Five months down...and I'm UP!

About three months left.  Those are the interesting ones, are they not?

But I'll address that in a moment...first to catch up.
I only got worse.  More psychotic.  I was suicidal one weekend and had to tell Josh to hide car keys.  I had a few anxiety attacks, or that's what I assume they were, which I've never had in all my life.  I was completely miserable.  I was sure the only way to solve ANY problem in the world (which was all world appeared to be), was to die or get the baby out one way or the other.  Luckily neither happened, but I feel better.

What did happen: I called my midwife, who promptly prescribed an herbal blend for mental disorders, along with 'support'.  She said both were equally important and that I was to ask friends to help watch the kids so that I could have 'mental health' time to myself.  I did ask friends, but I failed to follow through.  Well, one or two may have had my kids, or a couple of them, for a short time, but it was hard to accept help from people I know well enough to know what issues they have in their own lives.  I'm the type that tells a person I'm helping them, no 'ifs, ands or buts'.  I needed that.  Ah well, at least I survived without it.
Besides not wanting to burden anyone else, I also had NOTHING I wanted to do while I was alone.  I felt so alone all the time anyway, why would I want to be?  I didn't want to take a walk by the lake, then I'd have to think more, and that's all I was doing.  I didn't want to walk around the shops downtown, then I'd know all the things I was missing out on.  Yeah, it didn't seem healthy to spend time along hating myself...so I just had the kids here, did minimal housework and childcare, and we all survived.  And that was ALL we did.

I think part of that survival was due to knowing that my own mother was moving into this poor town and going to save me.  She subsequently has, and I'm much better...but still pregnant, if that makes sense.

Also, there was one day over yet another weekend (seems to be the worst times because I expect Josh to make everything better...but he can't cause it's impossible), I was really quite bad again.  Josh had finally had enough, and although I'm not at liberty to describe the event (although note-worthy), his reaction that day was what I must have needed.  That and many prayers from others being answered, along with enough time for the herbs to possibly start working...and I chilled out.  I locked myself in a room, sort of, for the rest of the day and quit.  I just quit.  And I've been mostly better since.

Now my chief complaints are TOO MUCH MOVEMENT!  This baby won't stop.  Drives me crazy.  I'm one who thinks it's only sometimes fun to guess the body part that just jabbed me in one area or another, but mostly it's creepy that a living person is floating around inside of me moving at will.  Reminds me of a bad alien movie (possibly Howard The Duck or Gremlins...I haven't watched either for so long).
Luckily this thing WON'T POP out of me...no matter what the ladies at church ask me: I AM NOT POPPING.  I will go into LABOR and will be miserable until I DELIVER this baby from an area you and I are familiar with.  DON'T ASK WHEN I WILL POP. I am not housing an alien. That is all.

I also feel HUGE.  I have been told I look small, and great, and Josh says sexy...but come on people, I can see myself.  Although I may 'hide' things well because of my height...I am huge.  It's a fact.  And from your angle WAAAAY down there, it may not look huge.  Add 40 lbs to anyone, and it's not pretty...not matter where they store it.

Plus it only gets worse from here!  Three more months of pure GROWTH.  Ugh.  I'm so tired. And fat.

Anyway, that's probably more than enough for now.
I AM SO THANKFUL to be happy, or at least not miserable.  I like to be alive again, and on a few momentary occasions, I've been excited to have another little, tiny creature to take care of.  I do think it's a girl, and that may be the scariest part.  Hope she looks good in browns and blues and greens :).