In this post I will attempt to write coherently about the
feelings that I have been having the last couple of weeks. This is not an easy
topic, but I feel that there may be some other moms out there that are having
these same feelings and who might benefit from reading my words. So here it is…
One thing that I never worried about when I was pregnant was
post-partum depression. I was so in love with the baby inside my tummy and with
the idea of being her mommy that I never considered for a second that I would
have glimpses of depression. Since I gave birth and have been around a lot of
other moms with young children, I have learned that depression can come in all
shapes and sizes. It can be mild or full blown. It can be constant, or it can
be recurring. However it comes, I have found that we all have moments where we
fight the darkness. I truly believe that. I don’t consider the things I experience
to be true depression, but I do see how that line starts to blur for some
mommies. I consider depression to be a serious illness. I do not claim to
understand it fully—or that I am experiencing it.
I planned carefully for P. I was strong in my philosophies.
When she was born I controlled every second of her day into a finely tuned
routine. She was a great baby. She slept when she was supposed to, and she ate
when she was supposed to. THEN—she started to change. The new P doesn’t really
eat…ANYTHING. She went from taking 30 ounces in 12 hours and sleeping through
the night to taking 13-15 ounces and then waking a few times during the night.
Some nights she eats and some she just screams. It was around this time that I
felt the darkness creep in.
It was brought on by feelings of inadequacy. I felt and
continue to feel like a failure because
I couldn’t figure out how to make her happy. I have tried everything and she
just continues to take less and less milk. Her solid intake has increased but
she still won’t take any veggies unless they are mixed with a lot of fruit. Her
sleep became unpredictable and she became more and more demanding during the
day.
Couple all of thee above with starting back to work and my
husband going back to work and you have a strong cocktail for that darkness I
am referring to. What I mean by darkness is this overwhelmed feeling and the
feeling that I cannot control my mood or emotions. I feel overwhelmed a lot
now. I get frustrated quickly. I am easily irritated and I get angry a lot. I
don’t want to go out—take a shower—or take care of myself at times. I don’t
want to do –anything, except sleep. I love to sleep. I have heard that this is
a symptom of depression, however it is also a symptom of being a mother of a
child under one.
I cry a lot more now than I did in the first days and weeks
after P was born. When P slaps the spoon out of my hand for the millionth time
sending pears flying—I feel the frustration build. Sometimes I have to walk
away—I have to scream in the bathroom or into a pillow. I don’t know why but it
just frustrates me so much. I have never been quick to anger. I have always
been able to weather the storm calmly and rationally.
Feeling like you cannot control your moods or emotions is no
laughing matter. It too can make you feel like a failure. You just feel out of
whack and blah all the time.
Then there are the moments of clarity. When P is in a really
good mood and she is giggling incessantly—I think about how lucky I am to have
her. How I am her whole world and I have the chance to mold her into this
really awesome person. Then I feel the happiness well up in my eyes. Highs and
lows from one minute to the next. That is what motherhood has become for me—and
for a lot of you I’d be willing to bet.
So what I want to say to myself and to all of you who have
these same feelings is that you are not alone. You are not a bad mom for
needing to scream in the shower or into a pillow. It does not mean that you
love your child any less. It is just a left over side effect of your hormones
or sleep deprivation. It is not what defines you.
What does define you are those amazing moments when you are
the one that puts a smile on your baby’s face. When you make her/him giggle
like crazy. When you walk into a room and they light up. That means you are
doing something right. That little human—you made them. You will continue to
make them—mold them—create them into a compassionate person. You deserve credit
for that. It is not an easy job, and you are allowed to have a few blips and
bumps along the way. We have to forgive ourselves for not being perfect.
I am learning to let go of the restlessness that I am
feeling. I am learning to cut myself some slack, and to not measure myself up
against all the other moms around me who seem to have it all together. I choose
to believe that they lock themselves in the bathroom, eat cookie dough for
breakfast, don’t shower for three days, etc.
So, in conclusion, on days like today—when P has taken 5
ounces and a half a cup of yogurt by 12:00, and I pretty much know it will be
another day of fighting for every ounce and then up every two hours at night—I am
going to drink a big cup of hot coffee and eat my cookie dough with a smile
knowing that somewhere out there, you are too! Cheers ladies!
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