I said it. Out loud.
Let's say it together - Postpartum depression sucks ass. Big time.
The best part...?
Despite all of the books, all of the news stories, the blogs, the tweets, the people who care... it is still a taboo subject matter. It is still a topic that is over looked, denied and often ignored. It is also the # 1 complication of childbirth is depression.
Even those *cough me* who know the symptoms can deny it, even when faced with sadness and hopelessness in their own life. The sense of being overwhelmed by everything. Absolutely everything. sigh.
It is funny how we are so prepared for the pregnancy; the sickness and tiredness that goes with it. We eat right and take vitamins to insure the baby's healthy, some of us even exercise. We stock the nursery and baby proof the house in preparation for our little one's arrival. We buy things and borrow things. We cook in advance and clean and worry how the new addition will affect their soon to be siblings. We read about breastfeeding and formula and fret over which is best. We worry and agonize over every little detail but what do we do for ourselves? How do we get ready for the rush of hormones and then the loss of them? Our bodies are flooded with extra everything and when it is over how do we prepare to cope when it is over?
If you are like me - nothing. Women have been doing this since the beginning of time. I am not going to be affected. I have a great support system. I know the symptoms from the last time. This time will be different...
And, still, I was trapped by my own denial. What made me see the light? We moved. I was so overwhelmed with everything that the first to go was cleaning. The second... everything else.
Looking back, I struggled to even leave the house. I blamed it on the baby. She took up so much of my time. She always wanted to nurse and be held. The Husband is always at work. It is too hot or too cold. While all of these are or where true - I had forgotten to take a breath and see what was going on around me.
Then we moved and I think it saved my life, so to speak. It made me see what I had not seen and admit that I was not coping. I was overwhelmed.
We do not have a dishwasher in our new home. For the first time in five years, I have to physically do dishes and I love it. I love the ritual. The time to myself to think or not think. The sound of the water running, the smell of the soap and the accomplishment I feel after completing this task. It is so simple and, yet, cathartic. Just me and the dish water.
Baby girl has started to join in my daily ritual. She sits on the counter top and "helps." Sometimes I would prefer she doesn't but most of the time I cherish our moments together. It won't be long before she hates me for making her wash the dishes or worse - she is running off to be with her friends.
I am going to be okay.
I am not alone.
We are not alone.
And, my house has never been cleaner, especially the kitchen.
This is not a sponsored post for Postpartum Support International but they have many Tools for Mom and a section to Get Help that helped me.