Husband, Family Doctor, Perinatologist and I have been switching all my meds to prepare Uterus for Fetus-of-the-Future. Nothing has been so hard as giving up my Prozac. Now before you all start bombarding me with literature that suggests fluoxetine is probably safe, I've read it and I agree. Still, we switched to a class B product. Husband, Family Doctor, Perinatologist and I are trying our best to minimize medication risk as much as possible because the risks of being a fetus in my body are high enough as it is.
New Drug, which shall remain anonymous so that my personal loathing does not unduly influence readers, sucks. Really sucks, as in I can't believe I give this to depressed people. As in, I doubt I'll ever prescribe this again. As in, I can't wait to have this baby-making-nonsense over with so I can go back to my good friend.
So here's the big thing I've noticed: When well-medicated, I'm a happy person who happens to have depression. When not effectively medicated, I hate everybody, my temper has a hair trigger and I seriously contemplate taking this job and shoving it. This could be a long, long year, for me and everybody who knows me. Sorry, world. Hopefully I can give society a little slice of hope for the future to make up for my nastiness.
Check her out.