Good days

Today is a very good day. I think it has something to do with the fact that the baby has actually been sleeping for more than 10 minutes at a time today – and its feet aren’t lodged in my diaphragm – so I can breathe.

I CAN BREATHE!

I also think it has something to do with the fact that I had a maternity massage this morning. I love my maternity massages, I get one every month – it’s like Heaven. I get to lie on my belly. HA! They have this special pillow – called the Prego Pillow, and it has all the right padding so I can lie on my stomach, for an hour.

And I CAN BREATHE! And I got to LAY ON MY STOMACH for an HOUR! Well, not the whole hour – but most of it. There is a God.

I’m having such a good day, in fact, that I’m treating myself to a diet Pepsi in the middle of the freakin day. I’m not afraid of caffeine, I just don’t drink pop, at all – unless we’re out and they have dr. pepper at the restaurant. But today; Today is a good day – and I’m drinking pop in the afternoon!

I think most of all though, what I can credit this awesomeness in my attitude to is the fact that I went on an anti depressant about a month ago and we’re finally seeing the constant effect of the medicine. I got to the point of no return. Waking up was torture on a daily basis for me. And trying to get to sleep was anxiety ridden with fear and horror about what was to come tomorrow.

I do know from my past that we took action before it got too bad – being proactive rather than reactive is the smartest way to be when you’re dealing with depression or anxiety.

So here I am, feeling awesome and having a GREAT day. And I definitely owe to my awesome doctors, supportive husband and friends, and to having pop in the afternoon.

Spike

I’ve decided to name my pregnancy schizophrenic tendency hormones Spike. Because one moment I’ll be docile and calm, thinking about holding a baby and yeah!, how fun that is – and then a squirrel will run through my backyard and I’ll start thinking about how annoying that is that a squirrel just ran through my serene picture.

Which tail spins into a dozen other things, like how stupid squirrels are … and it goes down from there. It can lead back to calm moments where I’m laughing at myself for the obvious tantrum my mind just played on me … or it can get as bad as calling Aaron balling because I don’t know if I can do this anymore, a damn squirrel is in our backyard and didn’t you know they’re stupid!?

Aaron’s a very busy man – yet he takes my calls, most of the time, and even when I’m ranting about rodents, where ever they reside or I’m crying because my feet are swollen or I just saw a pampers commercial and the baby was smiling – which is cause for uncontrollable tears … he listens to me. He comforts me, he comes home to a wailing pregnant wife and he still tells me how much he loves me and how beautiful I am. And he always makes me feel better.

He calms the Spike inside of me. He lets me cry about the dust bunnies under the coffee table – he lets me laugh about my bodily functions. He rubs my cramped feet and gets me milkshakes at midnight.

He is an example to all husbands out there who have or will have a wife or pregnant wife – it’s men of Aaron’s caliber that make the world go round some days and I’m desperately lucky to call one my own.

He’s going to be one awesome dad and his being a husband and friend gets better everyday. I cannot wait to discover new life with him.

Aaron, I love you.