Sunday, October 21, 2012

Life Lately

I am going to write this entry as honestly as I can.

I love my daughter. I really do. All I have ever wanted was a child. I have spent years of m adult life caring for children, and I whole heartily felt I was beyond prepared to parent. What a slap in the face having a newborn was. I was in no way prepared. I had all the things I needed to care for her. I had the bassinet, the room ready, all her cloth diapers that I was stock piling for months on end... But none of that took away my exhaustion, or the guilt I felt when I let my mother in law care for her in the middle of the night, because I was too weak to keep my eyes open. I missed my husband. I was starving. I was literally on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Somewhere between the spit up and the exhaustion, postpartum depression decided to show up and stay.

This is what I am dealing with. Constantly feeling anxious. Constantly feeling like I don't have it together. Constantly feeling like a failure. Constantly feeling as if I am alone and this human depends on me for every single thing to survive. I don't have a minute to myself. I don't have a minute to remind myself to eat, let alone make a decent bite. I had help the first two weeks I was home with her. I was getting anxiety daily, but I thought that it was because I was missing Kevin. I believe that most of my PPD stems from the fact that I am missing a huge piece of this puzzle. My husband. My other half. My partner. The only other constant thing in my life besides her. I was guilty for enjoying her. I didn't know how to enjoy her actually. Everyday was a struggle to get that bond that I wanted to be instantaneous. I would sit an cry looking at her perfect face, and wonder how I made such a perfect human and not know exactly what to do. I felt really fucking guilty to put it bluntly. I was told once I left the hospital I would get the baby blues. Baby Blues my ass. I got a whole truck load of blues and then some. Ive never been one to hate being alone. I actually like being alone. Not with a newborn baby apparently. I was in Virginia alone with a new baby and no friends or family. I was freaking out. I was thinking of how I would spend my days now that I had no one to talk to, no one to help me make dinner, no one to just pass the baby off to so I could take a shit. I broke down. I called every phone number I could. I met up with a lady at Panera and just cried. I dont think she said one word to me other than " its gonna be ok". When people tell me its gonna be okay, I really try to believe them. I hadnt eaten in a day or so, i hadnt been taking my vitamins, my daughter was sucking the life out of my tit. literally. It was raining that night I left Panera. I bought this mirror for the back of the car, you know, the one to watch your baby as you drive....Like this is a good idea for an anxious mother who is always thinking her baby is choking on her spit up. My baby starts to actually choke. I pull over frantic, and get her to breathe regularly. then she wants to eat. I feed her. I drive home. I call the Labor and Delivery line. I was told to go to the ER. I went, they gave me insane woman pills, and the next morning I was on a flight back to California to be with friends and family. Guys, I lost my shit.

After a plane ride to Atlanta, then a plane ride to LA, I was home. With my newborn baby. Two weeks old to the day. I felt better as soon as my feet hit California soil. Or concrete. My sisters were there to meet their niece, and I was ready to board the sleep train. I slept the whole ride home. I literally ate In n Out in my sleep, and I was so exhausted from traveling that I dont remember what It tasted like. It took me a few days to get adjusted to the new routine and time difference, but we did okay. I was advised to take Valium if I felt I needed it. I dont know why the stupid doctor gave me Valium knowing I am exclusively breastfeeding... So I had to find a natural solution. Ignatia Amara. Hallelujah. It works wonders people.

I started taking the Ignatia Amara and within hours I was feeling like myself again. I wasnt questioning my mothering skills, I wasnt feeling guilty about having someone watch my baby for a minute so I could wash my goat smell off my body, I wasnt guilty anymore. I didnt cry anymore for nothing, and I was just happy. Maybe it was the combination if family and friends smothering us with endless amounts of love, or the smell of the pacific ocean and driving down coast highway that was so comforting. My baby was happy, I was happy, my family was happy, life was good.

THEN. The day came when I had to go back home to Virginia. Back home to nothing but four walls and a furry cat. The anxiety started creepin. I knew the PPD was back. I dipped lower in emotion this time. I was told this would happen. It sucked. I didnt want to leave my happy place. My mother in law came over the night before and told me it wasnt an option for me to go back. I have a job back in Virginia. A good one at that. I didnt want to let anyone down, and if I didnt come back, Id let my boss down. I have always been this way. Thinking about work before everything else. My mother in law basically broke it down for me. It would not be healthy for me or my baby to go back to sit and cry, depressed in my home w, oith no friends or family to be able to rescue me if I needed it. I have one priority in life, that trumps all. My daughter. She comes before any job, or any other materiallistic thing I can think of. It hit me like a freight train. I am a mother now. My job is to protect my child and care for her above all else. For me to base my decision to go home off the fact that another mother needed me to care for her child was insane. I need to care for my own child. In order to care for her, I need to care for myself. She is nothing without me. At this point in time, I felt that bond instantly. It took a whole three weeks for me to feel like I was doing it right. It took me three weeks to finally realize that this is my life now. Her life before mine. No matter what.

So I stayed.
I still have a job. My boss is a mother. She understood.
She is a Doctor. She understands PPD. She gets it. She wants me to get help and be healthy.

My plane ticket was changed. I didnt pay more than 5 dollars to change my flight to a day before Kevin gets home.
My cat is being taken care of. By our wonderful neighbor Tim.

Everything is working out, and I can breathe again.

Everyday is a struggle to fight these emotions. I am not afraid or ashamed to admit I suffer from PPD.

Thank you for reading.

xoxo Jess.

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