taken in Saskatoon, July 2010
I saw it coming. I had nightmares warning me about it. I just didn’t know if or when it would actually happen.
That rock bottom.
This year has been such an emotional roller coaster that I guess it makes sense for it to end at the bottom. The last couple weeks have been the hardest, with each week getting progressively worse, slowly pushing me toward the edge. Tuesday I was pushed off. Violently.
I won’t get into all the details of what got me there, because they’re really not share-on-the-internet material. (I may have filled up someone’s inbox with texts though.) I truly believe that there is a direct correlation between being mentally/emotionally unwell and being physically unwell and neither are very pleasant. I had to leave work at noon, spent the rest of the day in bed not sleeping when I wasn’t in the washroom, spent the night wide awake not sleeping when I wasn’t in the washroom, and finally found an hour of sleep at about 5:30am.
I wasn’t in any shape to go in to work Wednesday morning and thankfully, I have a (well, three) job(s) at which I can make up hours so I don’t miss any income, because we really can’t afford to do that.
Lynn Canyon, Vancouver, BC
The bright spot throughout the day, the thing that kept me going, was my little Three’s incessant movements. He was moving around so much more than normal. He didn’t stop all day or all night. It’s like he was dancing around saying, “It’s okay, Mama, I’m alright, see? You can take me off your list of things to worry about!” It was like he wanted me to know that I wasn’t alone. It’s amazing how much love I find myself having for someone I haven’t even met; someone I only saw briefly on an ultrasound screen.
I have to say, though, that I found myself googling “is there such a thing as too much fetal movement?” at about 3am.
I came out of my room briefly on Tuesday evening to put together some dinner for the girls and Liliana came to me, looked me straight in the eye, and asked three times in a row if I was alright. I hate that she worries about me at only three years old. She gave me a big hug I told her I was fine, I just needed some rest. (Kaylie was too enthralled with the Monopoly app that Noah downloaded for his iPod to notice that I wasn’t around – and for that I was thankful.)
I have some work to do to get out of this mess. I need to do some letting go, some forgiving of others and myself (the latter being much harder), some breaking down of walls, some working out in the mood gym, some something. There’s nowhere to go but up now, right?
Maybe I’ll finally start preparing for Three’s arrival, as he will be here in three and a half months and we haven’t done anything yet. I have a hard time accepting some things as reality, okay?
And maybe I’ll have a shower. I know my family would appreciate that.