This week not only marks 5 weeks to go until my erm, grand opening but it also marks the descent into washout.
Remember my last washout? Yuh, it wasn't too pretty.
Unfortunately, for me, Dothep is safe for breastfeeding and not pregnancy and Zoloft is the reverse. I've been doing fantastically, mood-wise this entire pregnancy but time is fast slipping through the hour glass and we are aiming for a baby to be born with minimal, if any, medication in her system.
So, the time has come to wean.
A small blessing is the fact that I am on a relatively low dosage so coming off them won't be a long or explosive process - It's essentially a one third drop this week, then another in a fortnight before the seven day washout kicks in. The Dothep however, won't start until after the little Madam is born.
My first drop began on Monday and as is the most cases with most withdrawls, today sucks.
Anything could happen today and it'd still be sucky because my head and my body just aren't in a wonderful place but I feel heavy and exhausted. The world feels dark. Noises are too loud and everything seems just too much to process.
At 11am, Oscar and I went back to bed. Something that hardly ever happens, especially when their are groceries to be done and a house to be tidy (Yes, I am that anal!). I pulled the blankets up to my nose and thought about how much I would love to just lay there for the rest of the day. Riding out this awfulness in relative peace without needing to do anything or make any decisions would be amaze.
I even begged MC, who spent the morning at home, to take the day off work - Something I don't think I've ever done because I'm too proud to admit weakness. The conflicted look on his face as he told me he couldn't brought (no doubt, hormone-induced) tears to my eyes, and I wish I hadn't said anything in the first place.
We can't always have it the way we want it though and after he left for work at lunchtime, I had to accept that the world, our household or my responsibilities are just not going to stop simply because I'm feeling crappy. Being a grown-up sucks.
So, I did what any sooky, Mama's girl does - and I called my Mum, who listened to my self-indulgent pity party and then told me to roll with it until it passes. It always passes. Before ending the call, she told me she would stop by Woolies after work tonight to buy me the few things we need so I don't have to avoid grocery shopping in this mess. Despite the fact that my house is 15 minutes in the opposite direction. Despite knowing that both Amelia and Oscar will both throw erm, Oscar-winning performances when the time comes for her to leave. She is a good egg, that Mum of mine.
It's about 3pm now and I am about to go and stand under the hot, comforting stream of my shower. I have no expectations of getting anything done today and the kids are going to be beside themselves that Maccas is probably on the menu again for dinner. Whatevs. Some days you just have to do the bare minimum to get you through the day, and today is definitely one of those days!
And just to finish on an inspirational-bastard note - I'm looking forward to the sun, and my mood, rising tomorrow because this darkness is only temporary. Thank fuck.