Bipolar Mommy

This is a subject I've been wanting to tackle for a while. It's close to my heart and often effects my day to day life. It's played a part in making my teen years extra crazy, my adulthood sometimes scary, and my role as mother even more challenging than I'd like to admit.

Bipolar disorder is a psychological disorder that can send you skyrocketing into a manic episode, or sink you into the depths of a deep depression. When I was younger my manic episodes took me places like Joshua tree, by myself, on a whim, on a school day. Other times, an episode of depression would leave me an entire semester behind because the suffocating blows that left me unable to get out of bed.

Anyone who suffers from bipolar disorder will laughingly tell you stories of something crazy they did during a manic episode, once I spent hours hallucinating little red people who needed to be picked off my blanket, which in reality were just lint balls. My mom thought I was on drugs and sat up with me all night. Another time, I literally relocated my mattress and high heels (what else does a girl need, amiright?) into the downstairs bathroom, because I wanted a change of scenery. I had short hair for years because I could never go more than a few months without impulsively cutting it all off again. I also had a crazy god-complex during my manic episodes and would go days without sleeping or eating for no other reason then...I could.

All of this added up to one very crazy teenage girl back in the day. My parents took me to a psychologist when I was 16 and we got started on the long and arduous journey to finding the right meds to balance me out.

One sanity-cocktail made me gain 30 lbs! Another, at 16, made my hair fall out in clumps. One drug actaully left me feeling even crazier than I was initially, I had a soggy brain and a stutter, that was a no-go!

Finally, I found my mix. I stabilized.

By the time I was 22 I was on 4 different medications, I carted around my little personal pharmacy and went about life. (note: sobriety helped immensely)

Then, bam! I was pregnant.

I was terrified to come off my meds. I talked to my obgyn, my psychologist, and a specialist, and slowly began tapering off everything.

Anxiety meds were the first to go. A beta-blocker and a benzo, now I was on my own to deal with the anxiety issues I had finally escaped.

Next was essentially a high dose antihistamine, I didn't notice the loss of this one quiet as much but it was the last of my 'calming' meds and so now I really was raw to everything.

Pair the loss of these types of meds with the insanity of the 1st trimester and my poor husband had his hands full. I remember yelling at him, like a banshee, for the first time in our relationship at this point. Over taco bell, or something equally pointless.

The last to go was Lamictal, and this was the big one.

For those of you who have been treated for Bipolar disorder, or anything else in the spectrum of crazy that Lamictal is prescribed to, you know how awesome this drug is. For those of you who aren't familiar with this wonder pill, let me explain.

Drugs that treat depression, bipolar, and other mood disorders, are infamous for a few things.

First, they make you gain a lot of weight. When I say a lot, I mean, without changing my actual diet, at 16 I went from 105 to 135 in about two months.

Second, they leave you feeling 'too' balanced. Instead of feeling normal you just feel, well, blank.

Third, while treating your depression they can actually leave you feeling very suicidal, which is in part due to the blank, dull feeling that comes with being 'too' balanced like stated above.

After experiencing all of this, plus major hair loss (thanks Depakote) I was introduced to that little miracle drug Lamitcal and all was calmed.

Now though, I was pregnant, and while I could stay on a low dose while pregnant, I was going to have to have a totally clean system if I wanted to breastfeed.

I weighed out my pros and cons. In my 2 years of sobriety I had found a new level of sanity that I believed could carry me through the breastfeeding stage and my husband agreed to let me try, on the basis that I keep in touch with my therapist and get back on the meds if things started to feel unstable.

Lamitcal is a fantastic drug and really does it's job well. In this case however, too well. In order to have a 'clean system' and normally restored blood levels I had to tapped off and have 3 months minimum before it would be totally out of my system.

That brings me to today. Charlotte is 6.5 months old now, and that means I've been completely off everything for nearly 10 months! On the plus side, only recently have I begun to feel the slight waves of manic/depression, but on the negative side, I am beginning to feel the slight waves of manic/depression.

This breaks my heart because I know that it's my duty to my daughter, and myself, to make sure I'm mentally stable. I can't care for her if I can't get myself out of bed.

My throat tightens and my eyes start to water as I type this, really admitting to myself, and anyone who happens to read this, that it's time to get back on the meds.

I want to be a good mom. I want to nurse my sweet baby girl, to nourish and comfort her, and I'm going to have to give this up. I'm really going to miss the sweet snuggles that only mommy gets while she falls asleep next to me during her midnight feedings, but if a manic episode kept me up the night before, I'll be too tired to appreciate them anyways.

I need to treat my anxiety, because holing up in the house for days on end due to social anxiety isn't going to be okay when she's old enough to want to go to the park, or to play with friends.

These are the kind of things bipolar mommy's have to deal with. We sacrifice in different ways, and it's a unique pain that comes with it.

Yes, back on my meds I may lead a more balanced life. I'll have an easier time staying sober, finding a job, holding to my commitments. But I'll also desperately be missing parts of my daughters baby years, and I'll have to work through giving up nursing. When the formula constipates her, I'll probably cry. When she grabs at me and wants to nurse, I'll also probably cry. But I know one day she'll be older, and we'll go to the park, or the beach or whatever, and I won't have to worry about the crowds of people and I can just enjoy my daughter.

 I know I'm not the only one who's had to deal with this. And I know not everyone is comfortable talking about this. But if you have experience, or any thoughts on this I'd love to get a conversation running in the comments, but please, please, be sensitive and positive when talking about moms and meds, it's a touchy subject so keep a kind heart <3