The Storm is Brewing

There are dark clouds on the horizon. I can see them coming my way. And although the sun is still shining overhead, the air smells like rain and I can sense the change in pressure. A storm is brewing. Having survived the almighty tempest once before, I am ever attuned to the subtle changes in my psyche that signal its impending reappearance. Triggered primarily by sleep deprivation but nourished by a rich broth of hormonal soup, pregnancy and birth-related depression is a frightening condition to which I am particularly susceptible. And the events of the past couple of weeks have put me on high alert.