The first few weeks after M was born, I thought I was incredibly lucky. Aside from the normal baby blues, I was feeling okay. With a history of depression, I knew I was at a higher risk for PPD, but it seemed as if I'd dodged a bullet. Sure, there was a bit of transition going on, and we were learning from each other how to become this new family, but in general, I felt fine. I think I even took joy in moments with her and came to appreciate the four weeks J was able to take and be with us.
I don't remember an exact moment when I realized it wasn't okay. I'm not sure if the PPD was triggered by something or if the family drama or major work issues just coincided by chance, but things were not good. I am not even sure I can explain the feelings - many of them were just too deep, dark, and horrible to even talk about without feeling like I am giving in to melodrama. And it wasn't all bad. There were moments and stretches of time during which it seemed, upon reflection, that the bad stuff wasn't nearly as bad as it felt or as frequent as it seemed. But it was. I've always had a difficult time seeing things clearly, but J is always there to serve in part as a mirror for myself. He has been a saint through all of it, and even though I'm sure it was frustrating being with this shadow of a person, he never gave up on me (even if he did throw his hands up in frustration at times).
I finally got to a point where I was able to acknowledge that things were just wrong. To top it off, it was on a day where I was going to try to meet up with some friends, but in the end, I needed to just take care of myself, even if I felt guilty for flaking out on them yet again. J met me at the doctor's office, and I started the process.
I've now been on meds for 6 weeks, had the dosage increased once, and I feel like I'm just now starting to see a slight difference. Slight = fewer absolutely horrible days. This weekend's been tough. M's been sick, and that has just destroyed me. Today started out okay, but by mid-afternoon, I just felt dragged down by it again. I've been thinking about writing this blog post for a few days today, mostly to just get some of the feelings out on "paper." I was hoping it would be cathartic, and I guess maybe it has been. Very few people know about all of this, and I feel horrible that some of them have born the brunt of my misery, but their reassurances have been helpful.
Just going to continue to take it a day at a time and try to find joy in those baby smiles.
One day, one hour at a time. Baby steps, if you will (pardon the pun). You've got to take care of yourself, it's most important. You can't take care of others if you're not well. *hugs*
ReplyDelete(I can't remember what your schedule is, but S and I are going to the science center on wed if you're free/up to it.)
And here I was just thinking about deleting this post... thanks for commenting, N.
ReplyDeleteI work Sunday through Thursday, with varying start times each day. Wednesday is normally a 9-5 type of day, although we'll have to see how M is feeling and if I can take her to day care. Thanks for the invite - I feel awful that I haven't seen you guys, and I feel worse for missing Izzy's party on Saturday.
Don't delete the post - it's the truth, and that's important. Parenting is not all sunshine and unicorns, and I think that when we as a society portray it as such, we do a disservice to future parents.
ReplyDeleteI've missed you, but if you're ever free when I am, give a shout. (I'm free Tues/Thurs until ~noon, all day Monday & Wednesday. I work until 1 on Sundays and don't work on Saturdays, but we tend not to do a whole lot on them, since it's my only day with J AND n.)
I admire your strength. Take it one day at a time. :)
ReplyDelete