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.

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!

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!!

I Cry Do Over!

So yesterday was a total wash. At least as far as living a healthy shredding lifestyle. There were doctor appointments for me and TD, and a sleepless night broke us. Numerous visits to the pharmacy and I finally got to see the psychiatrist for my postpartum depression diagnosis. It was simply put a very long and exhausting day. Do any of us really want to review our whole psych history in under an hour and dredge up all our little and not so little issues in that short amount of time? No, not really. Do we want to leave that cozy office with its box of endless tissues and go out into the blaring sun and head back into our everyday life? Not me. I just wanted to take a big nap.

I did learn one thing yesterday. When I'm stressed and tired it is oh so clear that I reach for one thing. Food. Very, very bad food.

OK, so really it is only very, very bad when I cram mass quantities of it into my gaping pie hole all at once but that is in fact just what I did yesterday. In between the appointments, caring for a sick kid and work I managed to eat a cupcake, some soda, large amounts of coffee and an entire McDonald's Value Meal. Oh yeah, I went there. I ate those golden fries and downed a thick, cheesy QPC with glee. I just wanted TD to eat something. Two days of only drinking and not much of that even I thought I could charm her with a chi-chi nugget or two. Nothing doing. The kid ate one fry and a slice of apple before laying down again. What did I do? Well, I ate those disgusting little nuggets of course. And you know what? The last time I ate a chicken nugget was when the Golden Arches first debuted them. I hate them that much. Yet, I didn't even notice what I was doing. I was just eating for the sake of eating. I didn't stop there either. I crammed a piece of supreme style pizza into my mouth too. The bloat cannot be believed. I wouldn't be surprised if I ate in my sleep last night because last night was very fuzzy with more endless sick child wake ups and me fighting off the cold I thought I was finally getting over. In my Celexa/nyquil haze I very well could have eaten a carton of chocolate ice cream and sprayed some leftover icing into my mouth and would not be the wiser.

Just when I thought that I had jumped that hurdle of eating to fill a void and cure my woes I jumped right back into that pit. It's maddening I tell you, just maddening. I'm avoiding the lemon poppy seed scones and lemon curd in my pantry like they are the Black Death (book club people, they are for my book club meeting, I swear! Except that -oh yeah, I am not going to that tonight. Oops.).

I'm back on the wagon today of egg whites, low doses of caffeine and lots of fruits and veggies. If I can get up the energy I'll kick my own butt with day nine of Shredding. The journey continues. I guess I should have expected a few bumps along the way.

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.

I'm the Dumb Ass

Holy canned creamed corn dogs do I hate February. Well, doesn't that just sound like a hot mess of something you don't want anything to do with? Really, I try to be optimistic about it even going so far as to read this post about finding the positives in February. It's TD's, my grandmother's and my father's birthday. It's Valentines day too. A day I used to champion with the line, "V-Day. It's better than D-Day."

However, it is always this month that I begin to feel itchy in my skin. While the days are shorter they feel endlessly long and tiring. My brain ceases to function and I'm always sick. My work suffers as does my soul (isn't that dramatic?). I lose any of the motivation I had in January and all I want to do is curl up on the couch and read a good book. In a sense I just want to hibernate. Even the sunlight seems to sell out during this month. It's cheap looking. What E and I used to call, 'K-Mart lighting." As if it was a blue light special or something. I want to be outside but when I get out there I want to flee back into the warm, ice-free indoors. My attitude is much like a light switch being flicked on and off continuously creating your own personal strobe light effect. Wheee!!! Isn't' this fun. Um.. no, not so much.

Yesterday, I felt better. The cold was going away and I felt in control of things. I got things accomplished and felt rested. Today? Not so much. I awoke this morning feeling night of the living dead tired. An industrial-sized bottle of Gummi vitamins being shaken in my face. TD's newest obsession. The girl is healthy, I'll give her that. I had been up no less than three times last night and I felt like I was back in some sort of sorority pledge hazing ritual. The only thing missing was a constant loop of the song, 'Cotton-Eye Joe' being played in the background. The cold is back on and I just want to burrow under the covers and hope that when I come out from under them it will be sunny and 70. The lack of sleep and the constant feeling under the weather thing is not helping my frame of mind. I find myself day dreaming about long hours of uninterrupted sleep, warmer days and actually having the motivation to herd us all to the gym. I hate the way I look and feel right now and yet without the key component of a good nights sleep I don't feel as if I'm ever going to get better. Sleep is a carrot. I'm the dumb ass who is pulling the cart. I'm constantly walking ahead trying to grab that juicy carrot and take a big bite.

Dr. Mom

I'm in a sea of tissues today and wouldn't you know it - the million cans of chicken soup I always seem to have in my house and the giant jug of orange juice are all G.O.N.E. Gone. Dr. Mom is sick and we are out of the good stuff.

Blast!

The laundry monster is attacking me as I type. There's a whole legion of unmatched socks just waiting for the right moment to cry "Mutiny!"

I feel better mentally but I seem to still have my moments. The moments where I just have to stand there and squeeze my eyes shut, press my fingers to my temples and try to focus, focus, focus! Moments where I find myself still starting blankly at an open cabinet or draw wondering how I got into this room and what it is I'm looking for. I feel blessed though that I have the help that I do and that things are not nearly as dark as they were a week ago.

Now, I'm going to see if I magic up some chicken soup by sheer will and hope that the orange juice follows.

