The Art/Body Connection

Well, my due date is tomorrow and . . . no baby! I have never been THIS pregnant. All my other kids were born early.

With my previous pregnancies the last month was the hardest. The depression usually set in around 35 weeks and it was a slow slide into Unhappy Land. Not so this time. This last month has actually been fun. A little crazy, but fun. Maybe it's because I was so busy during the rest of the pregnancy that these last few weeks have been my only chance to really think about this new little person that's been gestating inside me.

To be honest, though, last Monday was a terrible day. I didn't sleep well. I woke up exhausted. I had no patience with my children and no motivation to do anything but lay on the couch. My children watched movies for the bulk of the day and I stared at the wall. I was beginning to wonder if it wasn't time to break out my antidepressants.

But things turned around for me Tuesday. I think that's because, well, Monday was a bad day and people have those occasionally without actually being depressed. I forget that sometimes. Also, I think Tuesday was a better day because I had something to look forward to--and it's something I would heartily recommend to other mommies nearing the end of pregnancy--Belly Painting!

A friend of mine, Julia Cameron Damon, is multi-faceted, multi-talented woman who specializes in the art of body painting and photography. I've seen a lot of her portfolio and have found her work at turns whimsical, confrontational, enchanting, and instructive. So when she approached me about painting my extremely pregnant belly I wasn't sure what to say, but I decided this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I might as well experience it.

It was so fun! I was surprised by how relaxing it was and how much I enjoyed the process. I'm the kind of gal who likes to invest meaning in things so Cam and I approached things from an Earth Mother/all creations point to the Great Creator vibe. Because one thing I love about pregnancy is the connection it creates between me as a creative being and Heavenly Father as a creative being. As Elder Uchtdorf said, "But to what end were we created? We were created with the express purpose and potential of experiencing a fulness of joy. Our birthright—and the purpose of our great voyage on this earth—is to seek and experience eternal happiness. One of the ways we find this is by creating things. If you are a mother, you participate with God in His work of creation—not only by providing physical bodies for your children but also by teaching and nurturing them."

Cam did a beautiful job by starting with earth tones and layering in some beautiful jeweled branches to reflect the eternal growth that my new baby's mortality is a part of.



The truly surprising thing, though, about all this was how after awhile the meaning became secondary to the product. The meaning behind it all was beautiful for me, but after staring at my resplendent belly in the mirror and seeing the photos I couldn't get over how pretty it all was. That I was pretty. That even in my incredibly bulbous and swollen state, I was doing something beautiful. Those feelings pointed me back to the mystery that is pregnancy and birth and filled me with positive emotions. The paint served to accent the beauty of human life and our connections to the eternities. It's like, God made magnolia trees and kingfishers and mountains and clouds because they are beautiful. And for a little while, I felt like I had tapped that feeling of beauty and made it part of my own body. It was a mystical experience that still has me smiling.

All images in this post are copyrighted and are not to be used without the express permission of Julia Cameron Damon

Not So Happy Holidays

I hate to be a downer, but, well, I am depressed so it's to be expected.

The holidays have not been so happy thus far. I've been trying really hard to take all the awesome advice you guys gave me following my post Thanksgiving crash. Most of the stuff you guys mentioned (like waiting to put up the tree and making my DH do all the clean-up) will have to wait until next year to be implemented, but the big thing I've held onto is this: Do less stuff.

My mood cycles have been getting deeper and faster; I feel like my good days are fewer and farther between and my bad days are much, much more intense. I forgot how consuming and exhausting it actually is to be depressed. The other night I found myself crying helplessly while reading my kids their bedtime stories. My voice was fine, but my mind was lost and tears were rolling down my cheeks. It was so strange and awful and, um, depressing.

So it was a good thing I scaled back about a week ago. And I mean seriously scaled back. In the name of doing less I bailed on planning my first grader's "Holiday Fiesta", the ward choir, a Sunday School lesson, visiting teaching, and two family gift exchanges (I really am sorry guys!!), I gave up working on my calling, and we decided to draw names as a family to cut down on all the shopping. When I had finished the last email and the final phone call to let people know I was opting out I sobbed with relief. (Note to self: most people were very understanding and polite. They won't hate you if you back out of something!) With all that stuff out of my brain I remembered how to get dressed, how to feed my family, and how to start cleaning my house. I know it sounds stupid, but when I am on a downturn even the simplest tasks are like trying to solve a Rubik's cube. Adding all the craziness of the holidays is like trying to work that *%^$# cube with my toes.

I did hold on to a few things, though. They were things that I felt like embodied the spirit of Christmas best. We still picked names off the angel tree and shopped for families in need. We still sent out Christmas cards because family connections are too important to let go of (I only sent out 20 and it still took two hours to get everything packaged and sent). We still made treats to share with the neighbors--although I did make a lot fewer than usual; we gave out 6 half loaves of pumpkin bread--because (besides Halloween) it is the only time of year we talk to them. And I think I'm taking my kids caroling next week. Those things feel good when I do them and they have a long term purpose behind them so they're keepers.

