It’s been six weeks and a few days since the arrival of our sweet baby boy. To think it’s already been close to two months since blows my mind.
Time has a funny way of going by painfully slow, but insanely fast in retrospect.
I say painfully slow because up until this week, life was passing by at a snail pace for me… again.
This isn’t the first time I had a bad case of baby blues aka postpartum depression. It’s almost hard for me to type that out because I feel like a horrible mom to admit that I don’t enjoy every second of the newborn phase. But, this is my truth and I hope by sharing my story it will help other moms that may be struggling.
With my first born, it took me two weeks to finally admit I needed help at the encouragement of my husband. For days, I cried in despair along with my fussy daughter begging my husband to stay home because I couldn’t deal. I felt like my life was over and my busy body ways were gone. I would count the hours until Chad came home wondering when my life would ever be the same.
Thanks to the love and support of my family, close friends and amazing doctor I got help. The second I started enjoying life with my baby was the second I had to go back to work so that sucked, but none-the-less I was happy again with this new chapter.
I will never forget sharing my story with a person who didn’t have kids.
She said, “Do you think you will ever have another kid again?”
“Without a doubt.” I replied.
“Why would you want to do that knowing you could go through the darkness all over?” She asked.
“Because it’s worth it!” I said.
She looked at me like I had two heads in confusion.
I knew there would be a high probability of PPD striking again with the birth of Drew, but this time it would be different. There is light at the end of the tunnel, I reminded myself.
Baby Drew was born and I was on an incredible high for two weeks straight. Breastfeeding was going great, he was a dream baby sleeping and snuggling.
Then, week three hit: Guests left, preschool was out so my busy preschooler was home, and a gassy, fussy baby appeared thanks to my oversupply issues with nursing. The high I was experiencing slowly faded with each passing day.
It was in the kitchen making dinner I simply started crying again in front of my husband and unfortunately in front of my daughter.
“I don’t think I can do this!”
“Will life ever be the same?”
“Will I bond with my baby?”
“Should I quit breastfeeding?”
My husband consoled me reminding me that it will get better.
And, I know that just by looking at my daughter. I know it get’s easier, but in that moment I was filled with sadness and lacked the self confidence.
Reese approached me. She said softly, “Momma, don’t cry. Everything will be okay.”
And then I cried some more. I wanted to be a better mom for her, for Drew and for my entire family. I knew I couldn’t do it on my own…. Again…
With a call to my doctor, I got help again. I am not ashamed to say that I need antidepressants to curb PPD.
Weeks passed filled with good days and bad. I remained in survival mode not particularly LOVING this new chapter, but learning to cope with it. That sounds horrible just writing that, but it’s the truth. Depression robs us of our daily joys and I couldn’t stand for that to happen with my last baby.
I contemplated quitting the blog and my marketing business. I had NO motivation to do ANYTHING!
Thank goodness I feel ‘normal’ again.
The day I started to feel like myself started out a little differently. I got more sleep the night before so that helped. I woke up, glanced at my baby and smiled.
Throughout the day, I noticed I was not sad, but rather content and happy with our new found way of life. I felt confident and started to enjoy nursing. It wasn’t such a beating after all.
I smiled at Drew and he smiled back.
That was his way of telling me everything will be okay and it will get better.
I texted my husband throughout the day with happy messages instead of dreadful ones.
During their nap time, I finally opened my lap tap to write again.
All was not lost. Life goes on and it will be okay.
Perhaps it was the additional sleep, medicine, or my hormones settling down that helped me get to this place of peace. Whatever it is… I don’t care, but rather I am thankful to feel like myself again. My anxiety has lessened and I feel confident bringing both kids out into the real world. It really helps to get dressed, showered and out of the house.
Granted, I know some days ahead may be challenging, but I know how to cope much better than I did years ago.
It only took me six weeks to feel better, but for some moms it takes them months and sometimes years.
If you or someone you know is staying in the baby blues stage a little too long, it might be a case of PPD. Know that it’s okay to seek help and it happens to even the most happy-go-lucky people.
There is NOTHING to be ashamed of.
I know that life will never be the same as it was pre-baby, but I feel a lot better knowing that our new way of life will get easier and more enjoyable with each passing day. I feel excitement again and that makes me beyond happy.
And, I’ve bonded with my son!
I can’t imagine life without him or anyone in my family!
Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or counselor, but rather I am sharing my experience with depression. Please seek professional help if you think you are experiencing the same feelings.