It's been a rather long time since I've posted, hasn't it? March has arrived, spring is here, my children continue to change and grow, and somewhere along the line, I feel like a part of me has been lost. A heavy old feeling has returned, and this time I have a happy little life surrounding me. There is no bad relationship to blame. The days of infertility and pregnancy loss are behind me. Sure, there's a lot to be stressed out about - still not having a job, getting older and wondering if I'll have a chance to be a mama to a third (biological) child, running out of money... these are all things that I encounter in my mind and heart every day. But the darkness I feel taking up residence again I have now come to accept as something else - why is it so hard for me to even type this word - depression.
To admit that I'm not just lazy, not a terrible procrastinator, not irresponsible, not at fault... to set aside labels that I have used on myself for years and years... why is that so hard? It's easier to blame myself than to think that perhaps these symptoms that have plagued me for so long are not just a failing of my will to change. Ironically, though I have spent a lot of time in therapy, I have not used medication for depression aside from when my marriage was falling apart and I was in the worst grief of infertility. And now that I really believe that this is truly clinical depression that I'm dealing with, I have no health insurance or savings left to deal with it.
I have envisioned this blog as a place to record the story of this little family - to share it with family and friends, to connect with new people... and ultimately, to have it as a gift for my sons. I hesitate to write about the darker moments of parenting.
One thing I am proud of, though, is that in these past months that have been tarnished by panic attacks, muscle and joint pain, and the dark paralysis of this strange and unwanted internal despair, I can truly say that all the energy I have summoned has gone to my children. I haven't written my resume or kept on top of all of my bills, but I have spent countless hours playing with Max and Shoghi, celebrating their little lives, cooking for them, researching their development and trying to come up with ways to engage their curiosity, looking into their precious eyes, hugging their beautiful bodies, washing their diapers, telling them stories, and re-discovering the world through their experience of living. I know that even in my worst hours, I am a loving mother to my boys, and that is a gift to all of us.
So, this is the reason I haven't been posting much. It is hard for me to admit that things have really gotten this dark - and it's been very sad for me to come to the realization that if this is not situational depression as I had guessed in the past, that I may well have to deal with the truly terrible affliction of depression for a good while. Have you dealt with depression or a disease of chronic pain or fatigue as a parent? If so, please share your experience!