I have to say, I enjoy my anonymity at the moment.  I can come here and post whatever I want and not worry about the prying eyes and plentiful opinions of people who know me.  The charm to this is that I can get through whatever I am going through without a mountainous load of opinions.  That’s why I started this blog.  I want to grab whatever peace and quiet I can so that I can figure out how to get better.

Yes.  Opinions are plentiful in my life.  I get lots of opinions and “how to” hints from my family and even hubb’s family (every once in awhile).  It’s not the opinions that bother me persay, it’s the judgment behind those opinions.  Because you know… someone somewhere thinks i’m fucking nuts or lazy or both.

I don’t think i’m screwed up.  Truth be told, I think I have a lot of things that go through my mind on a daily basis because I have nothing better to think about.  I’m just a depressed pregnant woman who is looking for some relief.  In any case, this is nothing that happy pills and consistency cannot solve.  Though don’t tell me to start “positive thinking”.  My mother in law told me this the other day and I looked at her like she was nuts.  This coming froma woman who was on depression meds about 5 years ago.

On good days, I can think positive (to a point…because something is always a little gray even on those days).  On bad days, forget it.  Positive thinking on a bad day is like a poor person wishing for a million dollars… it’s only something to think about but not something that will actually happen.

I like the fact that I have this “anonymous” blog.  It makes me feel a little less open to the public.  Sure, if someone (or a bunch of people) start reading this thing, then i’ll be open to public opinion.  Let’s face it though… if that would happen, I would still remain anonymous.

My dear hubb is having a hard time right now.  He is stressing out about his current job situation and really starting to put pressure on himself.  At least, for today.

His current job pays him *okay* but not for what he does.  He’s a computer guy who does a little bit of everything.  His boss still sees him as a sales guy, but he does so much more than that.  He fixes computer issues, maintains client communication, has working knowledge of computer networks, has working knowledge on a variety of different software, he is proficient on both the Mac and the PC.  In short, he is a sales manager, a service guy, a network engineer and all of the above.  He has been in the industry for 12+ years and has never stopped learning.

He is a huge asset to the company he works for, but unfortunately, the company does not like to pay out or reimburse him.  For instance, he goes on both sales and service calls and only gets a set mileage amount per month.  However, his phone expenses are also taken out of his mileage expense check.  He uses the phone primarily for business purposes.

His last raise was October of ‘06 and that was after 8 years of no raise or compensation.  The company offers medical benefits but because they are so small, we couldn’t afford to have the family included on as it would cost us half his paycheck just for medical insurance every month.  There’s no 401k plan to speak of.  No bonuses and basically nowhere to advance.

To say he feels *stuck* in his position is at this point an understatement.  Our state is in the worst financial situation ever and so jobs are hard to come by.  Even low-wage employment is hard to come by here.

He wants to quit his job on one hand because it offers very little in terms of the future and on the other hand, he has been with the company for 12+ years so the comfort level is the most enticing thing that keeps him there.  He is the “go to” guy.

The company made a mistake in stockholders awhile ago.  One of the owners was found to have been embezzling company profits for years and years.  As a result, it was hard to kick him to the curb as they had to not only pay him off for his investment (even though he stole from them), they also had to pay his attorney fees, which were atrocious.

The employees have been “paying” for that mistake ever since.  Now that the rotten boss is all paid up, the other stockholders want to continue to roll in the green without compensating the employees who have all worked so hard to keep the company afloat for years.  It’s a pretty crappy situation.

The sad part is, his boss knows that he is loyal to a fault and uses that to take advantage of his good nature.

It’s frustrating because hubb doesn’t feel like he is doing all that he can to keep us going financially.  He feels like he should be doing better.  I know that he is working his hardest.  There is nothing else out here where we live.

So, we’re considering a move out of state.  Both of us feel that this state is a sinking ship because all of the eggs have been placed in one shaky economic basket.

