Strong Start Day

Did you know that October 5 is big baby day? Not like ginormica babies, but the day that more babies are born than any other. Kate Winslet was born today and so was my cousin, Marcia. That's a lot of people getting busy while welcoming in the new year, every year. Heh.  It's also Strong Start Day.

With all that in mind there will be many women giving birth today. Days, weeks or months from now they may enter into a truly dark, hard part in their lives known as Postpartum Depression. It won't be just them that deals with symptoms and fallout of PPD but their children and significant others as well. They all deserve a strong start.  I know for me, both my bouts with PPD caused a massive strain on our marriage. It came with me to work, made me feel homicidal at times, want to live in my crawl space and cry while showering or drying my hair on other days. At some point I found Katherine and her website Postpartum Progress. It wasn't that I thought I was totally alone with my PPD but I needed her and Postpartum Progresses knowledge, resources and support.  

Years later, I proudly call Katherine a friend. If you ever meet her in person you will be amazed at her energy and grace. She glows. She has such a caring aura that exudes through Postpartum Progress. It is truly her passion.  Now she needs my help with keeping Postpartum Progress going and reaching higher and more women and families. I am only too happy to help a woman who checked in on me periodically after my third pregnancy just to make sure I was not spiraling down again. She needs your help too! Give someone else a Strong Start today! 

The Comedian refused to sit for this photo.

You can donate in my honor or someone else you know and care about. Whatever you can is perfect. Only 15% of all women with perinatal mood and anxiety disorders receive the help they need when it comes to postpartum depression. What does that really mean? That means that hundreds of thousands of women, their spouses and children will suffer from the negative effects from PPD and other related illnesses for the rest.of.their.lives. Do your good deed and help support Postpartum Progress, an incredibly worthy group. It has helped me and my family many times over.

Driving Your Car Into a River Does Not Make You Crazy

Lashanda Armstrong drove her four kids into the Hudson river last week, drowning herself and all but one child. Andrea Yates killed her children by drowning them in the bathtub. She thought they were possessed by demons. Banita Jacks killed her daughters last year and then lived for months with their decomposing bodies in her home. Are these women mentally disturbed or is something else going on?


As I listened to 'Tell Me More', during my car ride down south, I was riveted by the topic that we women, mothers mainly, need to open up more and speak out about these feelings that are sometimes so dark and towards our children.





Going beyond two rounds of postpartum depression I can fully admit to having moments where as a mother I just wanted to run for the hills. Where I find myself standing in a room, hands over my ears, biting my lip to keep from screaming and squeezing my eyes shut tight. The tornado of chaos that multiple children can bring can almost be too much to bear. When you add in sleep deprivation over long periods of time, daily stressors and possibly financial stress or marital woes you have yourself a lovely Molotov cocktail that is continuously being lobbed at your mental and emotional state. One more spilled cup of milk or hair pulling incident is just going to send you right over the edge. It certainly feels that way at the time.


Some women grab a drink. Some grab a pill. Others exercise. Some call a friend or even a sitter. But what if you can't do any of those things? What if you don't know anyone in your area? What of you have no resources or finances to get out or hire a sitter? What do you do? You suck it up. You swallow that panic. The rage and darkness turns inward and your mind becomes a swampy soup of swirling thoughts that never stop their vicious cycle. You want out. You regret your kids. You can't do it all. You just have to leave. Or worse.


As a mother, I know this. I have felt many of those feelings. While I never have wanted to harm my kids I can totally understand how you can get to that point. The cause isn't mental illness either. It's sheer normalcy. These situations can be like being in battle. You react to these abnormal (to an adult) situations like coloring the baby with glue and markers or mashing blueberries into the sofa in the most normal way you know how. For me, I find talking to a my friends, my family and my shrink can be extremely helpful. Except when the shrink says I should hire a nanny. Really? You think that wouldn't solve some of my problems if I could afford it? Hm.. Maybe if I stop paying the shrink....

When we were deep in the mires of TD's tantrums I know I felt half-alive. I felt half-crazy most days and like a failure as her mother. There was something she needed that I couldn't give and I didn't know what that thing was. The idea of calling someone like TD's pediatrician made me panic-stricken. What if they wanted to take her away from me? When I did finally pick up the phone and call her doctor in a sobbing, hiccuping mess all I found was relief. We were given the tools and resources we needed to work through the situation and find a way to reach TD and break the tantrum cycle. Instead of fear there is now just relief because I talked. I stopped fearing so much.

