I’ve been wanting to write this post for awhile, but I didn’t know how to start. Writing it is hard for me, but NOT writing it seems like a lie. So here goes.
I developed postpartum depression a few months ago. It wasn’t immediate … it took a few months after TWO was born for me to sink all the way down to the bottom of a hole so deep I couldn’t find my way out. I felt angry and sad and I cried all the time. There were several incidents where I went into fits of rage that actually freaked me out.
Several people close to me carefully mentioned I might need to speak with my doctor, but I was in denial. I thought my problem was sleep deprivation (which of course wasn’t helping). I thought it was all Husband’s fault. Somewhere deep inside of my head, I worried that I was simply a failure at this stay-at-home-mom-of-two thing. Maybe I just couldn’t handle it. Maybe it was all a mistake. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe I was married to a jerk. Maybe something was wrong with my kids. Everything seemed so cloudy … I couldn’t sort through it.
I did NOT want to admit that it was PPD, because that would mean seeking medical assistance. I felt like it was a cop out. Something about the whole situation made me feel weak, like I wasn’t strong enough to overcome life. I finally had what I wanted: two beautiful children that I was fortunate enough to stay home with. Why was I so angry all the time? Why did I cry so much?
My mother is the one who finally shook me into reality by saying I seemed so unhappy that it was making her sad. I was silent. And then I called my doctor. I am now medicated and feeling consistently cheerful for the first time in months. TWO finally started waking up just once a night the other week, so I’m feeling more rested. Suddenly, almost magically, life isn’t so damn HARD.
Medication isn’t an indefinite answer for me. I won’t take it for more than a few months. I went through a similar experience after ONE was born, but it wasn’t nearly as drastic as this has been. Every day I feel grateful to that bottle of pills. Judge if you must … but I haven’t cried in weeks. And believe me, I’ve had days that warranted tears.
I’m writing this because I know there are so many women who will understand it. I’m certainly no pill-popper, but when there is a need …
TAKE THE PILLS.
Now that we have that out of the way, I will go back to discussing fun and inappropriate things, like how my oldest son caught Husband and I in a “compromising situation” the other day. Let’s just say that you can lock the door and have a childproof apparatus on the outside of the knob, but if you fail to shut the door all the way, you may as well leave it wide open.