Last night, I awoke to the sound of Jessie crying. Fearing what I thought to be another bad dream, I prepared myself for the beating I was about to receive. However, she starts saying how she can’t take being pregnant anymore; how it’s too hard on her mentally and physically.
She seems to be suffering from a form of depression that occurs during pregnancy, otherwise known as antepartum depression. About 10-20% of women will struggle with some symptoms of depression during pregnancy, and a quarter to half of these will suffer from major depression.
She seems to be suffering from a form of depression that occurs during pregnancy, otherwise known as antepartum depression. About 10-20% of women will struggle with some symptoms of depression during pregnancy, and a quarter to half of these will suffer from major depression.
I try to comfort her by telling her that I know and understand what she’s going through. Obviously, she sees right through this and shoots back that I have no doggone idea what being pregnant is like. I readily admit this fact and say that she’s right, I don’t understand. This statement doesn’t help the situation much either. I ask her what I can do to make her feel better. The answer is, "absolutely nothing."
I ask if she’s mad at me. She says she’s not, but I can’t tell if she really means it or not. It’s like when women say it’s OK to watch the sports game, but secretly, they hope you keep the channel on America's Next Top Model. And when you don't, they get upset. How are men supposed to understand women when they never say what they mean?! I’m a baby expert, not a mind reader. But I checked again with her this morning, and she genuinely didn’t seem upset at me, just upset at the pregnancy. That’s a relief, at least for me.
I feel at a loss here. My wife is clearly depressed and in need of comfort and support, but I am in no position to offer it to her because I can't relate to what she’s experiencing, can’t pretend that I do, and nothing I do or say helps. To steal a quote from the movie, Dodgeball, I feel "as useful as a poopie-flavored lollipop." I suppose that’s why pregnant women band together. But what are expectant fathers supposed to do?
My wealth of baby knowledge offers no help in these dire times. I can only hope that this is temporary moodiness.
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