Mark your calendars! I suppose I should pack a bag now. Also, now taking applications for post-partum support.

Little by little over the past 2 weeks, my blood pressure has been gradually rising. While my health is in decline, the baby seems to be doing just fine. However, I'm told that it's only a matter of time until Jackson begins to be impacted by the problems I'm experiencing.

Based on my current status, my OB would like to perform an amniocentesis next Wednesday morning to check for lung maturity. If the lungs are ready to breathe, we will start the induction process on Wednesday evening and Jack will make his grand debut next Thursday, September 28th. Hold on. I want to check what sign that would make him. Ooh, he'd be a Libra. Libras are nice. Hubby is a Virgo/Libra cusp baby. Anyways, back to the situation at hand.

So, next Thursday I would have my baby. WHOA. That seems so close...and yet so far away! And as I check the calendar, a wave of nausea washes over me. Next Thursday is 9/28. That was my wedding anniversary to my ex husband. EW! It was bad enough how it just so happened to work out that Tim and I got married last year on Dave's birthday. But have our first child on our wedding anniversary? That would be...WEIRD. Dave and I get along great now. I guess we had to get divorced in order to be friends again. I just hung up the phone with him and he laughed hysterically at my conundrum. Thanks a LOT, Pal!

I've been in denial over my impending delivery and I've been a bad girl and haven't packed my bag for the hospital yet. I think this is something I should get done today though. I wish someone could tell me exactly what was going to happen and exactly how it is going to feel and exactly how long it is going to take. I'm not afraid of giving birth, I'm not even afraid of the pain. I'm just afraid of the unknown.

One of the unknowns I am most afraid of is Post Partum Depression. I'm fairly certain that my mother suffered from this with me (why else would you abandon your newborn infant and run away from home?) and with my own personal history of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Depression, I feel like I'm a sitting duck. I know the medical physiology of PPD. I know how the fluctuation in hormones can hit you like a ton of bricks and land your heart on its ass. I'm scared to death of this.

I've discussed this with my doctor, and she is going to start me on a prophylactic dose of progesterone after delivery in an attempt to keep my hormone levels even-keeled so I don't go over the deep end. So at least I feel like I'm doing something to address my own worst fear. At the same time, if any of my beloved friends/blog readers would like to volunteer to be my lifeline should I need one, I will gladly accept the volunteered help. I feel like since there's very little I can do to truly prevent PPD from happening to me, the best plan I can have in place involves preparing my body with the progesterone and my mind with a support system in place. It's really hard to be prepared for something you can't prepare for.

If I focus on it too much, I feel like a hamster running in a wheel. I keep running and running and running in my mind but I get nowhere with all my running. It's really very frustrating! I want to run away from it. Away from my genetic predisposition, away from my personal predisposition, away from the inherent risks just from giving birth. I want to hide from it, maybe under my bed or something. I want a gigantic bubble around me, like in the movie Bubble Boy, that will insulate me from anything bad that can or might happen. But I know I can't run or hide or insulate myself from the possibility. And so I reach out to you, dear friends, and ask you if you can be there for me if I need it.

Because frankly, I'm just so afraid. Knowing I can't control it makes me even more afraid. The juxtaposition of my emotions over Jackson's impending birth absolutely torments me. I am so excited to meet him. I feel like I know him so well after loving and nurturing and carrying him for so long. At the same time, I know I don't know him at all. He is an individual with his own thoughts and feelings and likes and desires. I've never loved anyone as much as I love him. There's a certain vulnerability involved when you let yourself truly love someone. If you don't give your heart to them, they can never hurt you. I adore this little person so much, I can't help it. But by loving him, I give him the ability to break my heart and that scares me. And of course, I dread coming to the realization that I am suffering from post partum depression, if that happens. I know I will completely feel like an utter failure if it occurs. To think that all my life - 31 years of hopes and dreams of a family of my own - culminated in me not being able to handle it will crush my spirit.

My excitement to meet Jackson is evenly tempered by all these apprehensions rattling around in my brain. It's ugly to think about. I think I'll go pack my bag now.

P.S. I'm laughing right now, because I just spell checked this entry and spell check suggests "party" instead of "partum" in my post. Post Party Depression. Oh, how I wish it were something as uncomplicated as that.