Sunday, August 29, 2010

My truth about PPD

There is always that moment when I open my eyes for the first time in the morning and think - oh man, here we go again - the noise, the arguments, the feeding and changing and changing and feeding. It feels like a tsunami, totally overwhelming.

I usually sigh.

Then I make myself think of my boy and how the little monkey has a particular expression that makes me laugh no matter how crappy I feel. I make myself think of my girls cheeks and cute legs and long hands and how she sits like a basketball player and I smile a deep warm smile.

I usually sigh again, this time a sigh of anticipation. Another day learning from my kids and spending moments gazing at them, cuddling them, stroking their skin that is so soft it amazes me, watching them learn something, find something, see something for the first time. Wait for them to grab on to my thumb or put a hand on my cheek.

This is key to getting me out of bed and moving through those first moments of the day.

During the day, I experience the two polar emotions simultaneously. From one I am more than happy. From the other I am lost and hopeless. Neither emotion wins out completely they just trundle along like two notes played ever so quietly but that clash horribly. Sometimes I feel the supreme & delicate harmonies through all the discordance other moments are cacophony, chaos.

That is my experience of post partum depression.


  1. Love, there is no gentle way to say this: the dichotomy continues. The joy, the dread. Poop that has seeped up to the elbows waiting to be cleaned. A giggle that lights up the universe. A scream that means "Mommy, no more sleep for you this morning." A face you want to kiss a trillion times - today. On and on, back and forth, bags under the eyes, sacrifices galore, love beyond measure. All of it. And then some. This IS mommyhood.

  2. Oh wow - that is exactly how I feel. The changing, the feeding, the crying, the soothing. At the same time, the smiles, the coos, the wondrous eyes.... it's wonderful and exhausting. I guess that's why motherhood is called 'the hardest job you'll ever love.'

    Much love to you mama.