Wednesday, June 29, 2005

JONES!!!

Nothing like this had ever happened to me before today. I've had my share of food cravings, but this was insane!

I was driving home from Boston (husband had final surgery, went excellently well). Halfway to Worcester, out of the blue, I needed...hard core needed...A Burger King Chicken Sandwich and Fries.

Every exit between Boston and Worcester had Stupid Fucking McDonald's*.

Now, I haven't really ever lived in Worcester before. When Husband and I were dating/engaged he lived here, but I only spent every other weekend with him, and when we went out to eat, it was to Boomers or Tortilla Sam's or The Sole.

I spent my first three years of life in this city, but my parents were pretty much health nuts, so fast food was taboo. Occasionally Nana Berg would take me out for McDonald's, which was fine when I was wee. Now my tastebuds have matured, I realize that Burger King Fries are far far superior...they are crispy on the outside and potato-y on the inside. Mmmmmm. McDonald's has soggy, mushy fries. Blech.

Point is, I had never learned where the Burger Kings are in Worcester**. I had to find one. Had to. I do not know if I can truly explain how desperate I was.

So I drove and drove past what felt like about thirty McDonald's and a few Wendy's.

At one point, I realized that I was on the verge of tears. I wanted that sandwich and those fries so badly!

Finally Finally Finally I found one. I literally shreiked with joy and started a stream of

"ThankYouGodthankYouthankYouthankYouthank
YouthankYouthankYouthankYouthankYousomuch!"

I cannot remember the last time I enjoyed food so much.

Now I am sitting in front of my TV, sipping the remains of my Sprite, and I am contented.

Mmmmmmmmmm.

*I should say that I do not hate McDonald's totally. I like their McFlurries and that fruit salad they came out with recently. Everything else sucks, though.

**There were 3 BK's near my place in Providence. Funnily enough, Providence has the fewest fast food restaurants of any city in the country.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

I've been meaning to write this for some time.

I think the whole Tom Cruise/Brooke Shields thing is what has pushed me to talk about it sooner than I would have liked. It's topical. Or at least part of it is.

For those of you who don't watch television or read magazines or talk to people who do, Brooke Shields has written a book called "Down Came The Rain". The book discusses her Postpartum Depression. In it she says:

"I started to experience a sick sensation in my stomach; it was as if a vise was tightening around my chest. Instead of the nervous anxiety that often accompanies panic, a feeling of quiet devastation overcame me. I hardly moved. Sitting on my bed, I let out a deep, slow, guttural wail. I wasn't simply emotional or weepy like I had been told I might be. This was something quite different. When PMS made me introspective or melancholy or when the pressures of life made me gloomy, I knew these feelings wouldn't last forever. But this was sadness of a shockingly different magnitude. It felt as if it would never go away."

That last sentence is what clues in many therapists and psychiatrists to the difference between being depressed (a temporary state of mind) and Depression (an illness).

Making reference to her book, Tom Cruise has said "When you talk about postpartum, you can take people today, women, and what you do is you use vitamins. There is a hormonal thing that is going on, scientifically, you can prove that. But when you talk about emotional, chemical imbalances in people, there is no science behind that. You can use vitamins to help a woman through those things."

I am not going into Scientology here, or into Tom Cruise’s personality. This attitude towards PPD transcends religions, genders...it is a sadly common thought.

I remember when I was diagnosed with Depression. It was in college. I was disgustingly thin. Exhaustion doesn't seem to be a word strong enough to describe what I felt physically...it's more like I was numb...a zombie. I would be either unbearably sad, crying for hours at a time, or venomously angry at myself, so far gone that I would spit insults at a mirror and smack myself in the head when I didn't do something "right".

I bristled at the thought of medication. I firmly believe that too many people today take a pill for their problems when therapy and homeopathic remedies can work just as well. I think that some children with attention deficit disorder can benefit from behavioral therapy and structuring without medication.

I have also learned that sometimes, all the natural world has to offer is just not enough. I tried it all, therapy, changing my diet, vitamins, herbal supplements, exercise, the comfort of my faith. None of it made the raw hopelessness go away, or even get better. Unless you count the hours of prayer that made me realize I was not failing anyone by getting chemical help. I was doing a service to myself and all who loved me.

Some things are not hormonal. They are not moods. All the self searching in the world can not change the fact that some of us have brains that are not making enough of something.

