Disconnected- Depression & Pregnancy

I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety on and off for most of my life. I’ve only recently realized how much mental illness impacted some of the best times of my life, and I hope that by putting this in writing I will be able to help someone get the help they need sooner than I did.

As you know from previous posts, I had some trouble conceiving. The moment we found out we were going to have a baby I was genuinely happy… But it quickly faded. I rarely felt like my miracle baby was growing inside of me… I was just pregnant, like pregnancy was just a 40 week stage of my life. I remember thinking it wasn’t real on a daily basis. There was no way I had gotten pregnant, there was no way a child that was created by my wonderful husband and I was growing inside of me… There was no way this was real.

I loved my baby dearly from the very moment I found out I was pregnant. Don’t get that wrong. I was, and will forever be grateful for the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. But I was disconnected. I wasn’t able to enjoy my pregnancy, even after my infertility struggle. I felt like it was all a dream and I was going to wake up any moment… I didn’t want to get too excited and jinx it or something I guess?

I spent 39 weeks and 3 days waiting to wake of from this pregnancy dream. I’m convinced that it would have been a completely different experience if I hadn’t been suffering from depression. I wish so badly that I had been able to feel connected with my little man while he grew within my womb. I didn’t talk to my Dr about the way I was feeling until P was 9 months old. I am taking an antidepressant now, and I honestly feel like a completely different person. I can feel now. Mental illness of any sort isn’t anything to be ashamed of. More people are suffering than you can imagine, please get help if you’re one of them. Don’t waste the greatest experiences in your life by being unable to enjoy them.

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Buttpaste and Bananas

We have reached the intense teething stage. I’m not sure who is hating it more, me or P?! In addition to the obvious pain of teeth trying to make their way through his precious little gums, he has diarrhea and a horrible diaper rash from it 😦 I’ve learned a few things to help the situation that I thought I might share, in case you find yourself in the same boat!

ABC Diet- Apples, bananas and crackers. The combination of these 3 things (according to P’s pedi) are said to combat diarrhea very effectively. We have used bananas and apples to fight diarrhea before, and it worked great! I’m hoping it will work even better now that he’s old enough for crackers.

Buttpaste- diaper rash paste with a high zinc oxide content. Thicker than Desitin and has a higher zinc oxide content than any other OTC rash cream I’ve found. Suppose to form a better barrier than Desitin and other creams of that nature, thus making it more effective at keeping “excrement” off of baby’s poor little red booty.

Saran Wrap- this is one I had never heard before until today! A nurse at the pedi’s office suggested putting saran wrap (or any plastic wrap for that matter) over the Buttpaste to keep the Buttpaste from absorbing into the diaper rather than staying on P’s booty. He currently has plastic wrap in his butt crack, so I will let ya know how that goes for us!

Feel free to share any awesome diarrhea and diaper rash tips and tricks in the comments!

The Chestnut Conspiracy

As a mommy, we have a very protective instinct when it comes to our little ones. My mom always told me she had eyes in the back of her head, and she knew everything. I thought she was crazy until recently but I’m quickly realizing she was being serious.

I would like to assume everyone knows chestnuts grow on trees. But for the sake of clarification, chestnuts grow on trees encased in a spiky ball of love. Once they fall from the tree, they come out of their spiky ball and the actual nut is free to be eaten.

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I was standing under a chestnut tree with my husband’s family having a nice little conversation, while wearing P. I heard leaves starting to rattle, and instinctively covered P’s head with my arm. Less than a second later a chesnut (encased in its spiky ball of love) slammed into my arm. It hurt. Badly. I screamed “F***!!!!!!!!!!” like the true lady that I am and everyone looked at me like I was crazy. After a minute or so it started to swell and bleed. The little spiky bastards from the “spiky ball of love” were stuck in my arm.
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I had to take antibiotics because the spikes were embedded and started to get infected after a couple of days. Nine days later, I just removed the 29th spike. The moral of the story: we will do anything to keep our babies safe, even if it means taking a chestnut to the arm. Either that, or I’m prone to freak accidents and have horrible luck?

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