let's try this again
So who wants to know how the story goes?
Well, I actually was pregnant. Totally and completely pregnant. I didn't get the promotion at work. Even though I hid my pregnancy until well past the halfway mark (what can I say, people don't really notice when you are this fat). I returned to writing in my usual blog. The one where everyone actually knows me and wants all the news of my life but where I can't speak frankly because I might offend people.
So the baby was born at Christmas. She was perfect in every way. So perfect I barely experienced any pain in birthing her. Honestly, the only part that hurt was when I had to push her out and really, that only hurt for like a second as she damn near shot cross the room. She's spent the rest of her life making up for her agony free beginning. She cries all the time. She cries if you move her and she doesn't want to be moved. she cries if you don't move her. She cries cause it's to dark, or too light, or too cold, or you breathed on her. She is training to be an opera singer or something. She cries louder than any other baby I have ever heard. She can clear a room with her crying. Even my parents roll their eyes when she starts up. I've been specifically told I'm not welcome in certain social settings if she is with me. I thought that the crying would get better as she gets older. Turns out, it just gets louder.
Oh, and I think I might be depressed.
Just a little bit depressed.
Not like PPD, or throw my kids in front of a passing freight train depressed. Just depressed in that way that makes you stare at the sky for minutes at a time thinking "time is passing and I'm just sitting her staring at the sky listening to my temperamental child scream and wow, I'm still doing it and this a formidable waste of time. maybe I should do something. Nah, you'll just make her scream louder."
Does that sound like depression?
Well, I actually was pregnant. Totally and completely pregnant. I didn't get the promotion at work. Even though I hid my pregnancy until well past the halfway mark (what can I say, people don't really notice when you are this fat). I returned to writing in my usual blog. The one where everyone actually knows me and wants all the news of my life but where I can't speak frankly because I might offend people.
So the baby was born at Christmas. She was perfect in every way. So perfect I barely experienced any pain in birthing her. Honestly, the only part that hurt was when I had to push her out and really, that only hurt for like a second as she damn near shot cross the room. She's spent the rest of her life making up for her agony free beginning. She cries all the time. She cries if you move her and she doesn't want to be moved. she cries if you don't move her. She cries cause it's to dark, or too light, or too cold, or you breathed on her. She is training to be an opera singer or something. She cries louder than any other baby I have ever heard. She can clear a room with her crying. Even my parents roll their eyes when she starts up. I've been specifically told I'm not welcome in certain social settings if she is with me. I thought that the crying would get better as she gets older. Turns out, it just gets louder.
Oh, and I think I might be depressed.
Just a little bit depressed.
Not like PPD, or throw my kids in front of a passing freight train depressed. Just depressed in that way that makes you stare at the sky for minutes at a time thinking "time is passing and I'm just sitting her staring at the sky listening to my temperamental child scream and wow, I'm still doing it and this a formidable waste of time. maybe I should do something. Nah, you'll just make her scream louder."
Does that sound like depression?
posted by Dealing with it at 10:57 AM
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