I will admit, the green monster has been biting at my heels of late. My reader is full of pregnant women and new born babies and it’s getting hard to read those posts. I am, of course, so happy for these women. And it’s not even that I’m sad for me. It’s just that reading about all that, it makes what I don’t have feel so much more real. Like the absence of it is more palpable when I’m reading about other people having it. Posts about starting to wear maternity clothes or taking first baby bump photos or hearing the heartbeat or feeling the baby kick or writing a birth plan or staring into their newborn’s eyes or posting new born photos, they are all poignant reminders of what I’m trying, and failing, to achieving.
I don’t want to be jealous, or envious, but I am. I am. I’m embarrassed to say it, but I am. And it’s almost as hard to open my reader these days as it is to log into Facebook. It’s the blessing and the curse of this community I suppose; people who are trying to get pregnant eventually get pregnant. And while that brings us hope and happiness, it also stirs up other, more complicated emotions.
And I know I could step away but really, I don’t feel I have license too. And I also know many of these women still need support, because pregnancy is just one step in the long journey to a healthy baby and so much can still go wrong and they know it and it’s hard. Just like it was hard for me when I was pregnant. I don’t want people to ditch me if I’m ever the lucky one again and I’m still getting over the heartbreak of good blogging friends leaving me when my going got tough, so I can’t just step away. I can’t.
What I need is a serious attitude adjustment. What I need is a whole new set of glasses, preferably rose tinted, please.
What I need is my fucking medicine. Goddamn I’m so sick of not taking it.
What I need is to start mindfulness meditation again. To return to my yoga mat, which has been collecting dust since I first got sick over two months ago. What I need is to raise my heart rate and get some endorphins in my system.
What I need is to get fucking pregnant. 😉
Of course, I can only ensure that some of those positive changes come to pass. I just need to find the energy to make them happen. And hopefully if I do, an attitude change will follow. What’s hard is making those positive changes when your attitude is so negative. Those first weeks are so hard. And I just don’t know how I’m going to take the first steps to get myself somewhere better.
Fuck you depression. You fucking suck. You have stolen the better part of a year of my life. I will not let you steal the next one from me, no matter what horrible shit lies in wait. I just wish you weren’t such a formidable foe. I wish I stood more of a chance against you. But I will prevail.
Fuck you depression. I will fucking prevail.