Turning 29 is having an unexpected effect on me.  I have this overwhelming sense of anxiety and urgency.  I feel like I’m so far behind  where a “normal” 29 year old should be.  The driving force is the fact that I don’t have any kids and am not pregnant.  Because Tareak wants children so badly I’ve felt like a ticking time bomb since the moment we got married.  Unfortunately for Tareak I have an expiration date.  I can’t take all the time I need to figure out my issues with having children.  I have a deadline, and that deadline is quickly approaching.

I lowered my dose of Paxil  last month to 10mg.  10mg of Paxil doesn’t really do much, I’ve just been trying to ween myself off.  I wish I could say that the decrease of dosage didn’t have any effect on me, but my trichotillomania has increased (Paxil is often prescribed to treat trichotillomania) and I have had several minor panic attacks.

I am to the point where if I look 30 years in the future I want to have children be a part of that future.  It is frustrating to not feel like I am capable of making that happen.  It is even more frustrating to celebrate a birthday, that in the birthday world shouldn’t be that big of a deal, and not feel like I have anything to celebrate.  It is only a reminder of how quickly time is slipping away and how far I am from where I want to be.

I came across this quote today and it reminded me of depression.  When in a depressed state you can’t do anything physical, mental or spiritual- you don’t even want to do anything.  This beast of complete and all consuming inactivity takes over your life and there is only one way to escape, or at least begin to pry yourself free… and that is to do something, anything!

You don’t want to get out of bed.   You want to be able to sleep and escape it all by just lying there and doing NOTHING, but by forcing yourself to get out of bed (which wouldn’t be considered an accomplishment by most) you feel a twinge of hope, hope that maybe today will be a good day.

I’ve learned that as long as I do ONE thing each day (some days it is as simple as taking a shower or playing with the dogs and other days I can manage to actually leave the house or do a load of laundry) I am able to stay somewhat sane.  If I feel good after doing one thing that day, then I can decide if I’d like to do another, but if I don’t want to, that is OK.  I’ve given myself permission to only do ONE thing each day, and anything else is a bonus.

I get overwhelmed so easily and this is why I have a hard time seeing myself as a mother one day.  Right now it is okay if my “one thing” is to get in the shower.  If I have a kid I’ll need to feed, bathe, dress, and play with them until I can escape while they take a nap.  This is a whole lot more than “one thing”.  This is why it was so hard for me to work and go to school.  Work was one thing and school was another  and some days I could only manage to do one of them, and some days none because I was so overwhelmed I had to “check out” of life.

So like Mr. Charles Steizle said, I’ll just keep on doing at least one thing every day so that I won’t be “damned” to the hell that is depression.

In my world mental infertility does exist.  It is the reason Tareak and I don’t have any children.  If I was mentally healthy, children wouldn’t be an issue.  Mental illness, like physical (versus mental) infertility, is hard on everyone involved and can put a strain on marriages.  In addition to dealing with the regular challenges of marriage, infertility can cause feelings of sadness for the loss of potential unborn biological children.

I am mentally infertile for more than one reason.  I have to be on medication to manage my mental illnesses.  This medication is dangerous to the fetus during pregnancy and to the baby through breast milk.  I know all pregnancies have risks, but because I don’t want to increase those risks substantially I cause myself to be infertile due to my mental illnesses.  If I were to choose not to take the medication, I would still be mentally infertile, but for different reasons.  If I don’t take medication and manage my mental illnesses during pregnancy, I can actually harm the fetus more than if I was on medication.  The stress and problems that arise from not managing the mental illnesses effect the fetus and not only cause premature birth, but can weaken the child’s immune system for life.  Without the medication my moods are unstable and there are days I can’t even take care of myself, let alone a child.

So is mental infertility a real disease?  Absolutely!  Infertility (physically) is a sensitive topic that isn’t often discussed (hence the National Infertility Awareness Week), but the topic of mental illness is even more taboo.  Mental infertility is very real and very hurtful in many ways.  Even though they might not admit it or want to talk about it, mental infertility effects more people then you would expect.

Jacy- 8 weeks

My plans for getting back on track with blogging were disrupted by this cute puppy.  Tareak and I decided we wanted Kaya to have a friend and thought a puppy would be fun for all of us.  Neither Tareak or I have ever had a puppy before, so we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.  Jacy is an 8 week old rat terrier and when she is full grown will be the same size as Kaya.

Having a puppy is harder than I anticipated.  In the last week I haven’t slept for more than 4 solid hours at a time.  My body is tired.  My brain is tired.  My sister asked me if having a puppy made me more or less excited to have a baby.  My answer was definitely LESS excited!  I think I am more of an older child/older dog type person.  I don’t mind adopting dogs from the shelter that have been locked in a basement their whole life and only have one ear.  It gives them character.  Many people don’t like the idea of adopting older children because they are “damaged”.  I think this is what draws me to them in a way.  I feel like I can identify with some of the mental struggles they must be going through and I want to help.

We have had Kaya for almost 2 years.  She is a permanent part of our lives and family.  We had a rhythm and a routine that everyone followed.  When we adopted Jacy this whole routine and rhythm was disrupted.  Kaya was very jealous of our newest addition.  If I was holding Jacy, Kaya wouldn’t come and sit with me.  My heart was aching because I felt so bad for Kaya.  I didn’t want her to feel like she was being replaced or had to compete for my attention.  She was mad at me, and I could feel it.

The other night Tareak and I were watching a movie and Jacy was sitting on one couch with me, and Kaya was on the other.  I wanted Kaya to like me again, so I put Jacy on the other couch with Tareak hoping that Kaya would come and sit with me.  She didn’t.  I waited and waited.  The movie was over and she still wouldn’t sit with me.  I tried to hold back the tears, but I couldn’t.  I wanted my old life back.  I didn’t want a puppy any more.  I resented her for ruining everything.  I wanted Kaya to like me again.  I wanted to SLEEP!

Kaya must have known something was wrong because the next morning she was back to her old self.  She has taken Jacy under her wing and allows Jacy to bite her ear stub, jump on her while she is sleeping, and everything else that comes along with being an older sister.  She will sit with me when I am holding Jacy and I know she isn’t mad at me anymore.  I still haven’t had any good sleep, but things are definitely looking up.

This whole experience has really made me reflect on having children.  At least I wanted a puppy, and so the struggle and disruption is something I can accept.  What will happen if I have a baby that is even more disruptive than a puppy?  Will I resent the baby too?  What will happen if I adopt older children that will also disrupt and turn my life upside down?  Will I cope with that any better?  So many questions, but still no answers.

I will try to keep blogging as I find a new routine and rhythm in life and hope there will be no more puppy tears.