Change is one of the things I struggle with most. Losing my dad at a young age made me crave stability, sameness, don't-ever-leave-me-ness. In fact, my heart always leaps when I hear someone say, "Oh, I didn't recognize you. You look different." In my head, I react: Different?! I've changed? Then: panic.
I've gotten better. In fact, one of the things that's been both challenging and beautiful about being pregnant is change.
At 20 weeks, I am in awe and mostly having the best time ever. And yet, some change can be scary: I'm also weaning myself off antidepressants and I can feel my brain slipping a bit.
My doctor wants me off the medication by the third trimester. This morning, I looked in the mirror and took a deep breath: This change is good. This change is okay. This change is beautiful.
Why am I sharing this? A few years ago, it was a choice of mine — a deeply thought-out choice — to share about my journey with depression and anti-depressants.
When I started really sharing who I was — whether it was the fact that I was on anti-depressant medication, my profound hearing loss, struggles with an eating disorder or ectopic pregnancy a couple of years ago — I think it opened up a whole world for people waiting for someone to create a space where they, too, could share without any stigmas.