Maybe if we stop judging other women as mothers so much we could feel accepted and have the ability to open up more. Maybe if we stopped talking about what is deemed normal and what is supposedly 'crazy talk' women wouldn't be so afraid to talk to their doctors and friends and family. Maybe this post will help someone to not feel so alone.

A D-MER Survivor Speaks

I don't often venture into the arena of breast-feeding.  It's a twisted, hugely opinionated topic that has many pieces to it.  To me the topic itself is a largely personal issue that I don't think can be labeled as just either "Feeders" and "Non-Feeders".  I have nursed all three of my children, but differently each time and for differing reasons with each child as well.  It's like those ubiquitous Facebook descriptions for a wide array of relationship statuses that can only be labeled as, "It's Complicated".  I don't like to openly go on and on on regarding my feelings towards breast-feeding precisely for these reasons- it's complicated and personal for each and every mother/child combination. I don't expect anyone else to agree or understand the complexities on my decisions.

When I read about D-MER on Babble though, I had to speak up.  What the heck is what?  I know.  Another syndrome?  OY.  But, I read about Dysphoric Milk Ejection Reflex I knew it was something I could relate to.  I had it with TD and yet it didn't have a name and no one had ever mentioned it to me. The extreme sense of sadness I felt each time I nursed her I had previously just lumped in with my post partum depression.  Yet, that actually came later.  That earlier sadness, guilt, agitation and emptiness- that only occurred while I nursed and EVERY TIME I nursed was D-MER.  Five years later I learn about it and I'm extremely grateful it can be explained.  It is a relief to know that something I still feel guilt over has a reason. 

The absence of the bonding I had heard so much about and yearned for while breastfeeding TD never happened.  I knew it existed though because I later felt it deeply with The Comedian and now with The Fifth Element.  That lost time is something I know I can never get back but have really felt an extreme sense of sadness and guilt over for quite some time.  I hate it.  I wanted it gone for so long and I tore myself up internally with the last two kids because I never experienced it with my first.  It made me feel awful for her that we never got to share that particular type of mother/child bonding while we had the chance.  When the PPD swooped in a few months later pushing  me into a darker fog altogether I just thought it was part of it.  Now, gladly, I know different and can begin to let go of that old, ugly guilt and be free. 


For more information on D-MER visit D-MER.org 

The Wonders of Sleep

I'm nice right now.  And um, still a teensy bit brain dead.  I have good days and bad days and in the past two weeks more bad than good.  When I realized this my little PPD nerve center went on alert and I found myself standing in the middle of a room wondering if this was the other shoe dropping.  Was postpartum depression going to hit me again a third time?  The very thought of it made me weepy.  Then angry.  Then yup, you guessed it. Weepy again.

I wanted to crawl under the covers and hibernate. I felt twitchy and snappy evil.  My eyes may or may not have glowed red once or twice.  I wanted to talk to someone, anyone about this, but then no one at all.  Call it a case of being sick of dealing with this type of shit.  The third time would not be the charm.  Then an interesting thing happened.

I went away for work.  I packed the three girls up and took a little trip with them that made me feel capable again and I got my first decent night's sleep in weeks.  The fact that I knew that I didn't have to hear The Fifth Element cry at 'o dark thirty' relaxed me and lulled me into a deep sleep.  I still woke up with the other kids but just knowing in the back of my brain that I wouldn't hear her because she was in my parents room and not just down the hall from me was huge.  I slept.  Then I slept again another night.  It's no wonder PPD can be brought on by a lack of sleep.  After just two days I feel as if I am out of the fog and I can think again.  I still feel tired but maybe another night will do me good.  I'm glad I have the chance. 

Thanks, Mom & Dad for watching the girls while I work and making it possible for me to get back on track.  It means so much to me and all of us.  I love you.  We are so blessed.

That Whole Depression Thing

"So how is that whole depression thing going?"  H asked this question a few weeks back regarding my past bouts with postpartum depression.  Let's not quibble on his delivery of that line.  Moving on... The Fifth Element has reached the six-week mark and I'm happy to report so far so good.  Except.

