Lifting the stigma.

Let's talk about postpartum depression.

On average about 15% of women will suffer from PPD that rounds out to approximately 950,00 women a year.
NINE HUNDRED FIFTY THOUSAND!
And to top that off that is only the reported cases, so that number doesn't include the women that never spoke up about their troubles.
Today I'm going to speak up about mine.
When I had my son I was fortunate enough to be one of those people that felt the overwhelming love right away when I met him and I had a relatively easy recovery. We had a wonderful breastfeeding relationship from the start and my husband was supportive through it all.
When I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, my son was only 8 months old.
I had an easy pregnancy but I had a hard time coping with the guilt I felt of taking the short time of being an only child from my son, the heart wrenching guilt of not feeling excited about another baby. We hadn't planned on having children so close in age and I was scared and sad for my boy to be a big brother so soon when he was still so little himself.

As my pregnancy progressed I felt more excited however still guilty.
And now that she's here we are so glad to have her and feel so lucky that she chose us to be her family, and watching my son be a sweet and gentle big brother is an incredible thing but I still have this guilt. But now my guilt is because I feel like an inadequate mother. How can I love these two babies the way they deserve when they each need something at the same time? How can I give them everything they need when I only have two arms and when a majority of the time I feel so anxious I can't leave the house? These are things people don't talk about, they ask constantly "you must be so excited!?" And "are you ready?" But they aren't prepared for the truth. The truth is hard to admit, so we always answer with what we think we should say about feeling excited and ready.

Everyday I work on leaving the house a little longer or going a little bit further because I refuse to be crippled by my anxiety as I once was.
I've been there, done that. Years of my life taken from me by debilataing anxiety.
It sucks, it hurts but I won't let it hurt my babies. I won't let my anxiety keep them from the sunshine and fresh air. I won't let my fear keep my pantry empty, (but I will use Walmart free grocery pickup because c'mon grocery shopping alone is shitty and doing it with two babies is damn near impossible)
I will speak up about PPD and anxiety.
I will not be alone in this fight. We will talk about this and overcome.

 Today I write about this because I took my son to the park.
Only 4 miles from our home and it was excruciating. Packing the diaper bag and the water bottles and the shoes and the change of clothes and the blankets and unloading the stroller that weighs 100lbs, strapping in a toddler that hates to be strapped in and a newborn who hates the wrap (what kind of baby hates koala care???)
I never thought that in a park surrounded by women and children, I would feel so isolated and alone.
I couldn't reach out to these women, and none of them reached out to me even though we were all there doing the same thing. I felt inferior because of how hard it was for me to get out of the house. I felt awkward and out of place. I felt so incredibly alone. Alone in the park, alone in my struggles and alone in my life.
All of us with our children and green Starbucks cups. (Which ironically enough are about bringing people together) and I couldn't just say hello and chat. I couldn't bring myself to look up from my feet to make eye contact. There was no small talk about the wonderful change in weather or how old our kids were.
They were all in groups, each had at least one person they were talking with, but not me.
The only interaction I had was with a woman apologizing for her daughter taking Silas' cup.  The rest of the time I was silent. Drinking my PSL and stuck in my own head thinking I wasn't supposed
to be there.
I cried on my way home, unsure of how to tell my husband how I felt, unsure if I should call my midwife to make an appointment for my PPD before my 6-8 week check up or just wait it out, feeling so unsure of myself and my ability to be the mother my children need me to be.
This experience has pushed me to open up about how I feel, about how hard it has been for me to transition from one baby to two and how grateful I am for the wonderful friends I've made since moving to TN (Michele and Candice I'm looking at you ladies)
Through all of this I have a support system. Even though I haven't expressed to them the way I feel, just simply being a friend has been the biggest help and I will be forever thankful for that.

In conclusion I want to say that I love my babies, I am establishing what I believe will be a long and wonderful nursing relationship with my daughter, I love seeing my son love on his sister and my husband step into an even bigger dad roll. I feel so many overwhelming emotions from day to day and even the good ones can take a toll. It's exhausting to love so hard sometimes.
From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to bed my world revolves around 3 other people's needs before my own. Being a mom is hard work and working through anxiety is hard and it's even harder to do both simultaneously.
So today I reach out to you, if you're struggling and need a friend I will be a shoulder to cry on and an ear to vent in if you ever find you need me.
The phrase "it takes a village" has come to be truer than I've ever known before.
I will be your village, if you'll be mine.

You.are.not.alone.
I.am.not.alone.