There are still some ways I need to scale back for next year. The ward Christmas party is up in the air for me. I don't do well with lots of noise and big crowds. And it always makes my kids stay up too late. The same goes for the Relief Society party. There's just so much pressure with that kind of stuff when I'm feeling low. It doesn't lift my spirit. It just reminds me of how far down I've gone. Hmmm. . . any ideas for a small group party that was more service-instead-socializing-oriented that can be implemented on a ward level? (I do better with a task. Just sitting and talking with people I barely know is soooo hard.)

Anyway, if you all are feeling the pain this holiday I hope you know you're not alone and it's not wrong. It's just the way we depressives react to stress and it's okay. I came across this video by Therese Bochard at Beyond Blue that was really meaningful to me. She has some good idea about how to take care of yourself during the holidays (SEE--sleep, eat right, and exercise!), but mostly it's just good to know that other people have been there and are making it work.

Oh, and yeah, I do have an appointment to see the psychiatrist. The supplements just don't cut it and I don't like teetering on the brink. I mean, the other day I was actually thinking getting hospitalized might be a nice break. That's not a good sign. Especially not when there's a little person trying to grow and thrive inside me.

*sigh* 'Tis the season.

Ch-ch-ch-changes! It's time to Mom Up

So. . . I'm pregnant.

I've been meaning to tell you for awhile, but I keep freaking out. I guess the miscarriage in June made me a little superstitious. I had just told a few friends and then--whammo--spotting, bleeding, sadness, etc. So every time I went to write this post I got nervous and decided to just wait. I told a few people because they asked me point blank or because I felt like I had to explain some bizarre behavior (like suddenly deciding to put my house on the market or getting too woozy and needing to hang out for an hour instead of just picking up my kid from the play date and leaving), but mostly I've just been obsessing about it when I'm on the phone with my sister. And when I can get my husband to sit still and let me whine about my morning sickness.

I'm only 9 weeks along. (Read: My chance for a miscarriage is still around 40%!) I haven't seen my doctor yet. (Read: have not actually confirmed existence of baby. Could be a blighted ovum. Or a chemical pregnancy. Or an, ahem, hysterical pregnancy--isn't that right up my alley!) I'm sick and tired. (Read: those are good signs that this is a viable pregnancy, but they don't really induce me to blog.)

I'm owning up to it now since I hear I was outted at a ward party and because well, this random telling-people-sometimes-thing isn't working for me anymore. This pregnancy has raised a lot of issues for me and I find myself wanting to blog about it but being too afraid of what that would mean. So it's time I man up, or mom up, as the case may be.

I've met with my psychiatrist and per my pregnancy plan, it was time to wean off my medicine. Since I was on the smallest dose available that meant stop taking it. As near as I can tell I haven't suffered any real physical symptoms. Everyone on the internet who takes Cymbalta and then quits complains of "brain zaps." Haven't had any of those. My sweatiness has actually decreased since I quit the medicine and I appreciate that.

As for mood symptoms, well, the jury is still out. Don't get me wrong. I've been moody. Actually, MOODY is probably more appropriate, but there's no real way of knowing if it's the pregnancy or the lack of SNRI or the horrible weather we've been having or what. I feel like my intrusive thoughts are back. . . and that's been a little bothersome. They're mostly pretty quiet, though. Surprising but quiet. Prayer--and music, any music with words--has been helping a lot with those. I've been having trouble sleeping, too. Falling asleep is the hardest thing. My brain just goes nuts when I lay down, spinning out all sorts of disaster scenarios. But I'm working on a mantra to calm it down. I'm kind of scared for what the next eight-ish months hold. Perinatal (and postpartum) depression really is a crapshoot. A lot of the time it feels like there's now way to win. Not taking my medicine is supposedly better for the tummy baby, but not if I'm crazy. But if I'm not really crazy, then being on the medicine is a pretty big gamble.

I've been taking my prenatals and some supplemental fish oil and vitamin B because those two have helped a lot of other depressed people going off their meds. But the vitamin B turns my urine electric lemon yellow (you wanted to know that, right?) and since it's water soluble the recommended dose for depressed people is really high--which doesn't seem safe since there's a bun in the oven. The fish oil is fine going down, but every now and again it gives me fish burps, which don't help with the nausea. And the recommended dose for depressed folk is again very high--which is absolutely NOT SAFE when pregnant because of fish oil's anticoagulant properties. I need to talk with my OB about it, but I don't see her until the end of the month.

So basically I'm a slightly fatter, very moody version of myself who is going sometimes-crazy trying to get her house ready to sell--while mentally crossing my fingers for good luck this time around. I hate being on the wrong end of statistics!

Anyway, I hope you all are in just as exciting places in your lives :) Let's make a deal: I'll keep my fingers crossed for you and you keep my fingers crossed for me and then we can all relax. . . After all, it's time to mom up and do this.