I feel so frustrated for him.  Especially because I know that he deserves something better.  Not that he is entitled to it by default, but just because he works so darn hard and is so darn talented and good at what he does.

Today I found out that because we sent our tax stuff via Turbo Tax and paid our Turbo Tax fee by utilizing some of our tax money, our stimulus check will come by snail mail.  This means that we will not get it until July some time.

As soon as I heard this I broke down in uncontrollable tears.  Why?  Well, the tax stimulus money was the last bit of money we needed before looking for a minivan.  I figured as soon as May rolled around we’d have it made in the shade.  I thought that finally, the kids and I could get out of the house instead of being trapped behind these walls.  Walls that are definitely closing in day by day.

After five minutes of boo-hooing, I got ahold of myself.  After all, I chose the life of a stay at home mom.  I was the one who wanted to be home with my children so that I could not only focus on them but also on school (I am in college full time as well… in case I forgot to mention).  This kind of thing means sacrificing any luxuries or last-minute purchases.  Not that the minivan would have been a last minute purchase, we have been saving for awhile now.

Still, what’s the difference in a couple of months?  I figure I need to focus on turning the backyard into happy fun land for the kids.  On Saturday we are going to go garage sale-ing.  I am hoping to find some fun outdoor toys!  *fingers crossed*

In any case, I figured five minutes of boo-hooing is better than five minutes of rage or worse…. a whole night of boo-hooing.

It’s strange…

some days, I feel okay… dare I say a little happy.  Other days, it’s as if someone has switched off the light inside my head and I travel back down the dark rabbit hole and await for the cobwebs to start eating my brain.

Today, isn’t one of those days.  I actually notice that the sun is shining and I smile.  My temper is kept in check with the kids.  Owbie pushed his sister off of the coffee table earlier today and instead of losing my cool, I calmly told him to go stand in the corner for a timeout and think about what he did.  4 minutes later, he came out of the corner and gave her a hug.  He then gave me one too.

I did not feel frustrated or annoyed.  For once, I just felt calm.

We had a good weekend, my family and I.  Hubb gave me some time to work on the term paper due for my philosophy class.   The kids were strangely on their best behavior.

Hubb asked me what I wanted for mother’s day.  My reply?  Just a nice day out with my family.  I thought it would be super fun to make a picnic lunch and take the kids to a great big park.  I would rather spend time with my family on that day.  I don’t need expensive gifts or an evening out…. just being with hubb and the kids is all I need.

I know that a lot of my mood swings and depression can be chalked up to the pregnancy.  I am afraid of the impending postpartum depression after the pregnancy, that’s for sure.  I will remind my doctor next week.  I don’t want to take the chance on being a total wreck after the birth.  My kids are too important to me.

I came to grips with the situation involving my dad.  It isn’t my responsibility to make him be a grandpa.  Nor is it my responsibility to take care of my brother.  My parents need to take care of their children and I need to take care of mine.  It is as simple as that.  It doesn’t make me a bad person because my father doesn’t want to give up watching Fox News for a weekend to see his grandkids.  It also doesn’t make me a bad person that my Marine brother wants to come home and I don’t have the funds to pay for it.  As much as I love my brother, the situation isn’t mine to handle.

The weight of the world does not have to end up on my shoulders.  Sometimes, I have a habit of taking responsibility for things that are not my responsibility.  It can be chalked up to the guilt-thing I was talking about in an earlier post.

Now, to remember that everything is not my responsibility or fault will be another uphill challenge.  Pregnancy amnesia has me forgetting a lot of things lately.

It’s raining here.  As surely as the rain drops are falling down the window panes, so do the tear drops on my face.  I am miserable.  I am having a rough week and I just want to crawl under the covers in my bed and sleep for the longest time.

I’m on the last leg of my pregnancy with roughly 8 weeks to go.  Week 30 has found me to be an emotional wreck.  I’m extremely short-tempered with the kids and it seems like I am yelling at them more frequently than normal.  The thing is, I love my children so much.  They are the rising and setting sun to me.  I really don’t like to yell at them yet it seems I pull that discipline tactic out of my hat more often than not.

