Surviving the Death of Me

If we can just survive the first five months of this pregnancy our lives will get better.

That’s what I told my thirteen year old that was taking care of our entire family because we didn’t have any other help.

Just a few more months and we’ll be fine.

The first five months are always the worst.  The first five months are when I’m either throwing up or I want to be throwing up.  They are when I’m so sick that I lie in bed and fantasize about dying and I wonder why I am bringing another child into a world with so much suffering.

After the first five months I’m still sick but at least I can get out of bed and wash my hair.  Life always looks better with clean hair.

I can’t believe I did that six times.

This time would be like all the rest.  I would be sick for a few months and then I would slowly start feeling better and we would go back to our regular lives with a new sweet baby tagging along.

The only problem was I wasn’t slowly getting better.  I was slowly getting worse.  Not only was I physically ill but I was seriously depressed.  I remember hearing little people coming into my room and going out again saying, “She’s crying again.”

I was always crying.

I had a lot of things to be crying about but when you stack depression on top of life’s problems they aren’t bumps in the road anymore.  They become precipices.

I have written exactly eighty blog posts and I’ve published exactly forty of them.  I write so many things that no one ever reads and I want to write so much more.

I don’t know when I wrote this and I probably had no intention of ever posting it but it’s late and I want to post something, so here you go.  Maybe I had a point.  Maybe I’ll finish it someday.

Probably not.


2 thoughts on “Surviving the Death of Me

  1. Kris

    I’ve never been so depressed as I was when I was pregnant. And I’ll never know – was it just the pregnancy making me depressed? Or was it because we lived in a new state and I was so lonely? Or was it because I was so sick and didn’t think I’d ever get better? Pregnancy is the hardest thing I have survived. I used to pray I would miscarry and I was tempted more than once to stop by Planned Parenthood because I didn’t understand then, necessarily, what abortion meant.

    I was really, really relieved when the doctors told me I had a 75% chance of dying if I got pregnant again. Like on the inside I know I can beat those odds, pfft, whatever. But I had a medical excuse to never have to suffer like I did for those 7 months ever again. This all probably makes me a bad person, but I don’t care that much. I may have beaten the physical odds of surviving another pregnancy, but I’d have killed myself from the depression and the sickness so… yeah.

  2. karenjonesgowen

    I’ve heard pregnancy related depression is the absolute worse and from reading this post and the above comment, my heart just goes out to the women who suffer from it. Wishing you all the best, Lara. I don’t know if this post refers to a previous pregnancy or a new one but either way, it’s completely relatable, even to me who has been away from pregnancy for many years. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.


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