I’m battling severe depression. I’ve fought it in the past, but this time, it got really bad. I started feeling depressed in January, but after my third early miscarriage in March, I was suddenly off fertility meds after taking a lot of them in the last 3 out of 4 months. My hormone levels were going nuts. Couple that with grief of another miscarriage, stress of treatments and life, and not dealing with the stress and grief from the previous 2 years, I became severely, extremely depressed and was hospitalized in April for that and the hormone flux. (I won’t go into details about the hospital stay.) Since the end of April, I’ve been seeing a therapist so that I can work through my issues and work on my depression. I am feeling better, but I have a ways to go.
I bring this up because I need to talk about my depression and some of the things that make it so pronounced. Some of the thoughts I will post were discovered while talking to my therapist. My hope is that if I talk about it, I can help myself and other women who may feel like no one understands or is going through the same problem. I’ll do different posts about these issues so I don’t get overwhelmed. There are a lot. It’s like all the dominoes fell on top of me, and now, I’m working to get them off and lay them in a flat, straight line. (Therapy!)
Grieving the Early Miscarriages
Every morning, I wake up and see three dots. They don’t do anything, but I see them as poppy seeds that I cannot hold or grasp. I wish I could touch them, but there is no way. I see these poppy seeds throughout my day, when I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, and sometimes in my dreams. My poppy seeds are a part of my world, even though no one else can see them. No matter what my three dots, my three poppy seeds, are always there.
With each early miscarriage, my baby was the size of a poppy seed. I know that some people may say that the pregnancy was too early so they’re too small to count. However, each one was real to me. They are my three dots. My three what-ifs.
I haven’t dealt with any of this. It’s only been two and a half months since the last one.My therapist pointed that out in my most recent session. This realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Two and a half months… It seems like more time than that.
I have not allowed myself to grieve any of these losses. I’m trying to grieve them now because each one was a path that I was not able to go down. This has been hard for me to grasp. My therapist suggested that I do some art around the poppy flower and gave me little poppy flower drawings to color and write notes on. (Seeds are too small.) I did that before I started typing this post. I’ve been struggling for weeks to write a post about depression and felt good enough to do so after coloring and writing on those little flowers. Little steps with poppy flowers.
I looked up symbolism surrounding poppy flowers. They can represent memory, loss, and peace. It make sense to focus on these flowers.
I think that is all for now. I hope this post helps some of you. It may just be a jumble of words or stream of consciousness, but I know I feel a little better.
Feel free to comment or reach out on Twitter. (@SarahPCOS)
Until then, keep drinking the water.