Today, some of my tears were over the conversation I had with my mother yesterday.  Things were okay and then she laid a big guilt trip on me about my brother coming home from the Marines.  My oldest brother (Mikey) and I were going to try and put some money toward his ticket so that it would make it easier for him to come home.  The thing is, hubb and I have neither a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.  This can be taken literally and figuratively.  If I had money, I would most certainly pay for the whole thing but I have none and a third child on the way to boot.  Still, somehow, I end up being a selfish daughter and the financial burden to bring my brother (Meb) home from Japan must rest on my mother’s shoulders once again.  Well, what the hell?  She is his mother and is responsible for that sort of thing.  I have 2 (almost) 3 children of my own to take care of and bankroll for.

This just brings me back to my childhood where she would put an extreme amount of pressure on me.  I helped raise my little brothers and take care of the household.  Sometimes, it felt as though I were a 30 year old living inside the body of a 12 year old.  I had kids before I had a period.  I don’t blame my parents for these things as I don’t think they had a choice.  In the end it made me a more mature and capable person but still, they coddle and baby my brothers (who are 25, 20, and 18 respectively).  They expect me to do the same.  They don’t have faith that my brothers can handle things on their own.  It’s really sad.

On the other hand, I have 2 children of my own who barely get to see their grandparents.  My mother tries hard to make an effort to see the kids.  She really does.  My father on the other hand, makes no effort at all and then expects all of the effort to fall on MY shoulders.  He’s seen my children a total of maybe 6 times in 4 years.  Owbie is only 3 1/2 and Pretty is 16 months.  So she has only seen my dad 3 of the 6 times.

I feel like I have to force him to give a fuck.

My mom cares but does very little to change the situation.  If my dad wants something, he gets it.  If he doesn’t want something, then she doesn’t do it either.  She makes a bit more of an extended effort (so I really don’t feel like I can be mad at her about this).  My dad on the other hand, makes no effort whatsoever.  In the 10 years I have lived here, my father has come to visit me only once (for Owbie’s baptism).  His vacation time is eaten up by events on his own side of the family.  I’m having my final baby this year, but he is using the rest of his vactation time to attend the wedding of my cousin.  Do you think he could spare a couple of days for his own daughter and his new grandchild and current grandchildren?  Nope.

I try so hard to be understanding and non-selfish when it comes to my parent’s attention and affection.  On the other hand I ask…. when do I get a turn?  When do my children become suddenly important to my father?  My mom tries to tell me that dad loves his grandkids and loves getting things for them.  In reality, I think she is blowing a big wad of smoke up my butt.  The truth is, he doesn’t care.  The only thing he cares about is my mom (which is a good thing) and getting to have HIS time.  Actions speak louder than words.

So all of this crap is coming to a head and i’m sitting here “crying it out”.  Whenever it comes to my parents, i’ve always gotten the short end of the stick.  Their attention has always been toward my brothers.  I love my brothers.  So, there’s no jealousy there.  Only pent up anger toward my parents.  I have tried to talk to them in the past but it falls on deaf ears.

Right now, my brother Mikey is the one who my kids know the most from my family.  Mikey makes an effort to be apart of my life and I make an effort to be apart of his.  We actually are extremely supportive of one another.  It’s a good bond that we have.  It is only a matter of time before my other two brothers (Meb and Shark) are brought in to the bond.

Coming full circle here:  I really don’t want to end up like my parents.  I really want to treat my children with love, respect and encouragement no matter what age they are.  I want to show each of them how important they are to me.

No wonder I eat to numb the pain.  It’s better than facing stuff like this.

Guilt is an emotion that rises after a wrongdoing, which may be contrary to one’s own or cultural values. Guilt is a common emotional reaction to our defending Inner Critic, proclaiming, “You have broken a rule and you should (not), must (not), or ought (not) behave like this means, guilt implies that you did something ‘wrong’.” Feeling guilty often amplifies personal shame, and feels similar to it. Moderate (”normal”) guilt promotes healthy personal decisions.

