"I want my baby."

Saturday was a true snow day. I think the only people who ventured out in Charlotte were policemen and nurses, and since I'm not working right now, this doesn't apply to me. So everyone else, including my mother and me, stayed inside in their pajamas all day.

I felt calm on Saturday. I didn't cry, not once, and that is extremely rare. I slept 14 hours, breaking one of the rules of my treatment plan (I'm supposed to limit to 12, oops.)

But I realized today, Sunday, why I was so calm on Saturday. It was because I didn't feel obligated to do anything at all. I could sit at home, not even go out to get the mail, wear pajamas, not shower, eat hot soup and chocolate, and not have to feel guilty because the entire city is doing the same thing. This is the life of a depressed person.

We skipped church because the driveway and windshields were a block of ice. I slept another 12 hours, and by about 2pm, my mom was prodding me to get up so we could go out. She was tired of being cooped up. John got up and started to work on the driveway and play with the dogs. He said it was good "snowman snow" and so he made one. My mom and I had the following conversation.

Why don't you go out with John?

Why? So I can be obligated to enjoy myself?

Well, ok, then go outside and don't enjoy yourself. But we need to get out, it's not that cold, get some fresh air. John is making something.

What is he making? A stupid snowman for the child we don't have?

When John came back in, I said that same last sentence to him, and he said in a calm, but typically sarcastic voice, "Oh, so it's going to be one of THOSE kinds of days. ok. At least I know."

What is the point, really? Why should I go outside? Why should I run errands? Why should I go to the movies "just because". Just because it's a reason to go out? Why? WHY??

I'm trying though. I'm tried to imagine what the counselors would say tomorrow when I tell them I slept more than I should and had absolutely no living desire to leave the house to do anything at all. I guess that counts for something, that I know what I'm supposed to do, even if I resist doing it. I imagined if they asked me "why didnt you go out with your husband and your mother?", I would say, "because I didn't feel like it." And if they said "why not?", I would say "because I'm depressed and I want my baby."

It's that simple.

I have some pretty good friends though. John has been playing basketball on Sundays, which is so good for him, and one of the wives said she could come over while the guys played their basketball so we could go for a walk. I tried to tell her not to come, that I would just run the errands with my mom, but she was persistant, which is exactly what I need my friends to be right now. Two of my girls came over, with their dogs, and my mom and I walked our two. I genuinely enjoyed myself because I love those girls and the dogs are just a bunch of clowns. The counselors will be so proud.

The INSTANT I walked back inside, I plopped back onto my spot on the couch, and what entered my mind was..

I want my baby.

do you still want to go on those errands?

no.

do you want to watch a movie?

no.

do you want dinner?

no.

I don't want to watch a movie. Or run errands. Or eat. Or to go for an enjoyable walk. I don't want to go to therapy tomorrow. I don't want to make cookies that spell out Kathlyn. I don't want to take a shower, blowdry my hair, do laundry, dust, write a book, cry, scream, think about hurting myself, figure out when I'm ovulating, encourage my husband not to take so many baths, or be pregnant and scared, or adopt an orphan from Haiti. I want THIS baby. The one I already had. The one who lingers around my heart and inspires every single person I know, and even some who I don't.

I. Want. My. Baby.