I. She reduced my medication to the pre-death of Andrew level and I was hopeful that I would be off of it by the 1 year anniversary of Andrew's death.

Then came the discovery that we were pregnant again. And, due to conflicting information on the effects of antidepressants on a fetus, I weaned myself a bit for a week and then dropped my medication. While this is not recommended by any doctor or pharmacist, I did not want the baby to  be in danger. Furthermore, the only way I could sleep while on my medication was to take a high level of sleeping medication. That meant 1 1/2 Ambien plus 2 over the counter sleep aids. Otherwise I was unable to sleep at night. The side effect I suffered from the antidepressant and a very nasty one at that since then I was knocked out and was unable to function for 10  hours afterwards. Ambien is considered extremely hazardous for a fetus. So to lower those levels, I had to be off the antidepressant. So for the next 2-3 weeks I suffered from extreme withdrawal. Headaches, extreme moodiness, shakiness, extreme fatigue (like I needed help with that feeling), lack of appetite and more. It was awful.

Tomorrow it is in 2 weeks that we find ourselves at the 1 year anniversary of his death. And I am so scared for that day. I find the depression falling upon me again and a part of me wishes I could take my medicine again to give me a little bit of a help. And then I wonder where my faith is in all of this? If I really see God as bigger than this, all-powerful and able to comfort me and take care of this, why don't I act like it? I have seen me heal me of depression. He did that when I was 19 and entangled in a double depression. (Now that's a nasty thing to have and was a tough time.)

But here I am struggling to be alive. To be present. I work so hard during the week. I am so busy during the work day trying to get everything done, trying to help out my teams so that their jobs are a little bit easier. And I try to stay on top of what they're doing. Some want more involvement from me. Others don't. And some desperately need it and are starting to realize how I can help them so I am getting more and more things to do to help them be more efficient.

And then on the weekends, I have given so much during the week, I practically collapse on the weekends from the physical exhaustion a 42 hour work week demands of me as this little life grows inside of me.

While I used to like the challenge of my job and want more responsibility, right now I wish it was not so demanding and stressful so that I had something left at the end of the day for the boys. And forget about me interacting with my husband. By the time the boys are put to bed, I am so tired, I want to relax for a few minutes, unwind and go to bed to start all over again the next day.

Hopefully this heaviness and depression will pass shortly after June 4th.