There is a different between guilt and shame, guilt is about our actions taken; shame is about the self-behavior. (Charminghealth.com) Often the causes of “Feeling guilty and holding ourselves responsible for all wrongdoings“ are more mental than physical. A bad relationship, poor self image, a history of abuse, stress, frustration and many other factors can change your overall attitude towards life which may directly impede your overall performance. Such tendencies are deep-rooted in mind and nurtured by excessive Negative Emotions (Charminghealth.com)

For as long as I can remember, I have always felt guilty and shameful for things that were not my fault.  If something went wrong in my parent’s marriage, I felt as if it were my fault.  If our house was somehow a mess, it was all me.  The guilt complex has (I believe) helped in fucking me over emotionally.  So to speak.

There are so many instances where I would find myself eating out of guilt or shame.  The intense feelings lead to an inner voice that told me I deserved to be fat.  That I was fated to be fat because of all of my bad choices.  I told myself that I was not good enough to be thin.  Though I have always tried to be a good person, I have always felt like a bad person.  Feeling bad about myself turned into a ritual of name calling and naming off a list of good things that I certainly did not deserve.   So down the hatch went the krispy kremes.  Who gives a fuck, right?  I’m unlovable so why care?

That was me then.

When I was in school, kids were especially cruel.  Not a day went by that a disparaging “fat comment” wasn’t called out.  The butt of everyone’s jokes… that is who I was.  I let it define me when I was in school.

Now, i’m an adult who has three kids and I find myself sliding back to adolescent Mia.  As it stands, I feel hugely guilty everyday.  I feel that i’m not an adequate mom, wife or friend.

My inner critic is loud and proud.  She has started taking on the voice of my mother.  My mother is an extremely critical person and has been critical of me my whole life.  I don’t blame her for the choices she made as I do not believe she could have reacted any other way.  Being critical and controlling is ingrained in her.  It is how she was treated as a child.  Unfortunately, I am my mother’s daughter.  I find myself to be critical but I try to up the anti with sweetness and encouragement.

I made a promise to myself a long time ago, that I would not treat another human being as I was treated.  I made a promise that I would always encourage my children to be their very best and that I would always be their biggest fan no matter what.

Now the question becomes; why do I find it most difficult to be my own biggest fan?  The “present me” wants so desperately to get the inner critic to take a breather and shut up for awhile.  I want the voice to change over to the inner encourager.  Let that voice take the reigns for awhile.

I’m trying to sift through the things in my life (from then to now).  I don’t blame my parents for everything or anything really.  Certain instances that happened in my childhood certainly played part in where I am at today, but it only defines who I am if I let it.

I am the only one in control of me.  Not my parents, not my husband… just me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reference:

Excessive Guilt, Feeling extremely guilty. Retrieved April 23, 2008, from CharmingHealth.com Web site: http://www.charminghealth.com/applicability/guilt.htm

Late yesterday, my husband and I had an epiphany together.  I finally opened up to him and told him about my depression, weight gain, and general unhappiness with myself.

I am so in love with him and my children but I am not in love with myself.  The depression is sending me spiraling down a rabbit hole and at the moment, I am having a tough time looking to the bright side.

After weighing in at 307 pounds last Monday, I realize that things need to change.  99% of my confidence and depression issues stem from not losing the weight post pregnancy and gaining even more on top of that.  It is a vicious cycle that plays on my emotions.  To succumb to it is only natural for me because that’s what I have done from pre-teen years to now.

I have decided to try and lose some weight before the baby is born.  No crash diets for me, though I have always known that carbs are my enemy.  Well, to a certain extent anyway.  I am two steps away from developing full blown diabetes.  I love sugar, bread and anything made with yeasty goodness.

