Day #1

I was finally able to recieve my medication for my post-partum depression from my doctor. I had a little trouble getting it last month because of insurance, but thankfully I got it figured out.

I took my first pill last night, suggested by my doctor and the pharmacist because I am one of those wonderful people that get sick when I take medication. I took it two hours before I went to bed, and I could already feel the affects they warned me about. Dizziness and nausea were felt a little bit the first hour, and then by the second hour it was like I was on a buzz, like I had just drank a full cup of strong wine. It wasn’t a terrible feeling, just really strange.

Besides the side effects, I could feel calmer, but it was a kind of calm I’m not used too. When I’m normally calm, I’m still thinking about the things I need to do. But last night, I sat on the couch and realized that everything was quiet.

I’m not going to lie, it was freaky. I don’t remember a time that my mind wasn’t running in all directions. I told my best friend that it was strange, and I honestly didn’t know if I liked it or not. She told me I’ll get used to it, as she has been on this type of medication before.

To say the least, I don’t like the way I felt last night, although this morning has been much better. I slept off the nausea and dizziness, and now my mind is finally working. It’s still quiet though, which makes me wonder if I will ever get my mind back. I’m afraid this will affect how I work, my writing, and keeping up with my children. We will see.

Parenting, Uncategorized



I am 2 days away from my due date, and even though I was hoping she would come early, it seems she is keeping herself occupied in my uterus by cramming herself against everything she possibly can. Besides being uncomfortable in every position known to man (both while awake and sleeping), these braxton hicks are killing me. As long as I am moving during the day, they aren’t so bad. It’s when I toss around at night and wake up to pee for the third time that its unbearable. Don’t get me started on ¬†what it feels like rolling out of bed in the morning. Within these last few weeks, it’s been harder and harder running after my energizer bunny for a toddler, and especially harder trying to keep up with the housework. Bless my husband and his wonderful heart, but he has no initiative to help after coming home from work. Don’t get me wrong, he does a few things that have helped out, like taking over for dinner and doing the dishes (I still have yet to get him to put away the laundry for me), but what he does do helps, even if it’s only a little. Point being, I am ready to have this baby, and I’m ready to have it now.

Now, to the point of the title of my post, nerves. Mine are on edge, and I know my husbands are. I thought that after already having a baby I would get used to the idea of being a parent to another child. But then I realized that with every child comes different worries. With my first child, I worried whether or not I was going to fail as a parent. With this one, I’m worried about how my son will take to her, and how I plan on getting a schedule down for both of them.

Fingers crossed that she comes soon.


What is wrong with the world?

Lately, social media has been taking it’s tole on my emotions. Being an empath (I will go into detail later on in my blog posts about being an empath) makes it that much harder to deal with. From animal abuse posts, to the stories of child neglect, I don’t know which is worse. And every story that I read, it keeps getting worse and worse. People killing animals for fun. Parents abusing their children to death. Pictures of starving puppies, dead cats, and dying children with bruises all over their bodies. Nannies, babysitters and teachers abusing their rights as caretakers of our children. The stories are everywhere and it makes me wonder how much of this is recent, or how much of this has just been covered up to make the world seem nicer than it really is.

The stories about the children truly terrify me, especially the ones about children being abused emotionally and physically by people that we are made to trust. Teachers, babysitters, and nannies, all finding ways to harm our children right under our noses. And then I see the stories about family members abusing children and I get completely sick to my stomach. Now, I know that not every family is full of sickos and weirdos that prey on the children in their families, but it really makes me wonder who we can trust with our kids. How can we expect our kids to be safe, and our sanity to stay intact when so many people are taking advantage of our trust? How can we expect our kids to get a good education when teachers are abusing their rights as teachers and bullying kids, sometimes worse then the students bullying each other themselves?

I know that these worries come with being a parent. Maybe my hormones have been getting me worried a little bit extra lately since I am only a week away from giving birth. Maybe I am worrying a little more than I should, but who can stand to hear these terrible stories and not worry about their children being involved in situations like these? I can’t even answer the simple question ‘what would you do?’. Because so many things run through my head. First, it’s killing the mother fucker who abuses my child. Then my mind runs to calling the authorities, and then I wonder how much they will be able to do. (In the town that I live in, justice isn’t always served fairly, especially when it involves the education system. That’s small towns and connections for you.)

Enough with my rambling on terrible things. Mommy out-