One out of every 10 people is on anti-depressants. I’m one of them. But what happens when a depressive who’s reliant on medication gets pregnant?
Hiya!
This is a blog about attempting to make your own humans (and failing miserably at first, but eventually succeeding), parenting, marriage, working mom life, aging parents, and being an imperfect human.
Belly envy
It’s hard to be in public sporting your pregnant belly. That voice in the back of your head reminds you that not long ago, strolls through the mall could bring you to tears.
Boobs
I can’t sleep, I feel like barfing, and I cry at the stupidest things. As I get closer to 15 weeks, all those things will disappear. But thankfully, there’s one dreaded first trimester malady that hasn’t gone away. Yay!
Needles, woods, and other things to leave behind
Every milestone signifies the start of something new, and the end of something else. Hopefully someday one of these milestones will give me permission to relax.
Congrats! Prepare to suffer.
Parents are now warning me how hard babies are — and the misery I’m in for. What they don’t understand: the warnings aren’t really necessary. I’m already terrified.
A Delicate Balance
Is it dangerous to know too much about the possible bad outcomes? How can you keep the happy ending in mind when your head is contemplating a Quentin Tarantino ending?
Stealing my husband’s thunder
I’ve been waiting a few weeks so my husband can post his own blog about what’s happening with our baby-making mission. But I guess I will jump the gun and let the cat out of the bag. Hey, who likes idioms?!
Not a BFP. More like an LTP.
Being pregnant is an absolute. You either are, or you’re not. Right? That’s what I always thought, but like many things in this dog-and-pony show, I am learning as I go.
An Infertility Christmas Newsletter
All Christmas letters, if they’re being honest, should extoll the good AND the bad. Mine tries to do just that.
All I want for Christmas is the truth
Christmas is one of my favorite times of year, but there are a few blemishes on this lovely season. I’ve determined the most awful part of the holidays: THE CHRISTMAS LETTER.