Well, except the fact that in the past PPD hasn't nailed me against its dark, stained wall until about the two month mark.  With TD it was shortly after I went back to work and she was eight weeks old. The schedule, the commute, the lack of sleep all contributed to it.  I thought I missed it with The Comedian and then month two came up and BAM! There I was again back in its black hole.  Blech.  As I said last week on TheMotherhood's postpartum discussion, I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

I am in week three of training for my next 5k. I have lots of help and I am getting more sleep than most this time around. I'm dutifully taking my Celexa, my drug of choice with The Comedian and with The Fifth Element.  So we'll see.  All of this is supposed to help and I hope it does and the third time really is the charm. 

And if you haven't noticed already I was named one of the Top PPD bloggers (see right sidebar) this year by the Medical Assistants Association.  I am honored and touched more than I can say.  Thank you!

Live Chat on PPD Tomorrow (9/29) at TheMotherhood.com

I'll be hosting a live chat tomorrow at 1 p.m. EST with Katherine Stone of Post Partum Progress (the number PPD blog!) and Dr. Shoshanna Bennett at The Motherhood.com. Join us and several others in a lively and supportive discussion about any PPD related issues and other mental illnesses that occur around pregnancy and childbirth. Please come join in!

What is The Motherhood? It is a great place for women and mothers that is organized around Circles and Talks based on the idea that we are all "in this together", which is exactly how I feel about PPD.  Circles are on-going conversations started by members on any and all topics. Join the circles that interest you, and if you don’t see what you’re looking for, start one! Talks are scheduled, live conversations that last a day with expert hosts on topics recommended by members. Check it out before Wednesday and be sure to register for the site so you can take part in the chat.

Hope to see you there!! I am really excited to be part of this group and get the word out about PPD.

Back on the Couch

That title can be viewed two ways. Literally.

I went back to see my psychiatrist yesterday for the first time since mid-2009.  Apparently once you have had postpartum depression two times you are "red-flagged" in the system and a social worker visits you while you are still in the hospital nursing and wearing mesh undies.  That and they give you back your meds about thirty minutes after you push that new baby out.  It is a month after The Fifth Element's arrival and I need a new script so it was back on the psych's couch for me.  Aside from being tired I feel pretty good.

I'm also back on the Couch to 5k program. I went for my first run on Sunday and it was glorious.  I felt stiff, a bit wobbly and tense at first, but it was fantastic to be out in the cool morning air.  I ran longer than I needed to and that motivated me to get back out there for day two of the training today.  I tacked on another minute of running. I am beyond week one and two of this program which makes me pretty freakin' happy.  I have ten pounds of baby weight to shed and I want to run a 10k in December with this guy again.  I was just beginning to toy with the idea of running a full marathon next fall when I spied a 140.6 sticker on the back of an SUV this morning and thought, "Land's sake! People really do that?!" Makes 26.2 look like a pound of cube steak sitting next to a cut of Delmonico.   Geez. 

But whatever, I'm back on the couch and happy to be there.

Where's Mummy

Top o' the Mornin' to you!  It's Monday, the start of a new week and besides my shrink's office (got to keep up the preventative PPD script!) this is where I am at this week.

TODAY!!!! I am honored to be co-hosting a new moms baby shower at TheMotherhood.com.  Join me for advice and information from Avent too! Noon EST or 9 a.m. for all you PST'ers.

At MPR there are reviews galore- REphase Bio-Scrub, The Tassimo T20 Home Brewing System and Natural Vines Licorice.

honestbaby has me talking about my need for an ugly playdate.

Have a good one!

The Deep End

We had incredible storms here yesterday and it seems to have broken this oppressive heat wave the DC Metro area has been baking in.  My emotions in the past few weeks have been brewing up like this storm and yesterday, of all days, was the day it all just came thundering in, full of tornadoes, crying storms and tales of hysteria. 

For the last few weeks I've been consistently telling each OB or midwife and nurse that I see that while I might seem healthy in the vitals department I was clearly not doing well emotionally.  It was beginning to scare me too. I have had post-partum depression twice now and I didn't like that I was feeling that way already and I hadn't even birthed this kid yet.  I felt like a walking "Danger Zone!" sign complete with blinking lights.  Yet, no one was listening. 