When I was younger, my motivation was to get sexy and enjoy the bar hopping life.  To find a companion and fall madly in love.  To feel good about myself and party enough to have no regrets.  About 6 months ago, I had to revamp those goals.  I have a husband I love, children I adore and a life that is altogether pretty darn good (knock on wood).  So what is my motivation now?

After spending 6 months asking myself that question, it comes down to this:

My motivation is…… me.  I want to be good to myself which will in turn allow me to be better for my family.  I want to enjoy life again (something I have not done fully in 5 years).  I want to enjoy shopping, sex, trips out, get togethers with friends and family.  I want to be active for my kids.  I want them to embrace a healthy life style and I want to have fun with them.  How simple is that?  I want to put the fun back into life.

Death at an early age scares me.  With the depression and poor lifestyle habits (eating crap food and getting absolutely NO exercise) I am afraid that the powers that be will decide I am a lost cause.  I can’t do that to my children.  I can’t do that to my husband.  I can’t do that to myself.

So, important decisions were made.  My husband and I have decided to health up.  No more fast food, soda pop or anything remotely resembling junk.  Once we can get that out of our systems, we can begin to build back up with healthy foods.  Sure, there will be times we will want to spring for pizza or some other fast food but we’ll be armed with better habits.  For now, it is better to not touch fast food altogether.  Too much temptation.

The second decision is that I vow to get 30 minutes of exercise everyday.  I’m going to start out with walking.  After the baby is born, I will start to bike ride again.

Third, I have decided that I will talk to my doctor about putting me on anti-depression meds.  I need them right now.

There’s no doubt about it.

I cannot do this alone.

I don’t know what is wrong with me.  One moment i’m on an even path of consciousness and the next I feel like i’m fighting just to breathe.

Today was a bad day.  Maybe it’s because of lack of sleep.  Maybe it’s because yesterday I had two big glasses of caffeinated goodness in the form of Coca Cola.   Today I felt like crap.

I woke up this morning and found that my adorable son put poo all over the carpet.  He’s 3 and 100% potty trained.  He had to go poo and chose to do it in his pants.  Not liking the way it felt, he decided to pull said pants off and spread the poo around.  I was so frustrated and irritated in that moment.  Not a good way to wake up for sure.

Then, the rest of the day dragged by.  It was deliciously sunny and warm outside but I could not seem to muster up some enthusiasm to take the kids outside.  We spent the day inside where I was a very tired and cranky mumma.  My bebes were fed and taken care of but the house was not touched.  As of right now, it looks like a tornado whipped through.

I didn’t get dressed either.  I have been doing a daily ritual (since October) of taking a shower and putting on a clean pair of PJs after.  I don’t put on makeup, I don’t do my hair up all cute and I look like a disaster on a daily basis.  I know that my husband minds but he does not say anything.  The only thing he says is that once this baby is born… I am going back to normal people clothes.

I have to admit i’m off my game in a big way right now.  Some days are good.  I feel clear and happy on those days.  Other days, it is as if a dark cloud follows and watches my every move.  What the fuck is wrong with me?  Why do I feel as if i’m two steps away from throwing myself off of a cliff?

My weight doesn’t help.  I currently tip the scales at 300 pounds.  Not a glory mark to be sure.  I’m eating the wrong things, crying and just plain ol’ feeling miserable right now.  Every part of my pelvic and hip area hurts like a mo’ fo’.  I want to exercise but I can barely walk.  I’m a skinny person trapped in a GoodYear Blimp.

I want to analyze why today has been so shitty but I have a headache and my puffy eyes are begging to be closed.  I promised myself that I wouldn’t wallow in this house because this is a new house.  New house.  New Mia.  See how this is supposed to work?  These walls are going to soak up all of this negative energy and then spit it back out onto us all.  I cannot let that happen.

