I was planning on posting this earlier in the week but life happens. However, I'm nowhere to continue on with the long ramblings of my experiences.
I grew up on the other side of Canada and roughly 11 years ago I moved out here to Alberta. By the time I moved out here I was on anti-depressants and doing amazing. I was going out, meeting people, having fun it was great. Around this time I met my boyfriend and future baby daddy S. It started off slowly and then we hit the 6-month mark and BAM I found out I was pregnant. It was at this time my insecurities and fears popped up and I made a tough decision to have my baby boy and raise him with S. It was one of the scariest things I decided to do. S and I decided that we wanted to raise our baby in a small town around family and since I had, by that time, cut most ties to my family we decided to move closer to S's family. I was tough for me to go from a family that barely talked to each other to being surrounded by people that not only liked each other but loved each other and wanted to be involved in each other's lives. I was constantly looking for the loophole, the 'real reason' people were helping. I grew up in a very unstable home filled with emotional neglect, addiction, fighting, etc. It was a really toxic environment and like anyone else brought up in that environment I had major trust issues to name one. Looking back now I was scared and confused and my depression had darkened the doorway of my mind again I just didn't want to admit it.
By the time I had my second son I was in a much better place and I had gotten back into shape and eating healthy right after Ollie was born. He was probably my easiest pregnancy, delivery and 4th trimester.
That brings me to Rhys, the baby. I was in labour for 24 hours before it was decided an emergency c-section was needed. We had almost lost him (I talk more about it in my post 'big reaction for such a small thing'). I was 100% convinced that Rhys didn't make it which was a total mind f**k when I was out of that haze from the surgery and it really played with my mind during his first year. I spend most of my days just laying on the couch not letting him go, afraid I might lose him if I do. It leads to the hardest deepest depression I had experienced and it took FOREVER to climb out of. Just now as I sit here typing this I'm finally just climbing out of the hole I had made for myself over the last 2 years.
Right now I'm on Zoloft and Abilify and I'm finally feeling more and more like me as the days go on. I'm working on going to the gym more and eating healthier.
Every day is a fight but its one I am determined to win and I will never give up.
Until next time