So if you're not familiar with Josiah's Mommy over at http://myconfessionsasafirsttimemom.blogspot.com/ (sorry not clicky, mac) you should really go check her out. She posted an incredibly honest post about her experience with PPD and even though I was never diagnosed with PPD I can relate to her experience and was inspired to share my own.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The first three months of Isabella's life was the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. She was fussy, wouldn't sleep, and would have screaming fits. I honestly wanted to give her back. I questioned the reason I ever wanted to have kids. I missed the life I had with my husband. I missed sleep. I missed my friends. I missed watching television. I missed showering! I can honestly say that at that point I regretted having a baby to begin with. I never wanted to hurt her, I just didn't enjoy taking care of her and I swore I would never have another child.
Every night I would work myself into a frenzy of anxiety because I knew there would be no sleep. I would cry every single day because I felt so unprepared for the demands of motherhood. I was consumed with guilt. Guilt over not being able to exclusively breast feed. Guilt about not wanting to be around her. Guilt over wishing I was childless again. I loved her, I was just so overwhelmed. I felt like she deserved better.
When I went back to work things were getting better sleep wise, although she was still up at least twice a night. However, every night at 5 o'clock (the second I walked in the door) she would begin her screaming fits. I would cry in the car before I had to walk in the door. I would pray for traffic so I could miss the fits. I felt like a horrible mother.
The worst part was not being able to talk about it. I told my husband and my mother but they just kept telling me I needed to relax and that things would get better. They made me feel crazy, even though I know it was unintentional. Andy would share in my frustration but he didn't understand why I was so extreme. I could tell the crying bouts freaked him out. So many mothers had difficult kids, but were still enjoying motherhood. I wasn't. I probably should have mentioned something to my OB, but I was so ashamed. I thought she would think I didn't love my child. I did. I was just going through something very painful and profound.
Things are better now. We started her on a bed time routine. She's sleeping. I'm happy again. She's thriving. And I can't imagine my life without her chubby cheeks and gummy smile. Even when she has a bad day or a bad night or a screaming fit, I'm ok. I can handle it. I never thought I'd get to this point but the past month and a half has been some of the best times in my life. I guess it's always darkest before the dawn.
I'm hoping I won't get judged too badly for writing this post. I'm just hoping that people will understand.
Posted by Melissa G. at 2:09 PM