February 7, 2011

Shock, Awe and a Little OMG

Last week I was feeling absolutely miserable. After Bear being put to sleep on Sunday, I spent much of the week with puffy eyes and a stomach ache. I started going to bed earlier because I was having trouble sleeping. I was super tired. I felt like my world had been turned upside down. . . again.

Towards the end of the week, I was about ready to go see a doctor. Something was off; something just wasn’t right. I felt like I was becoming depressed and I know the symptoms of depression can be very physical.

The last month was stressful. Mr. BBM and I spent an entire weekend going through our basement, box by box. I found some letters my Grammom had written me while in college and sat there sobbing before I could move on. We created piles of things to get rid of, mostly baby things, and it was difficult for me. I get this weird connection to things that I shouldn’t, like that onesie that I know Sassy wore that one day when she smiled for the first time. However, with Mr. BBM’s assistance, I made decisions and I ended up with a pile of baby stuff to sell. I felt good in some respects. I had separated it and made a price list. All I needed to do was get over the hurdle of getting it out of the house.

I’d get teary when I thought about it though. Sassy goes off to Kindergarten in the fall. I was going to be alone, in my house, without any baby stuff.

However, what made me agree to sell the stuff was two-fold: despite the fact that Sassy is going to school full time next year, I was starting to enjoy the idea of some freedom to work out whenever I wanted to during the day. I changed my schedule at the University where I teach to work within the girls’ school schedules. I realized I’d have time to grade at home without having to set Sassy up with a movie or some other activity. I had friends tell me they admired where I was in life. With a 9-year old and a 5-year old, I was getting my life back somewhat. It was a good place to be. Mr. BBM and I also wanted to make a little money off of selling the stuff. We figured we could put it towards an eventual trip to Jamaica or something equally cool.

That was Friday, before 4 p.m.

Friday night was Mr. BBM’s work holiday party. Last year, the actual dinner ended early and a group of us went out to a bar frequented by 20 somethings. We had a blast. The dress was mostly jeans and t’s but we showed up in cocktail dresses and took over the dance floor. I knew his co-workers had big plans for this year too. I was hoping I could make it physically, but I was feeling so tired.

It occurred to me as I was about to start getting ready that maybe this wasn’t physical symptoms of depression. Maybe this was the worst case of PMS I had ever had. Why was it so vicious and awful this time around? Why was I feeling so miserable?

“Wait, what day is it? Hmm, I’m late. . . it’s probably just from stress,” I thought.

But something made me take a test. . .

The plus sign was pretty much instantaneous. I dropped the test and told myself that the + sign was actually an x, as in “You are not going to have a serious unplanned adjustment to your life.” I scrambled for the directions and then compared the two, back and forth. I could hardly believe it.

I screamed for Mr. BBM who came running, thinking there was a problem with a leaking shower or something. Once inside the locked bathroom, I showed him and I’m fairly certain he was without words.

There were lots of things said then, once we both picked our jaws up off the floor. For a while, I think I repeated, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no” as I imagined myself needing not one but now two bridesmaid dresses since my sister’s wedding is in May and her reception is in July; and then I asked “How could this happen?” Mr. BBM was happy to explain that part of it. I didn’t want to hear it. Then I reasoned that perhaps I was going through early menopause and that was the reason for the extremely positive test. And then there was a lot of giggling after the shock of it all began to wear off, because seriously? Neither of us had any plans for a third. I had always said I wanted a third but after Sassy’s pregnancy and gestational diabetes, I wasn’t willing to walk that road again and take that chance. On Saturday morning I took another test, just to be sure. It wasn’t really necessary. The way I’m feeling, the way my body is so rapid-fire remembering what to do. . . it’s drastic.

I’ve learned that sometimes you don’t exactly get to choose if you’re going down that road again or not. There must have been a reason I didn’t get rid of that baby stuff after all.

Coming home from a swim meet this weekend, Mr. BBM and I heard Alicia Keys’ song on the radio. A couple lyrics in particular stuck out, “Would it make us seem crazy. . . or would it be so beautiful. . . ” I’m thinking right now it’s a little bit of both. Apparently I am not capable of sending a child off to Kindergarten without bringing a new little one into the house. Usher’s lyrics also come to mind, “Oh my GOSH!”

I called my midwife this morning and made an appointment. The receptionist pulled my chart and this afternoon one of the midwives called me and set me at ease about the whole gestational diabetes possibility. I imagine my midwife cracked up laughing when she heard I needed an appointment again. I distinctly remember telling her when I was in those last few weeks with Sassy, how happy I was that this was the very last time I’d be going through labor and delivery again.

Today is my birthday. This is one crazy and completely unexpected birthday present!

How quickly things can change. . .