There is tremendous pressure these days on women in general, and mothers in particular. Most of it is totally understandable...it's is the most important responsibility many of us will ever have. There is a different pressure, one that is totally unrealistic, and yet we put it on ourselves. Everyone has an image of a "Perfect Mother" in our heads. It's different for all of us, based on our own mothers or primary caregivers, images of motherhood in the media, literature, and probably a dozen other sources depending on the individual.

This is very choppy, I know. I am going to put this up, and leave it open for anyone’s comments. I will go into this more in the future, I think.

Friday, June 24, 2005

I am feeling good about myself.

Isn't it funny how accomplishing small things can make us feel wonderful?

I did the dishes, got groceries, cleaned the kitchen, living room, bathroom, our bedroom and the dining room. This is a bigger deal than ordinarily because a. most of the stuff I put away came out of boxes buried on the back porch and b. our new place is three times the size of our old place.

I marched into the office/baby's room and told my Beloved that he had better appreciate me for all I achieved tonight.

Though cleaning house is just an everyday thing, It felt fantastic to have the energy to do it. My husband was in the living room, working on his laptop, and I was cleaning. So sane.

I guess it makes me so happy because it is very normal. This past week I have felt more normal than I have in months. By normal I don't mean "like everyone else" or "the way people should be".

I felt like myself. I felt like a happily married woman who is turning 26 in three days and has an uncertain yet promising future ahead of her.

By the way, I still haven't forgotten about my Motherhood Rant. I just need to get some research done so I have a good argument.

I would like to be able to sleep, though.

Ah, well. Thankful for what I've got!

Monday, June 20, 2005

First Sunday in June.

I want to be asleep right now, but I’m not, so I have to write about why.

It is so damn hot in this empty third floor apartment. The movers came today and took all the big stuff, now there is only scattered junk. Things I was too weak and too tired to pack. Things that will go into boxes for Sam and I to move later, over the next few days...weeks, probably.

I’m so lonely. I touch my belly. My baby. I saw him (her?) for the first time today at the hospital. The doctor took blessedly cool goo and squirted it on my belly. She ran a small thing that looked like a price scanner over me, and then turned the screen towards me.

A small, peanut shaped thing, floating in a bubble. “That’s my baby?” She turned the sound on and I heard my baby’s heart beating. I started to cry. I wanted my husband to be there. I wanted him to see our baby. I don’t want him to be hooked up to tubes in a hospital room that will always be too far away, no matter how close to his doctors we live.

I haven’t been able to sleep beside my husband for two weeks.

I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in two weeks.

I miss college, where my best friends were in the same building. I could wander to their room on a hot night in my underpants and know that they would make room for me, and let me cry or talk or be silent. Now they live in other cities, states and time zones. They have jobs to get up for tomorrow morning, and anyway, calling would only do so much. I need someone’s arms.

Tonight I am a single mother in a hot apartment with no furniture. I need someone to lie down next to me and let me sob for a few hours, until I get over this gaping loneliness. The only friend I have in the area buttresses, he does not hold.

Tomorrow I will drive to our new house. Maybe unpack a few things. Wander around, figure out where things will go in this big new space. We need everything to find its place, so that when this little peanut gets here there will be room for all of his (her?) things. I’m probably going to just lie on our mattress for a while, though. I’m going to be caught between two cities for a while. I hate that feeling. I hate being so alone and so tired and with so much still to do.

I’m not alone. My baby is here. Does he know I’m his mother?

Does he know I’m scared and lonely? Why am I so sure that he’s a boy?

It’s summer and it’s so damn hot in this third floor apartment. When I was little I used to have to go to bed while it was still light out this time of year. When I was little I would have to take cool baths to get all the dirt and sweat and summer off me before going to sleep, cool and dry and safe with my parents down the hall.

Now I’m hot and damp and so lonely, even though my baby is here.

I wish I was asleep right now.

Frustrating Things

Husband and I are finally fully moved in to the new place. Sadly, we had no internet access the last few weeks at the old place, and none at the new place until an hour ago. I could have gotten access at work, but I haven't been to work in a month, because of severe morning sickness. Most days I couldn't even get out of bed. My husband has spent the better part of the last month in the hospital, which helped matters none.

So that's where I have been. If anyone is still around.

Something I wrote while moving will go up soon.