Curiosonari

I have recently & successfully escaped a dark cloud called Postpartum Depression. It comes in many levels starting with the Baby Blues. But these terms don’t really mean a whole lot, so let me try giving this a better name. This should really be called “OMG! What have I done??!” syndrome.

Nothing prepares you for motherhood. You can read all the books, take advice and enroll in classes but none of this really gets you ready. What they should offer is a bootcamp. Something rigorous like the astronauts go through when they are trained to sleep even though the sun is rising and falling every few minutes for them. In this case, your new bundle of joy is rising and falling every few hours, except you are busy taking care of her for about 1 hour of that time. Sleep deprivation becomes a way of life which is a real shock to the system, especially if you are the type that needs 8 hours of sleep.

All I could do was fantasize that I might be able to disappear when Emma would cry. It got so bad that I would get the cold sweats and almost pass out. The baby blues is supposed to last the first 2 weeks after pregnancy but mine didn’t kick in till the start of week 3. That’s when I lost my appetite and had constant diarreah. So then my milk started to wain. Then my self-esteem took a plunge and I could only dwell on what an awful mother I was and it was lucky for Emma that she had such a doting dad. Our house would have completely fallen apart if it hadn’t been for my loving, understanding and very supportive husband. I’m indeed very blessed.

But horrible thoughts crossed my mind that I learned are completely normal. Although I loved Emma, I wished that she was back in my belly…or perhaps she would just disappear for a day or so. I wanted to run and hide from this overwhelming responsibility. “I’m a professional, not someone’s constant slave!” I would think to myself. If I was able to eat, as soon as I realized Emma was still there I’d get nauseaus.

So then my mother came to stay with us and help out. She ooo’d and awed over Emma and then asked me with great joy, “Does it seem real?!” I looked at her in a daze and simply said “Yes.” In fact, it was a little too real. Over the next fews days she would exclaim how precious and sweet she was and I would search to find it.

But thanks to my mother and my constantly supportive husband, I was able to get some sleep and eat and that has made all the difference. I love my baby and I’m beginning to learn more about her as a person. I’m starting to enjoy her. My husband and I are learning to strike a balance with our lives. We have a ways to go but we are definitely on the right track. And Emma is an important part of both our lives.

I no longer want to run and hide. I no longer wish she’d disappear. And I no longer think I’d win the award for World’s Worst Mom. I’m just doing my best and making some time for myself so that I can truly appreciate the time I spend with my sweet Emma.

For help with Postpartum Depression, please check out this site.

- Shannon

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 31st, 2007 at 7:57 am and is filed under Mother's Corner. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.