On Monday after a restful visit to the Big Apple. Yes, really, it was restful.  I had my 38 week check-up.  A.K.A. the day that I was supposed to get my induction date.  The doctor who saw me said, "I don't check.  We're not going that route."  I think white flames began to shoot from my head.  Little neurons backfired as I absorbed this information. I wasn't even going to be told if I was making progress?  I just walked all over New York for goodness sakes hoping that something would happen!  I got a bit teary and pissy and went home.  Screw them. I'm going to walk this kid out of me.  Heat wave be damned!  So I tried.  I walked until I was exhausted, pushing both girls in the double stroller. I walked all over the place for days. I cleaned and tackled major projects. When I couldn't sleep in the middle of the night (every night) I paced the house.  Contractions were often but nothing was happening.  Patience was running thin and I was feeling so overtired that the idea of anyone even talking to me or me having to talk to them sent me over the edge.  That nasty dark feeling was creeping in.  By Thursday morning when my appointment with the specialist who checks my placenta dawned I was a sobbing mess.  I cried during the whole appointment those ugly, swollen-faced tears.  I had to stick myself in a bathroom stall afterwards to try and get some control. Despite the nurse and Sonogram tech telling the doctor I was clearly not doing well, I was patted on the head and told to get some sleep and stay out of the heat.

Um... yeah.  SLEEP WOULD BE FANTASTIC IF IT WOULD HAPPEN!!!  So would eating if it didn't make me gag or feel like puking afterwards.  I haven't gained weight in almost a month. That never happened with the other two pregnancies.  Why does no one hear me when I tell them that? 

From the bathroom stall I texted a friend feeling mortified I had lost all control.  I sobbed to her in my car about how bad of a mother I feel I have become and here I am supposed to be welcoming another child into the world.  I had officially cracked.  When I got home later that morning I immediately called my midwife's office.  The receptionist could hear my pain and hysteria.  She held me on the line and asked if she could just sit there on the phone with me for a while even after she booked my appointment.  That just made me cry harder.  Obviously my hormones are so amped up right now and combined with all the sleeplessness I've gone a bit off the deep end.  Thankfully, my friend had the girls and told me she would keep them until I had my midwife appointment later that afternoon.

It was a relief to arrive at that appointment and see a friendly, familiar nurse who I have always loved.  Seeing a new midwife who had no knowledge of my past pregnancies helped too.  I cried again, feeling ridiculous.  When we began to go down the road of "Let's get you some sleep aids, have a high protein breakfast and make sure you are resting..." All feeling left my voice.  I said in a flattened tone, "No.  No. No, I will not go on anti-depressants that won't start working until a few weeks from now. I will not take an anti-anxiety medication for when I feel anxious because it won't help.  I need to know if I am making progress. I need to be checked.  I need to know that this baby is coming and I am not left hanging out there. I need my induction date and for someone to hear me and that is all. IT.IS.IN. MY. CHART." 

High protein breakfast?  YOU WANT ME TO DRINK A SMOOTHIE? WTF? I'm hypo-glycemic that's my life, lady.  I'm high protein all the time.  "Cash in my chips?  Ask my spouse to stop working so he can deal with the kids?!" WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?! 

So she checked me.  I'm almost there.  Today, the hospital called.  Induction is scheduled for next week.  That fading placenta only has a few more days to keep chugging along.  Last night I took an ambien to help me sleep and it worked.  I feel a bit more sane today but I think I need a few days of silence and rest before this all amps up again next week.  And possibly a high protein breakfast.  Heh. 

It's A Mother's Day Rally!

Happy Mother's Day to you and yours!  I and a host of other amazing women authors and bloggers were chosen to be part of the 2nd Annual Mother's Day Rally.  Every hour for 24 hours a letter is posted regarding Post Partum Depression- it's symptoms, surivors stories, doctors help and more.  Check them all out .  It's inspiring and simply amazing. 

I'm in the 8 a.m. slot titled, "Let the Third Time Be the Charm." 

I just can't get over the fact that I was asked to be a part of this phenomenal group of women.  Go! Read! Pass it on!

The wrap up of this amazing event is here. Just reading the comments is so heartening.  I think I dissolved into tears each and every time I read anothter story and another comment.  I"m so honored to be a part of this amazing group. 

