After baby..postpartum depression shows his ugly face.

After my son was released from the NICU I thought my life would go on as normal. Sure, I’m a new Mom and I will obviously be tired and helpless at times..ohhh, was I wrong. My son was so fussy and I had no idea what I was doing. I would call my partner while he was off working, I’d say we needed to change formula..maybe he’s colicky.. we spent hundreds of dollars on fancy formula and gripe water. But then I started feeling strange..I wasn’t bonding with my son. Atleast not the way you hear all these mother’s say..oh, when you have a baby your motherly intuition just kicks in…uh, no! Not this lady..maybe my baby wasn’t the problem..maybe he was just fine!! It was me!! It was me the whole time.. I hated being a mother..that is hard to say out loud. I love this baby boy. But truth be told, I was suffering. I would cry in the shower..when I was able to shower. I had highs and lows..but one thing was for sure…there was something going on inside my body. Have you ever witnessed a litter of puppies being born and the mother dog knows when one of her pups is sick and going to die..she will push the pup away..so the pup can not eat, until it just dies. I felt as if I was pushing my child away from me..like this isn’t my life. But I’m smart and I know I was fighting “postpartum depression”

Now during these first couple months I would become recluse, not return friends phone calls, miss weddings, birthdays, party’s and any event I was invited to..I would cut the world I once knew completely off.

I would try to sit down and ask my partner for help or try and explain.. I think I have p.p.d.. he would laugh and poke fun at how dramatic I was and how UNREAL that disease is.. so, I pushed all my feelings down deep, I pulled up my big girl panties and I wore a mask of fake pathetic happiness. I knew I was sick and I needed help, help now! But, I was alone on a ship of shit..not knowing how to fix it..years would pass..

Years pass and my anxiety rears it’s head, but in the most ugly hateful way..enough is enough. I researched doctors that specializes in anxiety.. made my first apt. Loaded my child into my car and drug his butt into that doctors office. I explained my history .. she gave me meds. I would slowly feel better..because the benzos would clear the panic. But just as I thought I would start to feel better…bammmmm anxiety hits the ground running, this time it’s coming for my soul.

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