This has been quite a summer. Here’s what’s been going on:
- I finished up spring semester with a B in second semester calculus and an A in Intro to Computer Science.
- I lost a great-aunt who was dear to me.
- My mother and stepfather decided to create a great deal of stress in my life by raising a fuss when we decided to convert our guest room into a nursery just before our daughter was born.
- I gave birth to our second child.
- I’ve been dealing with the fact that my husband has been out of work for more than a year.
- My husband’s grandfather, a wonderful, funny man, died at 97 – not a shock, but still sad.
- I got my tubes tied.
I’ve really been depressed. Believe it or not, these things are just the tip of the iceberg. The past three or four years have been incredibly stressful – some good stresses, but many bad ones, and just an incredible amount of stress in general. I’m so tired. I’m a strong person, but I really believe that I’ve reached the outer boundaries of what I can bear. I’m getting help now, but I need to just let this out.
Right now, the thing I’m having difficulty with is having my tubes tied. My husband and I had decided that two children was a great number – perfect in fact. I was an only child and always regretted that and he was one of two boys, and quite happy with that. I agreed that one of us should do something “permanent” to avoid surprises in the future. Ok – now that is important: I agreed that this was a good idea, that this was something that we needed to do, and so on. Once the appointment approached, however, I started getting depressed over the permanence of it all. And I continue to feel that way. Really, I am happy with the two children that I have; I do not want to have any more children.
I believe that the problem I’m having is the fact that a part of my life is over. I’m sterile. I will never give birth again. This little one is the last one I shall nurse, cradle, rock…I know it isn’t rational. I know that this is purely an emotional response. To me, I suppose, this is like a milestone, as much as turning 30 or 35 (or possibly more than those). I’ll get over this; it will pass and I’ll stop worrying about it, but I’m sad in the mean time.