Thank you, Katherine for all the tireless work you do. 

Will Post-Partum Depression Strike Again?

One of the things I worry about with this third baby goes beyond the norm.  Sure, I worry about its health and if everything will be OK during the delivery but not like I did with TD when everything was so brand new and alien.  No, I worry about another round of Post-Partum Depression. 

I had high hopes after The Comedian was born that I would escape unscathed and for a while it felt like I might.  While round two was not nearly as bad as the first go round was with TD it was still there and had to be dealt with and gone through.  H and I still had to figure out counseling sessions. I went on medication.  I was lucky to have family nearby who understood and was able to help out too. There were still dark moments, feelings of isolation, crying jags and those awful times of futility and sadness.  Much wine was consumed and probably a few cigarettes.  I don't want to go through it again.  I wish there was a pill I could pop that would blink it away right after the birth.  "There you go ma'am, with that pill your stomach will shrink back to pre-baby size and you will be rid of any PPD."  Whew!  That's a relief.  Ha.

I think it weighs more on my mind right now because last week I was given an accolade for my "honest and sometimes hilarious" take on PPD.  I'm glad to be of service and let others know that they are not alone.  I'm happy to provide resources and information to aid in others recovery as well. Yet, it is hard to wear this survivor badge with a whole lot of joy or even pride when it feels like something I'll never escape.  Maybe after I survive my third go round, which I hope I'm too busy with three kids to even go through, maybe then I can be proud I survived another battle.   Right now I just feel like I'm one corner away from that ugly beast. 

For information on post-partum depression visit Postpartum Progress.

Month Four a.k.a. I should be quarantined

Here we are in the thick of month four. Just when I thought we were getting the hang of this whole, "Holy Schnikes! We've got two kids! Batten down the hatches! The house is going to explode with diapers and tiny plastic toys!!" thing I go and get strep throat. Uh, yeah.

There's that pesky thing they tell you about when you are post partum. Get sleep. Lack of sleep can put you over the edge and land you in the arid world (complete with sandworms!) of post partum depression. Ha! Thanks for that insight doc! By the way you got a kid in preschool, the whole climate change thing (frost! no frost! shorts today. wool beanies tomorrow.), plus you are breast-feeding? Well then, pack it in lady because you are as good as having the Black Death for the next few months. Did we mention that being chronically/cyclically ill can contribute to depression as well. Fun times, people. Fun times.

Most days I'm good. I'm sniveling away with my post-nasal drip but I'm plowing through life on a Celexa-induced tractor. I've been able to get a grip on things in the last few months and I swear if I could just get over being continuously sick life would be a whole lot easier. I'm trying to take comfort in things like Dash Two sleeping through the night, the fact that she is indeed an easy baby and spring is officially on its way. It is not easy though. While round two with the dreaded PPD is not over it is definitely done roaring like March's lion and acting more like a lamb.

I'm done punning it up, using metaphors and all that. Here's some bloggy love- Miss Banshee. Read her if you haven't already.

I'm hosting a GIVEAWAY this week at MPR. The Scholastic Storybook Treasures 'My Very First Treasury of 50 Storybook Classics- Preschool Stories'. That's 50 award winning title DVDs like Corduroy, Good Night, Gorilla, Harold and the Purple Crayon, The Snowy Day and even some Spanish versions. Enter now over here!!

A Woman Walks Into a Shrinks Office...

Stop me if you have heard this one:

A woman walks into a psychiatrist's office and asks to talk about her Postpartum depression medication and dosage.

She walks out with a script of an MRI, EEG and a two night sleep study (all accommodations provided, thank you very much.)

You never heard that one before? Yeah, me either.

Probably because my insurance messed up and listed the neurologist as a psychiatrist and by the time I figured that out I had already filled out the necessary paperwork and was sitting in his office waiting to discuss my diagnosis.

At first I just swallowed it all but after a few days of thinking things over, going with my gut instinct on the whole thing and more, I am actually really aggravated. First, the whole eye roll thing he did each time I mentioned PPD just pissed me off now and at the time. Second, the lack of listening when I tried to correct him about the insurance mix-up just confirmed my pissiness. He played it off as not wanting me to go since I clearly have sleep issues (true...) but really what I need RIGHT NOW is to get over PPD. Not delve more into other issues. I can't do that when I'm thinking about MRI's, hooked up to an EEG for his diagnosis of 'emotional incontinence' (all that sudden crying... must check for a tumor! Can't be because you have PPD ma'am...)

