DIARY

Anxiety

If You Only Ask

I went into the birth of my second child absolutely convinced I'd experience at least some degree of the postpartum depression I dealt with after Indy was born. It was something I brought up at my very first appointment after finding out we were expecting, and something that I touched base with my doctors about over the course of the next few months. I didn't want it to catch me unguarded and without a plan in place, because with a toddler and an infant to think about, being that emotionally out of sorts even for even a day didn't feel like an option.

My primary concern: you know how I've written extensively about my insomnia (which is largely related to my anxiety)? Well, when you have a newborn, you sleep even less. And less sleep = a greater chance of suffering from PPD.

At the mid-point in my pregnancy, I went to meet with a psychiatrist (which I should have done a long, long time ago), because even though I didn't want to start any new medications while expecting, I figured you know what? I've been dealing with this problem long enough. I've tried lots of different things - some that have worked for a time, and some that haven't worked at all - and if there's a longer-term, more stable solution, I'd like to find it. What we decided: that I'd start on an extremely low-dose daily antidepressant immediately following the birth. I don't suffer from depression, but apparently this kind of medication can help to shut off the sort of ruminative thinking that characterizes my particular type of anxiety.

(As a side note, this decision to try medication wasn't something I was going to talk about here - it feels so, so personal - but then I realized: am I ashamed that I suffer from insomnia and anxiety? No. Am I ashamed that I've tried lots of different things over the years, and that now I'm going to try this? No. And I know that these are issues that a lot of people suffer from, and that a lot of people feel ashamed about, and I believe with all my heart that there is no shame in being open about your struggles and seeking out help wherever you can find it.)

Best

The Birth Experience

I didn't go into this experience feeling brave.

When the nurse came into my hospital room, checked me, and said that it would be time to push soon, I started shaking so hard that my teeth clattered together. I didn't want to do it again, didn't want to think again that I might be dying, or that my child might be dying because I wasn't strong enough as a person or as a mother to get her out of my body safely.

I also didn't go into giving birth determined to have a "birth experience" like I've heard so many mothers-to-be talk about. I thought a birth experience was the domain of women who chose to go the all-natural route, who wrote out detailed moment-by-moment plans and wanted to involve things like baths and midwives and custom playlists and fancy breathing exercises. I thought that I just wanted to have the baby, have it hurt as little as possible, and be on my way so I could get to the real stuff of motherhood.

Baby

Good Things That Happened In The Hospital That Were Not The Baby

1. First, Morgan came to meet Goldie and brought me Burmese food from an apparently quite famous place in San Francisco. Now, I am not a person who hears the words "Burmese food" and thinks "YES." It would be more accurate to say that I am a person who hears the words "Burmese food" and thinks "….?"

Because what, exactly, is it? Is it…spicy? Is it…noodles? I had no idea, but now I know, and what Burmese food is is basically a sunbeam compromised of everything delicious in the world. It's sort of a mashup between the best parts of Thai food and the best parts of Indian food, and now that I've had it, I want it all the time. I would like it right now, in fact.

…Morgan?


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