My official due date is one month from today.

I’m terrified.

And if I hear “It’ll be so much better this time - last time you were in Brasil…” one more time….

Listen world, once and for all - It Wasn’t Brasil.  Heck, I want to go back right.  now.  It was postpartum depression.  It would have happened anywhere.  Being in a foreign country was a blessing - I was able to fall apart and hide in peace, it was actually very freeing.  I was incredibly GRATEFUL to be hidden away while I fell apart without the pressure to put on a facade.  And I was blessed to find the best psychatrist I’ve ever had there - a friend of mine (Brasilian, spoke no English) knew something was wrong, and insisted on dragging me along to her own appointment (she’s a widow and a single mom) and got me the help I needed.

It was the shock - that’s the exact word I’d use to describe it - of bringing WT home that was so tough on the both of us.  We couldn’t have prepared for it, we didn’t know how our bodies would react.  Being woken up all night was huge and terrifying, as was not having any idea of what to do, having my body rejected by her constantly and being suddenly, completely out of control.

I’m thinking the shock will not be as great - heck, WonderToddler has done a fair job of turning our lives irrevocably inside out so we’re used to that.  But I’m still terrified, building mental fortifications against the darkness that may come.  I have my medical history in hand, and a few resolutions from what worked and didn’t last time.

But in the end, it’s all out of my control again.  I thought I had it all figured out - we had a house, we had family, we had friends, we had the doctor and the hospital, and now, again, in the last month I’m without it all.  I give up.  I really hope being a mom for almost 3 years has lessened my need to control everything in the universe….