It just really wreaks of someone who doesn't believe in my diagnosis and in the end will only costs me money and not fix my problem. Only time and myself can fix this problem.

Have You Seen My Rose-Colored Glasses?

Yesterday, I wrote a rather bleak post. I was going to delete it and move on. Then I thought, what if someone else out there needs to hear this? What if someone else out there is having that kind of day? I know that in my darker moments just finding someone who is going through the same thing has bolstered me immensely. So here it is, I titled it 'In the Tunnel' and while today is warmer and brighter and I am lucky to have two such incredibly smiley children I don't believe that days like this one are gone completely.

It would be nice to think that poof! you take a pill and instantly your world is better. That's what the drug companies want us to think isn't it? That after a few weeks you begin to see life through rose-colored glasses once again and suddenly that depleted glass is half full. Oh happy day!

That is not reality. That is not my life. No matter how hard I try to look beyond and know that I will one day feel better I'm still struggling. I keep trying to squash it back down but it just bubbles up again like hot black tar. On the darkest days I feel like I'm lost in a tunnel. I see a tiny pin prick of light at the end but I just never seem to reach it. It is hard to keep from feeling entirely alone and continuously cold. On these days there are no burst of energy or a Mom full of smiles. There is Mom longing for piles of blankets, endless hours of total silence and sleep that she wants so badly she begins to cry just thinking about it. There is the Mom who is swallowed by guilt before she even opens her eyes because she can't quite seem to move beyond the haze and be everything that her children need and desperately crave. These thoughts alone again make her weep. The frustration at going through this and the guilt I feel because I feel like a disease on my family sucks so much of my joy out of my everyday life.

Everything is parched.

Everything is acrid and the weight of the hours is more than I can bear.

I begin to wonder is this what mother hood really is? If it is, I feel doomed that my daughters will soon grow to hate me. That disappointment will brim over in their eyes each time they look at me because I am not as playful or as fun as other mothers. I hate these days. They are never ending and futile all at the same time. I crave the energy I need to fight my way out of this tunnel and stumble towards that tiny pin prick of light until it is no longer small but entirely encompassing.

I've added two new sections to your right - websites, blogs and books that have helped me through Postpartum Depression the first time and again this time.

Possibilities

The sun is out today and I feel like things might be a bit brighter. It doesn't feel like I'm going to break my face if I smile. Yesterday, I only felt like crying maybe three times instead of thirty. One of those three times? I couldn't get my health insurance's website provider section to actually provide me with a therapist and that just seemed like a sick joke.

I *might* not have a headache today unless that Irish jig music on the sweetpeace continues at such a loud volume. TD cannot seem to get enough of galloping around the house with a broom as her horse and a glittery purple bowler hat to that music. It's maddening. And ridiculously cute. And then maddening again.

It seems I have joined a book club too. How in the holy hell did that happen? Do I even have room for that? Considering the fact that I read about eleventy hundred books a month I am quite sure I can squeeze in another but do I want to? Do I want to read something that someone else with entirely different taste from me picked out? Do I want to expand my brain in that way? Can I be that generous? Will there be wine and cheese when we discuss these books? That might just persuade me. I've never been much of a structured activity girl myself but throw some fermented food and drink into the equation and you just might sucker me into it. Then again, my sadistic instigating side (you know about 75% of me) wants to find some truly awful book and make everyone read it. Heh. Insert evil Grinch-like smile here.

The sheer fact that I'm even feeling like instigating anything is putting a positive spin on the whole weekend. That and I feel like scrubbing my toilets again. The fog has slightly lifted. For today at least.

Check out my Elizabeth Pantley book review here. I gave it five stars.

Biting the Big One

I'm not quite sure where to begin. It's not like when I was younger and I could just go off for a few days, write some deeply unprofound thoughts in my journal, break a few things and take a series of long drives. I barely have time to remember to turn off the burners on the stove these days much less time to figure out what is normal.

That's the thing- I don't know what is normal anymore.

