Part of the plan of coparenting this baby is for me to move into Mike's house and for us to live together for the first year of Baby J's life. We made this decision primarily because didn't know how to realistically split time with a newborn, and we also wanted to establish ourselves as a family. My lease is up at the end of October so, at first, we thought we'd do the move at that time (which would have put me at 7 1/2 months pregnant). After some wonderful advice from a friend and mulling it over a little, however, we decided to tackle the move now, while I am still in my second trimester and while we have some time to adjust before the baby arrives. For anyone contemplating a similar situation, this was a REALLY good decision--a big thank you to my friend D for the advice. I am SO GLAD we did the move now, and I highly recommend taking on big changes in small steps.
First of all, I am probably feeling as good as I will feel during this pregnancy, and even though I've had a lot of help, the move still really has been too much for me. My body is completely spent, which makes me even more grouchy and irritable. I can't imagine doing this 10 or 20 pounds heavier, when we are also trying to do showers and birthing plans and classes. Secondly, although I knew this would be an adjustment, I had no idea what that really meant.
In addition to the physical difficulties, this move has taken me to my limits emotionally. There are days when I feel like I've lost everything that is mine. Most of my stuff is in storage. I'm living in someone else's house, with someone else's stuff, and someone else's way of doing things. Someone else has taken over my body, including my physical abilities, my ability to focus, and even my moods. And, as things seem to go, life has not made it any easier. For example, the day I moved my cats over to the new house, one of them was so traumatized that she bit me (hard), sending me to urgent care. I was trying to keep the cats happy, keep Mike from worrying, and worry about myself and Baby J, and I just lost it--over and over again. I also lost a good portion of my hard drive while moving my computer--I'm still not sure what happened there. To make matters worse, the first night sleeping in a new house was horrid--I was exhausted, but didn't sleep at all and sat up and cried several times. I kept thinking that my life is never going back to normal, and it's always going to feel this awful. I'm never to going to get the sleep I used to get, or have the privacy I used to have, or be in control of how the household runs. And, the final cherry on top--of course I couldn't stop worrying that all this stress and worry (yes, I get the insanity here) would harm the baby. Sigh.
It's a lot of change at once, and I didn't really want to talk to Mike about it, because I think he is having to adjust just as much as I am and there's not really anything to be done. It's just a really tough adjustment period. One bright spot is that I've never once questioned or regretted my decision to have a child or to do it by coparenting this way. In the midst of feeling this awful stress, depression, and anxiety, there is a certain peace in knowing that nothing needs to be fixed. Things are just hard right now. I tend to have a good day and then a bad day, so if I can just hang on, I can make it to the next day. Some days I count the hours till I can just go to bed. Other days I'm productive--today I'm even writing a blog post!
For anyone who's ever suffered from depression and/or anxiety, you know that awful, sinking, helpless feeling it brings. I have battled it for years, and I AM winning the battle. It's so much better than it used to be; however, it still flares up and it is flaring up now. Lately, on days when I have that feeling that I can describe as nothing other than depression and despair, I just hang on. The weird part in all of this--that has not occurred for me before--is that I am happy. I know I am on the right path. I know it is going to be okay. I know I have what I want. I am happy with my life and I am depressed. It's the strangest feeling and I have learned not to overanalyze it. I just hang on. Hang on, hang on, hang on.
I wouldn't necessarily recommend this strategy for everyone. Often we wait way too long to seek help for depression and anxiety, so if you need help, please get it. For me, however, I feel like I have continued to seek professional help and continued to apply what I've learned for years. I have (and continue to, as needed) utilized antidepressants, gone to therapy, faced my demons, and used the tools I've been given to manage my life. It has worked. The bad days are MUCH less frequent and last for MUCH less time. For whatever reason, though, I am predisposed to depression and anxiety, and they still hit me when things get hard. Maybe they always will. I have found that there's very little I can do in the midst of it to feel better. So I let myself off the hook. I write the day (or week or month) off as a bad one. I don't blame myself anymore. I don't try to fix it. I do what I can and I let it run its course the same way I would let the flu run its course. When I stop resisting it, it seems to show up less and less.
I wouldn't trade this experience for anything, and the only way to fully experience is to walk through all of it--including all the ugly parts--by putting one foot in front of the other. Happy days are ahead. ♥
