When the Clouds Part.....

My body is in training to survive on less sleep. It's Saturday morning, and Sean and Boodge are still sleeping, cuddled together blissfully in Boodge's bed after a week of business-trip separation. Me? I woke up at 6 when Boodge cried out, maybe having a nightmare, and couldn't get back to sleep. The night before last, I was up from 2:30 to 5:30 am with Boodge, who for some reason just couldn't get back to sleep after waking in the night. He wanted too, that was clear, and he was really trying, but he tossed and turned and headbutted and asked for this and that. I was so looking forward to Sean coming home and taking back the nighttime duty so I could sleep.

But the funny thing is I feel fine. Happy even. I'm here in my quiet morning, my man is home, my toddler is curled up happy with his daddy, and my family feels bliss. It's amazing what a difference hormones can make in a week. This pregnancy is giving me a whole new perspective on the chemical bases for depression. One week, I'm irritable and everything seems dark, and sleeplessness makes me rabid. The next, it's all wonderful and manageable again. The body truly is a finely tuned mix. I'm glad for this experience, which will certainly help me empathize when I go back to counselling work.

Not that I believe depression is all chemical and should be medicated all the time. I tend to be averse to medication in general, and I still believe that depression usually originates in something that is going on, or has gone on, in a person's life. Pregnancy, even a planned and wanted one, can certainly be cause for dark emotions. Change is scary, and often comes with fear. When we get stuck in the fear, and resist the change, that's when depression can happen. Especially as the resistance continues, and with it the regret that seeps in as we continue to be unhappy with the current situation, but feel helpless to make it different. What you resist persists. And I suppose as the situation persist, body chemistry adjusts to the new normal and keeps the depression going.

When I feel depression coming on, I try to open my door to it, because I have learned the longer I fight it, the longer it lasts. Only when I accept that this is where I am can I begin to crawl out of it. I love this poem by Rumi, "The Guest House".

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I try to live that way, though sometimes it's harder than others. So though I try to keep this blog positive, when one of those rude guests arrives, I'll try to write about it too, and search for the lesson that it is bringing.

But for now, I'm going to join my family in bliss. Boodge woke up and I crawled into his bed with him and his dad. "I want to cuddle!" he proclaimed, and snuggled in between his parents, smiling joyfully. We all hugged and kissed and told each other how happy we were to be together. Then we got out of bed and Sean put on his new CD and he and Boo rocked in the kitchen. Boodge gave Sean his birthday present, this beautiful picture.


Sean gave Boo the ball he got him at the airport. Boo said he wanted to get naked, and once he was he lay down in the sunbeam, content as a sleepy kitty cat.

I am truly one of the luckiest women in the world, and I can't wait to meet the newest love in my life, my latest blessing, my baby Peanut.