Week 5 & 6: DTD while TTA with a side of Zoloft

  Me: "So, we can't use condoms."

  Bee: "Okay."

  Me: "And, I don't do birth control."
  Bee: "Ookaayy..."

  Me: "So, I would imagine that me being so regular in my cycle that we are going to get pregnant pretty quickly."

  Bee: "Gotcha..."
  Me: "Oh, and no sex until we are married."

  Almost 5 and a half years ago, a conversation very similar to this took place between me and white boy. I felt it important to lay down everything I wanted, needed, and expected in a relationship due to the fact that I was done chasing and giving in to men. I figured if he stuck around then there was something worth pursuing. 

  With conversations like this, he never flinched. Not once. I think he might have been skeptical at times, perhaps to see if I would relinquish my, "You have to come to Mass with me. There is no choice, and our children will be raised Catholic," harsh expectations. But once I realized he wasn't going anywhere, our relationship actually began.

  Skip to the honeymoon...sex. We finally had it. We loved it. We practiced often. We explored each other in ways that I had always dreamed of, and nothing was off limits. I could unabashedly take what he gave and give him what he asked. It was beautiful. But, we didn't get pregnant. In fact, we continued to have an amazing sex life up until I gave birth. But, that was 3 years of unprotected sex (love-making if we use his terminology.) And it was 3 years of a barren land. 

  As a practicing Catholic, I knew that I couldn't/wouldn't use contraceptives of any kind. I was fine with it, and even welcomed the thought of getting pregnant once I tied the knot. I was 32 and not getting younger; so a kid seemed like a welcomed addition to my life. White boy agreed. He had enjoyed his wild days, and more than anything...he wanted kids...much more than I did.

  It wasn't until I held him as we made love with tears on both our faces that we conceived. To this day, it was the most honest, selfless, and healing intimate act I have ever experienced. It was not even a full week previous, we had said goodbye to his father. It was a long battle his father fought and finally left to see his Maker, but it wasn't before he must have surrendered his will so we could give life to his grandson.

  Fast-forward to 6 weeks post-partum and wanting to have intimate relations with my husband and yet completely terrified of getting pregnant. I never practiced NFP (Natural-Family Planning...this is the Catholic approved way to avoid pregnancy) because we weren't trying to NOT get pregnant. Now, I fear that the moment we engage in the marital act we so enjoy, we could, at any moment, get pregnant. 

  I joined a group on Facebook that encouraged NFP and was, in a sense, a general questions and answers group. I thought this would be a great place to start. Yeah...let's just say that there are harsh judgmental people in all groups...especially traddies (inside Catholic joke.) What I came to realize among all their lingo is this: I am wanting DTD while TTA (Do The Deed while Trying To Avoid) *facepalm* 

  This just adds another level of *fuck me* ... Dealing with a newborn, going back to work full time (from home while dealing with the newborn), still healing from surgery, mentally being on edge 24/7, and now not able to do the one thing that I could really benefit from. UGH! I haven't gone longer than a week and a half without sex since I got married, and now I have to navigate all this shit so I can have it again?! *another facepalm*

 

  Doctor: "How are you?"

  Me: "Eh."

  Doctor: "That good, huh?"

  Me: "Yeah...I wanted to talk to you about getting on meds. I don't think I am fairing well enough."

  Doctor: "Do you want to hurt yourself? Do you want to hurt your baby?"
  Me: "Well, no. Not blatantly. I want him to stop crying. I want him to settle down. I want him to just stop, and I know that that won't happen...so there are moments when I put him down so I can function like a normal human being. Then I feel this intense amount of guilt that he is crying and I can't handle it. I am tired of crying myself to sleep if he cries longer than I can handle. I am tired of trying to think I have to fix every issue that arises and I resent it when I can't and also resent that I have to or feel that I have to. It has gotten worse since I went back to work on Monday. Taking care of a newborn and trying to completely function as a member of my corporation...is really fucking hard. And I feel like shit."

  Doctor: "Okay."

  I knew that there would be a high chance that I would need some sort of chemical balancing medication after I gave birth. I needed it when I wasn't pregnant (I was taking Maca root...OTC mood stabilizer) and I had a feeling I would need it when a little person was introduced into my life. And...I wasn't wrong. I talked to enough people who are very close to me that encouraged me to not put up with the insanity that comes with trying to "naturally deal with motherhood." In fact, two people said, "I should have gotten on the moment I popped them out." 

  I do realize that medications like Zoloft are still taboo (can't for the life of me figure out why) but I know one thing...as I sit here and type this I am fine, but later: tonight, tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon, or perhaps tomorrow night, I will fall into this dark place that I can't navigate out of and the people who suffer the most are me and my son. And I refuse to continue that darkness.

  

  Newborns aren't fun. New motherhood isn't fun. This is not fun, but it will be. Eventually. Today, Owen is 6 weeks old. He is still kicking and screaming and now smiling every time he falls slightly asleep in my arms. Although he doesn't remember my harshness, he remembers my soft and warm arms, and I pray that is what imprints on his mind. And by not only the grace of God but the help of Zoloft and eventually sex with white boy, I will embrace the beauty of motherhood and hold on to what modicum of sanity I have left.