I Hate Mood Swings

Some things in life are inevitable. Trying to convince my mind of that, however, tends to be a little bit difficult. I suffer from some form of ongoing depression, but because I had little access to medical care outside of what I could afford out-of-pocket, it remains undiagnosed. Prior to my pregnancy, I’d been on two medications: one for depression and one for severe, blinding migraines. However, the moment we found out, I was taken off of both.

The mood swings that occurred early in my pregnancy should truly have been the warning sign, but since I was already prone to bouts of tears or unexplainable irritability, I didn’t question it. They cleared up around mid-April and then began again in earnest in late June (a month after I’d discovered my pregnancy).

Admittedly, I have a lot to be depressed about. I live at home with my parents at age 24; I’ve failed to receive the degree I financially ruined myself for; my financial situation is worsening; my health and my mother’s health are both growing worse; I have failed to keep my mother’s house clean in spite of all attempts. The list goes on and on and on.

But I also have a lot to be very happy about. I’m about to be a mom, something I never believed I’d be able to achieve; I’m engaged to the most sensible, sensitive, gentle, and generous man I have ever met; I am finally in the home stretch for a bachelor’s degree and well on my way to achieving the dream I’d started college with.

I am not necessarily unhappy. It’s just that, on any given day, the conflicting ups and downs of my life are causing the hormonal mood swings to rise and fall to a degree where I’d even call it Bipolar-ish. Today was definitely, for the most part, a “down” day, though.

I was woken up from what was possibly the deepest sleep I’ve had in over a week because one of my fiance’s mother’s dogs was throwing up/vomiting. Perhaps what makes me feel worse is that I assumed it was merely a bacterial infection and gave him some leftover antibiotics that the cat never took (don’t worry, I looked it up — perfectly safe for dogs!). I was half right — there was a bacterial infection, caused by an obstruction somewhere in his digestive tract. I still haven’t heard back to know if he’ll be all right or not.

The “up” portion of today was a meeting with Healthy Babies, a Wichita-based free parenting group. By going to the group, and several other methods, I may be able to “earn” my baby’s car seat in time for her birth. If not, there is plenty of time to earn something else from the list — like a Pack n’ Play or just some diapers or wipes. Plus, I’ll have access to a group of women that are all due around the same time, some of whom have had kids before (more recently than my mom and Brian’s mom), with different OBs.

Other pluses to the program include a 75% discount to the local hospital’s baby-related classes. DEFINITELY taking the baby/toddler CPR course. The program continues on till the baby turns two, which will be great when I start trying to figure out when I’m supposed to start something new.

I came home right after and fell right to sleep. I wanted to go with mom to her ENT appointment and now I really wish I had. I HATE doctors who don’t listen. She was sent to the specialist for extra tests. Instead he looks at her, goes “you don’t have an infection” and tells her to take Allegra for allergies. Um, DUH, she doesn’t have an infection. She’s been treated acutely for no less than FIVE sinus infections this year, the most recent with a month-long course of antibiotics that she only just completed. I wanted to throttle him, but noooo, I was asleep.

I was supposed to make supper for the night, but the meat didn’t thaw all the way (even though I took it out last night). So that was another major disappointment and there’s no other meat in the house. My iron is STILL low and I’m being ordered to eat more red meat. So, off to the store we go. My system crashes yet again when we get home because I, like the stupid person I am, had not eaten anything more substantial since 9am this morning. Then I start just bawling when I wake up because my appetite is completely gone again and I just can’t stand the smell of the meat that’s been cooked.

Brian goes to make me a plate and NOW I convince myself that I’m being ridiculous and follow him. I manage about half the steak he got out for me, and wolf down the mixed veggies, and glare at the rest of the meat. I give myself a pep talk in my head: I need more protein. I need calcium (I don’t drink milk, so I get all I can from other sources).  I need to give this baby food.

Well, that seems to motivate me, so I fight with the can opener (so much so that my mom actually asks if I need help with it, when normally our roles are reversed) and open up a can of refried beans (believe it or not, an excellent source of iron and protein). I make a bean burrito with lots of cheese and settled here to write this journal.

In summation, I’ve been a royal train wreck all day, and yet I still have managed to not snap at anyone yet. Though I did keep moving the stupid dog off of my stomach. Am I ever glad she doesn’t weigh much. The larger dog has tried climbing on me a few times and I think I’m finally beginning to get through to her. I’m not sure how much, though, because she still tries to jump on me when she’s excited.

And yes, the mood swings are daily.


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