Ugh.
I have postpartum depression…. (again).
I will write when the meds kick in.
Otherwise just follow me on twitter. I can only handle 140 character semi-coherent thoughts at the moment.
No one knew this time (although Garrett was suspicious).
I am good at faking it.
Today was a bad day. Maybe tomorrow will be better.
Night Y’all.
First I’ll tell you what I don’t know. Other than what my DSM-IV TR says, and the notes I took in psychopathology, I know nothing of postpartum or how it can rear it’s ugly head in one’s life.
Now let me tell you what I do know. You are the greatest mother and one of the strongest women I know. The prospect of motherhood makes me want to quiver into a ball and pee myself, but your stories and tears and laughter mixed with your honesty and the unapologetic way you’re you regardless of the situation make me feel like motherhood could happen for me. And it might not be as scary as I think. And I may even be good at it and secretly desire it even though I’ll tell everyone around me there is NO WAY my lady bits will ever go through that. YOU ENCOURAGE ME. I check your blog every.day, eagerly awaiting new posts from Sadie and yourself so I can laugh and cry and laugh til I cry, and ponder the wonders of life, marriage, and motherhood. I eager wait to lap up the words of wisdom and uniqueness of life you and Sadie allow us to share.
I don’t know if there is anything I can do, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to help you, even if the only thing I can do is tell you I’ll help however I can.
I love you, you gorgeous woman! And if that doesn’t make you smile, this surely will-I still owe you two beers! = )
While I didn’t develop full-on PPD after having my third, I did have baby blues for a few weeks. It’s pretty overwhelming to adjust to three instead of two, and at any given point in time someone needs Mommy. “Sleep when the baby sleep” only works for that first baby, unless your older kids take naps when the baby’s napping, too. It’s tough, and you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. If a little pill makes the difference between managing and spiraling out of control, by all means take it. There’s no shame in not being June Cleaver. The 1950s had their time and place, but it’s well past its prime. Keep chugging along! ::big hugs::