So on Friday I had a super busy afternoon and I figured I had it all timed perfectly so I wouldn't be rushing anywhere. Well, when you are a patient in one of the best (and busiest) OB/GYN offices in your area, nobody gives two craps about your really awesome planning.
Because everybody is all, "LET'S GIVE BIRTH RIGHT WHEN SARA HAS HER APPOINTMENT!"
Normally, I wouldn't have cared but because I was doing the first trimester genetic screening and ultrasound, I had to come with a full bladder. And it was as full as it could possibly be because I am an over achiever like that. So I'm sitting in the waiting room, legs crossed, rocking back and forth so I didn't pee my pants. And of course, I keep feeling like I have to sneeze and I know damn well that if I did, I would have emptied my bladder on that floor in five seconds flat.
Thankfully for the custodians, I did not.
I got to stare and listen to some super strange people. First off, the girl behind me can't have been more than 19, maybe 20, and she's there with what looks like a parole officer or something. This girl is pregnant with her second child and she's there for her 20 week appointment, just had her ultrasound (it's a girl!) and then decided the basement waiting room with spotty reception is the best place to call baby daddy, who is also in jail, to tell him the good news. But she's got the volume as loud as it goes and talking into it like it's a walkie talkie* and he's screaming at her that of course it's not his because he isn't "able to have girls"**.
*I hate this. Please do not use your phone as a fucking walkie talkie. Nobody around you gives a crap about your conversation, hold it up to your head like you're supposed to do with a phone.
**This right here is why we need comprehensive sex ed in schools. This guy ACTUALLY believes he is incapable of producing a female child. *sigh*.
Anyways. So I finally get called back, and I don't know why, but I keep getting brought to the ultrasound room way in the back, and that's where I learned I had lost my baby (the baby before Penelope), and ever since then, I have high anxiety when I go in there. Like I need to just brace for the worst.
Which, no need to this time because Baby Four is very active.
Then I got to see my doctor, who I really like. She's just very laid back and nothing worries her and she's just very much a "it is what it is" kind of gal and that's great. It's super great unless you're dealing with major depression and feeling awful about it.
We talked about depression medication options and though my nurse practitioner 4 weeks ago said I ABSOLUTELY COULD NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES take Lexapro (which is what worked for me a few years ago), that's what my doctor prescribed me. She tells me it's a Class C drug which means they are pretty sure it's fine to take, but they haven't done drug testing trials on it during pregnancy because to find that many women willing to risk their baby in the name of prescription testing is next to impossible. But she's sure I'll be fine.
So I reluctantly leave.
I went home later on and did some basic Internet searching and you guys- I am terrified to take this. I can't even tell you how many pages and discussions boards I found with people talking about heart defects, breathing issues, etc that baby developed while mom was on Lexapro. I have friends who assure me it'll be fine but it's the worrier in me that's like, if it will happen to anyone, it will happen to me.
But I also feel really awful so realistically, I have to do something.
So I went to the pharmacy to get it. And they refused to give it to me. I'm not kidding. They refused. Told me I should ask my doctor for more information because I was pregnant and there are known side effects and risks.
So.... I left without it. I have a call into my doctor but fuck. It's so frustrating. Again, I'm mentally debating to myself- is it better to just be sad the entire time with a few good days and know I'm not putting my baby at risk OR do I say my mental health is worth more than the risks? If something, heaven forbid, happened to the baby because of me being on this, I would go right over the edge. I would feel endlessly guilty and like a horrible mother. I don't know that I'd really recover from that, you know?
In the meantime, I am down four pounds in the last four weeks and have a bump.