I have been wallowing in the depths of introspection lately. After I wrote my introduction post last week, I took the time to really come to grips with what has happened thus far in my life. What I have come to realize is that we all have a certain amount of baggage. Wading through the baggage is something that takes time and a heavy reserve of mental resources. When you begin to understand why you react the way you react to certain situations, you want nothing more than to change your path. Like Dr. Phil often says…. it’s not working so plug in and find something that works.

The questions I have asked myself (to exhaustion, I might add) this week are; why do I continue to go down a path that I know will only lead to feeling bad? Why do I make certain choices that make me miserable in the end? What the hell makes me happy? When I am happy, why is the happiness short-lived?

Becoming a happily married mom of three has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember. Now that I have reached the goal, I feel a little lost. Sure, I have other goals: Finish my college education, lose weight, get a great job, etc. but somewhere along the line i’m afraid of the outcome of each goal. In finding a measure of success in any of these areas i’m almost afraid that it will ruin what I have right now. Don’t get me wrong. While I feel lost, I am also happy to be with my husband and children. I feel blessed everyday to have them in my life.

It’s like there are two versions of me and i’m trying to get them to meld together somehow.

You could read the “About Me” page *or* I can just come out and tell you about me. So, this is me telling you about me. Original eh?

Getting on with it…

I’m a mom in my late 20’s. I got hit by a truck at the age of 22, got pregnant at the age of 23 and after that was fired from two jobs in 2 years. The first job I was fired from lasted three years. In that three years, I became pregnant, had my baby, gained a bunch of weight during and after the pregnancy and then became pregnant with baby number 2. I was fired from this job because simply put, I hated it there. They knew it. I knew it. The whole world knew it. I hated it so much in fact, that I signed up at a site called F This Job. I would bitch and complain on a monthly basis there. Being able to release my pent up postal attitude and read the woe-is-me tales of other employees made me feel better. Every day at this particular job was indeed the worst day of my life. I identified with that Peter guy from the move “Office Space” really well.

I was fired from that job at 6 months pregnant. Pregnancy brought out a rage of hormones that didn’t help me much. If I really disliked something, my pregnancy hormones made me *hate* that something. It was hard to hide how I felt. Looking back, I don’t blame them for firing me. Toxic attitudes are not good for any company. I only wish they would have fired me sooner.

The second job, I call my rebound job. I landed the job upon first interview on the very next day that I was fired from the first company. Talk about a much needed ego boost! Then came the pressure. I was 6 months pregnant, heavy and emotional. Though I will say that during the rest of my pregnancy I was on fire at this place! I truly owned my position and made it my mantra to change my situation. I didn’t quite click with my boss but I loved the other female co-worker there (she was engaged and loved karaoke. Truly one cool chick!) so it was all good! By the time maternity leave came around, I had secured my position there. They loved me. I loved them. It was a match made in heaven (or so it seemed). Also at the time, I had started school. For some reason, when I was 4 months pregnant with baby she-monkey, I decided I didn’t want to be a mere peon anymore. I wanted to conquer the business world. So, I enrolled in a Baccalaureate program at an accredited school that also had a great online program. At the time, I thought I wanted to go into Human Resources.

Anyway…. getting back to maternity leave…

My maternity leave was pretty good. My 2nd C-section (the first was due to failure to progress) went off without a hitch and the recovery time was fairly fast! By the time 4 weeks rolled around I *felt* ready to go back to work. Being at home with two kids for four weeks was pretty easy so it would be even easier to go to work full time and attend school full time as well, right? Wrong. I resumed my position at the company and all was well. However, things had changed in the quick four weeks I was gone. Most of the people I had become accustom to working with left for Florida on a job down there. So a bunch of new people were hired in. Then, the office girl I *really* clicked with found out that her fiancee had got a job offer in another state. For obvious reasons, she was going with him. I was already pretty hormonal at that point, so when she left, I was devastated.

