December 01, 2006
It's time to start thinking about it again, the whole pregnancy thing. I got my period this week which is significant in that this is the first time I've gotten my period since losing the pregnancy and since my body is obviously starting to function it brings up the question of when do we start trying to get pregnant again. Although there really isn't much question. Time itself answers that. It took us years to get pregnant last time and I'm not getting any younger, so if we want to have two kids spaced a reasonable distance apart and do it before age starts complicating the matter, we need to start trying again right away.
The only problem is I'm scared to death, but I'm not scared of what might seem like the obvious fears. Not being able to get pregnant, the trials and tribulations of trying to conceive, the possibility of losing another pregnancy, those aren't the things that terrify me. What scares the bejeezus out of me is the seemingly contradictory fear that I will actually get pregnant. If we try to get pregnant we may well succeed and that's what has me so frightened.
I haven't talked about it much, but the eight weeks I was pregnant were an absolute nightmare. I had "morning sickness" 24 hours a day seven days a week, I was so exhausted I couldn't do anything, my breasts hurt so bad that it was torture just wearing a bra, and I existed solely off of crackers and ginger ale. But those are normal symptoms of pregnancy and I could have dealt with them if it weren't for the fact that the pregnancy hormones caused my depression to morph totally out of control. My doctor kept me on my anti-depressant while I was pregnant and I took my meds religiously, but they were no match for the hormones.
I've suffered from depression all my life and thought I knew how bad it could get, but nothing I'd experienced before was as terrifying as the pregnancy depression. Calling it depression isn't even accurate since it was much more like temporary insanity. The hormones hijacked my brain and emotions and what was left in their place was hatred, rage, paranoia, and an overwhelming desire to die. After years of trying to get pregnant and fearing it would never happen, my sanity left me once I did conceive and I found myself thinking that the last thing I wanted was to have kids, which turned into a seething hatred towards Ross and the baby. I hated Ross for getting me pregnant and wanted to tear his face off. I couldn't stand him anymore and often thought of running away but knew that wouldn't solve the problem. Even if I ran, there would still be the baby, I couldn't get away from that thing because it was inside me and I hated it for violating my body with its presence. I became certain the baby would destroy me, that it was killing me, and that's when I started to have bizarre thoughts about gouging my insides out with an ice pick or buying a gun and ending it all. Some days all I did was stare at a wall and fantasize about buying a gun. And poor Ross, he feared that I wasn't going to survive pregnancy, that he'd come home one day and find me dead.
Of course, this may lead you to wonder why didn't we do something about it because obviously something had gone very wrong, but that was the awful part. Ross did try to get me help but there was none available. My doctor was booked for a month so she told us to call the obstetrics department, but none of the obstetricians could get me in before November. They told us to contact another department, and that department told us to contact someone else and so on. It was like being set on fire and running around screaming for someone to help but the most anyone would do was yawn and tell us they didn't own a fire extinguisher and suggest the name of someone who might. The closest we got to ever getting help was a doctor who suggested I be admitted to a psych ward. Ross and I just sat there with our mouths hanging open. Psych ward? What would they do to me there? How long would I have to stay? Once I got in, would I be able to leave voluntarily? Was a psych ward really necessary? The answer to that is probably yes but, before we had time to consider it or find an alternative, I lost the pregnancy.
Despite how traumatic being pregnant had been, the loss was still devastating, but the aftermath was eased somewhat by the fact that I so quickly returned to normal. Once the pregnancy hormones ebbed, the all consuming depression and psychoticness disappeared. One night I went to bed a lunatic and the next morning I woke up sane, which was proof positive that it was the hormones that turned me into a candidate for the insane asylum. Not that there was ever any question it was the hormones, at least not for those who were sane enough to rationally assess the situation, but when I was in the midst of the mayhem I couldn't see it for what it was. I feared that I was seriously nuts, that maybe I'd always been on the verge of full blown, grand scale mental illness and I was terrified that it was part of my biology that was late to surface but would never go away, so it was a mammoth relief when it became obvious that it was, in fact, hormone induced.
My doctor confirmed that when I went in to see her a week after I lost the pregnancy and she spent a long time talking to me about it that day. I felt humiliated when I had to explain how bad things got, but she said pregnancy hormones can and often do wreak havoc, to the extent that up to 30% of women experience depression during pregnancy and 12% suffer the extreme type I did. And in my situation, when you do the math, it all adds up. Normal but overwhelming stress and fear about becoming a mother + adverse physical symptoms of pregnancy + predisposition to severe depression + seriously whacked out hormones = total mess. What happened to me wasn't surprising she said and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me, it was just the result of hormones gone wild.
That was a relief to hear, but still left the problem of how are we going to have kids if pregnancy causes me to go nuts and that's when my doctor explained that every pregnancy is different, that you don't experience the same symptoms every time. Again, that was a relief, but it doesn't guarantee I won't have another sojourn to the insane when I get pregnant again, and my doctor agreed. It's possible I'll flip out but, as my doctor pointed out, at least now we know about the potential problem and we can figure out a contingency plan. Knowing what may occur and planning for it, that's the key, and it's what we're working on now. My doctor referred to me a psychiatrist who specializes in depression meds so that we can find the right medications to better treat my depression (both when I'm pregnant and otherwise) and I was referred to a therapist for talk therapy. Along with that, there are some books on depression during pregnancy and, between the team of mental health experts, the books, and working with my doctor, we're hoping to figure out how to get me through pregnancy without me losing my mind or life in the process.
But suffice it to say this whole experience has left me very battered and bruised, which makes the decision of when to start trying to get pregnant again extremely difficult. We basically have to choose to subject me to months of extreme depression which, in many ways, is the same as choosing to place my life in great risk. Probably needless to say that's not an easy decision to make and I don't know if I'm ready, but then choosing to inflict months of living hell upon yourself is probably something you never actually feel ready for. So I guess the question isn't whether I'm ready, but simply whether I can survive it. If only there were some sure way to answer that, if only I could know in advance that I'll be able to make it through. But life doesn't come with those kind of clear cut answers or guarantees, sometimes all you can do is assess the risks and decide whether or not to jump.
Oye. Let's hope my parachute is packed a little better this time.
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