I don't think it is normal to keep thinking such incredibly sad, circular thoughts. Thoughts that don't even make sense. Like sitting down feeding Dash Two and remembering the death of my 6th grade friend's mother. The crack in her twelve year old voice as she called from the hospital to let me know that it had finally happened. Suddenly, that memory is playing over and over again in my mind and I feel the tears welling up - again. For the bazillionth time that day.

Is it normal or just being the mother of two small children to be making lunch and realize you forgot to turn off the shower over an hour ago? When you run upstairs to turn it off you hear the water running but instead you just stand and stare at it and get lost in some sort of brain fuzz until your kid comes up to ask you what you are doing. You don't know what you are doing so you just head back downstairs. Later you wonder, "Did I finally turn off the shower?"

I'm a New Englander born and raised and we seem to be genetically programmed to Seasonal Affective Disorder. So is this just the winter blues or something more? The something more is scaring the crap out of me these last few days. OK, weeks. It's been creeping up like a sullen child from the dark, dank corners of my mind for a while now. I've been fighting it tooth and nail and I think I'm finally beginning to feel too weak to combat it anymore.

I know that lack of sleep and all the hormones can contribute to Postpartum Depression. I want this to not be it so badly, for it to just be the winter blues because really? What on earth do I have to be depressed about?! My kids are healthy. I have a roof over my head, my health, a loving H and a great family. BUT MY GOD I JUST CANNOT STOP CRYING. Except between the hours of 6-11 pm when I try really freakin' hard to keep it together and make jokes and feel normal and keep it all so neat and tidy. Who wants to come home to a crying mess every day? Then yesterday as I sat idling in traffic and the tears started again over something so ridiculous as remembering a moment in the inauguration (a very happy day damn it!) I could just picture my heart and it was gushing this black goopy mess all over the place and I could see this one thread, one stitch just keeping it all together. Keeping it all from falling completely apart. I thought, "Just one tiny pluck of that thread and I'll be done. I'll be completely unraveled and I don't know how to stop that from happening."

HOLY FUCK this SUCKS.

I want this to just go away. I keep thinking like a chant in my head, "Just be happy. You are fine. Shut up whiny little girl. Suck it up!" For a while that works. And then it just doesn't. Then I feel like I'm going to explode and instead of feeling hostile and violent like last time I just feel incredibly weepy and unmotivated. The sadness is overwhelming. It leaves me harried, exhausted beyond comprehension and like I've been stuck with a tranquilizer dart. I don't even want to look people in the eye anymore and I have no idea who I am. I want nothing to do with anything. One minute I'm ready to tackle the day, the next I just want to hold my kids and not leave the house, ever. Suddenly I'm roaring to go, the next I want to call the whole day off. If this is winter blues, so be it. If it is something else, I don't even want to know. I don't have time for it. I don't have time for the drugs, the therapy, the journal writing and everything else they prescribed last time. I don't want to talk to my parents about it. I don't want to talk to anyone about it. I don't want it to be real and if I say what I'm thinking aloud then it just might be true and I just don't think I can handle it.

But I don't know where else to go or what else to do. And I'm tired of feeling alone.


If anyone has any advice please let me know. I can't even bring myself to look up stuff up online these days. I realized I had a problem when I wrote this for Honest Baby this week.

Eight Weeks

I woke up this morning and realized that Dash Two is eight weeks old now. My, how time flies. I'm back at the gym, she has slept through the night for the first time and no matter what we do she is growing up at a remarkably fast pace. Those tiny baby days are gone already. She is reaching milestones at lightening speed and it was at this point with TD that I was already back at work.

While I'm still not feeling out of the woods yet as far as PPD goes, I do know that my bad bout with it coincided with my going back to work. Oddly enough, it is this same week in Dash Two's life that I'm heading out of town for the first time. I know she will be in good hands and if anything happens we have a plan but it just amazes me how fast time goes and how small she seems. I had no choice with TD. I had to go back to work. I imagined her bigger and less fragile to make myself OK with dropping her off at daycare each day. I look at her baby sister and I am grateful that we are able to swing this staying home thing. That I'm able to eek some work out that fulfills me and sometimes pays.

It's an amazing life. I am so grateful.


And now a walk down memory lane- Some Vintage Mummy.

-PPD? Maybe just a scootch.
- Violent Tendencies
- On the couch
-Starting to see the Sun
-Without a Doubt
-Day One