So many changes in the blink of an eye! All of the sudden, it didn’t feel like the company I signed up with! All of the sudden, I felt so very lost. My boss got weird on me at this point. I noticed how catty she was (a woman being catty…. what a shocker, right?) and had become especially after the one girl left. This girl had been her BFF and helped her tremendously with everything! Once she left, she was not even fit to be dirt on the bottom of the boss’s shoe.

Then, a new girl got hired in and my kids started getting sick. I swear on a weekly basis I was home at least a day or two with one of them. The daycare’s policy is that if your child is sick, he or she cannot be at daycare. So, being that I am mom, I stayed home with them. I couldn’t help it and had no other option. I knew that work would be mad, but I really tried my hardest to be the best employee ever! I came in early, sometimes didn’t take a lunch and left late. I knew they wouldn’t be happy…. but I didn’t know that I would be written up for it! So, I got my first write up ever. I have always gotten rave reviews. Even at the last job, my reviews were stellar. In the end, it was a personality conflict.

After the write up, my husband punched his hand through a wall (long story there). In doing so, he broke many important bones in his hand. This warranted surgery. I needed to take more time off to be there for him and to take him to and from the hospital. It was my wifely duty and what I needed to do. My boss was not pleased and yelled at me because I was late coming in after dropping him back off at home. Murphy’s law happened and he got out of surgery late. How could I have possibly predicted that?

Soon after that, things between my boss and I got tense. I was literally afraid to go to the bathroom there. The more I tried to focus, the less focused I became. Before the breaking of the hand and after I had gotten written up for the first time, I became deeply depressed. I felt that I was failing as a mother, failing as a wife and failing as an employee. No matter how hard I tried, I was unable to make it work. The more I thought about it, the less focused I had become.

After the hand incident, I began shutting down at work. If a stressful task would come my way or my boss would yell at me about something, I checked out to a happier place. I started playing around on the internet more, concentrating on work less and overall just became a zombie in every area of life. So, not even a year on the job (actually a few days shy of a year), my boss fired me. I didn’t care. I was relieved. Upon the relief, I knew I needed a break. I was looking forward to a bit of a break.

Now… let’s talk about weight gain. I had already gained about 30 lbs after giving birth to my son (through the course of 18 months). I weighed in at 185 (pre-pregnancy) and 230 (post pregnancy) and then after 18 months weighed 265. I was 265 when pregnant with baby she-monkey. I think I gained like 30lbs during my pregnancy with her. However, after she was born, I weighed 260. Then, I ate and ate and ate due to all the stress I was under with my job, family and school. By the end of the job I weighed 285 lbs. I gained 100 lbs in 3 years. Pretty amazing. Pretty shitty.

So, here I am. Trying to fight my way out of this fog. I am currently pregnant with baby number 3 (totally by accident I assure you! We thought we were done at 2). I feel a little lost. I know that I am dealing with postpartum depression. My mom begged me to get help but instead I told her I was a “warrior” and didn’t need help. I just needed to buck up. Well, obviously I wasn’t much of a warrior.

I have already discussed ppd with my doctor. He told me that he will put me on meds before the baby is born. That way, we can head off anything major (i.e. hurting my children). The funny thing is, of all the emotions and feelings and rage i’ve had inside… none of it was directed toward the kids. If anything, they helped me retain my focus on them. I didn’t shut down with them the way I did in other areas of my life. If anything, I was dealing with the guilt of being away from them during the work day. Spending every moment I could with them became an obsession.

That’s my life in a nutshell. I changed my major from HR (because clearly it wasn’t for me. I hated accounting and payroll at rebound job!) to web development. I absolutely LOVE the internet. In fact, I run 2 blogs and 1 mom site. I’ve been doing this for over 2 years now! I have learned a lot and cannot wait to learn more!

My name is not really Mia… but it is a protective alias for myself because of the personal thoughts and feelings I share in this blog.  Mia is my current ego that I dub a pen name.  Everything else in the blog is an accurate account of my feelings and things that have happened in my life.

I really want to find myself. Words cannot express how lost I have felt for 3 years. If you made it this far, you are brave.