Of course I’m sobbing as I write this, because every time I admit this I cry. That picture was taken at 10:04am on the Tuesday morning that I decided I loved my baby. Malcolm was nearly 7 months old in this picture. It’s now becoming part of the conversation, but what no one used to warn Mothers about was that the immediate love for being a mother doesn’t always flood over you like every book/movie/tv show depicts. There were no rainbows, flowers, sunbeams shining all over our new normal making it feel natural and calming. It was a messy and challenging, tiring and stressful, unhappy and resentful time in my life. I don’t look back at pictures from this time and miss one bit of it and that will forever cut me to the core. It feels terrible to wonder if Malcolm and I will forever have a gap in connectivity because we had a gap during a time when bonding is so crucial. Nothing angers me more than what the PPD+A does to a woman during such a vital transition. I had no history of depression, so much support, all of the resources you could imagine, and I still suffered. Rather than suggesting ways we can set ourselves up to avoid it, I really believe we need to continue the conversation and removing the stigma around it. Maternal Mental Health is something that needs more focus, even ongoing! Postpartum Depression and Anxiety can come at anytime. The more we share experiences and learn more about finding our balance in the midst of the mess, the less isolating it will be. I’m over the “why me?” anger that I used to feel, because I’m not sure I’d be where I am today without it. I saw the other side when some women do not. If I can be a resource or support to any woman experiencing such a debilitating illness, I’ll take my experience for what it was. 💜