Side Effects

The other day I was reading the fine print of side effects on this new "happy" pill I'm supposed to be taking for all this Postpartum junk.

-May cause vomiting that looks like coffee grounds. Awesome! So even if I am not drinking the java it will look like I am! Yippiee!

-May cause sleeplessness. A few side effects down it says. May also cause yawning. Gee, ya think? And yes, it does. Just what the PPD lady needs. More sleeplessness. They should just add 'and increased irritability.'

On a bottle of natural teething tablets I found the warning:

- Consult your physician before taking if you are pregnant or breastfeeding. Um.. how many of you out there are still teething or have a secret addiction to all natural teething tablets? Yeah? That many of you. Wow. You should really form a support group or something.


Check out the latest episode of 'Exposed Brick' here. Episode three 'Shakespeare is Obnoxious' is the best so far!

I'll Get There at Some Point

It's a beautiful snowy day here in the 'burbs. There's no school. Dash Two is teething and TD and I have a cold. I'm trying to stay positive but there was little sleep to be had in my house by me last night. I just couldn't stay asleep and for no good reason other than my brain was whirring away on mindless junk.


Today is day one on the meds my doctor prescribed. I'll take them for a month to see how it all goes. I just have one thing to say though, if one more person tells me I need to "just get more sleep and hit the gym." I'm going to cover them with brain goo because my head really will have exploded. Seriously? That's all I need to do? How about the fact that when I think of loading the kids in the car right now, the two hours it takes me to get out the door and lugging that heavy baby carrier around, my brain gets fuzzy and I have to shut my eyes to keep from having some sort of meltdown. I just can't deal with it right now. I need quiet, and yes, more sleep. I need a schedule for Dash Two and less going on in my life. When I think about scheduling appointments for me with a therapists and a psychiatrist like my doctor told me to do I get all panicky and can't figure out how it will all work. "There isn't enough time in the day!" my brain screams.


I will have to hire a sitter which I'm not sure we can afford and then that sends me into a tailspin of more guilt and uber-sucktastickness. The negativity is exuding off me and the anger is there today. I've turned into post-partum Darth Vader. I hate that I can't wrap my brain around it in some Zen like cocoon and push it away. It just ain't happening yet. But I feel pressure to be well already. Like one day of meds and the switch is flipped. Presto Chango! All better! I envy the women who never have to deal with this.


People tell me I need to be around more people to relax and take my mind off things but the last thing I want is a progressive dinner or potluck to prepare for or to head off to the store to buy even more vitamins. What's with the vitamins people? Why do people keep telling me about vitamins!?! I'm going to start hurling giant bottles of fish oil and vitamin B at passing cars soon.


I will say this - the support I've received from you all has been outstanding. I cannot get over it and it has helped me more than anything else so far. I appreciate it and it makes my days brighter. I know it will get better. I will get better. Next week I might even feel like going to the gym again. I just have to take it one day at a time right now and have faith. Lattes and Life has faith in me. She sent me this beautiful award and it made me cry. The Nobel Award is for Motherhood. It's an award for being a wonderful mom, for doing wonderful work, and to remind me to be proud of my accomplishment.


Thank you so much Tiffany- you have always given me support even when we were just little online support group friends (girlfriends of Marines y'all) back in our SoCal days.

And to think this was going to be a post about random stuff you might not know about me. Well here you go- I punch people in the face who try to give me throat cultures. It's like a reflex that I can't control. My current doctor has it in my chart not to do them. He has said, "I'm not a masochist. Here's your strep throat meds."

P.S. I wrote another car review. Calling all automakers- let me review your cars- I love this stuff! Check it out here at Autosavant.

It's Nothing Like Last Time

I feel I should check in despite it being a Sunday (read: a day I don't normally post on) because-

A. My blog is making my Dad nervous.

2. I've had a lot of concerned emails, new twitter follows and some comments that are longer than the norm expressing heartfelt concern and love. I can't even begin to thank you all for all of it. It never ceases to amaze me that the Internet is my friend.

and

D. I made cupcakes and didn't frost them so clearly there is a problem.

If you got that screwed up sequencing then you get a gold star. It's from Home Alone if you didn't.

And now for the update:

I did some talking with H this weekend. However, all that came after this amazing woman came to my rescue. Really, if someone had told me that a blogger would show up on my front step less than two hours after I wrote this post I would never have believed them. But there she was holding dinner in one hand with a free arm to hug my suddenly bursting into tears self. Yeah, I cried like a baby and she just trotted in and took over. She washed my dishes. She fed and dressed TD, read her a story or two, made me drink some serious amounts of water and told me to ditch the caffeine and keep up the breastfeeding. Without really thinking about it I was downing a pot of coffee a day. No wonder Dash Two wasn't sleeping! Duh, Mummy. We ate some cupcakes and talked things over and hours later after she left I felt like I had a plan in place.

When H came home and we talked things over and I felt a bit calmer so I didn't sock him when he said the following:

H: I think if you get more sleep, exercise, give up a lot of that caffeine and take your vita.... Oh crap. I sound like that asshole now, don't I? Sorry about that. But seriously, let's try that this weekend and see how you feel.

So I am. I went to the gym. I've had a bit of alone time. I slept in and took a nap and I'm remembering to drink my water and only imbibing one heavenly cup of java per day. I've got a headache, I'm a bit cranky and I still feel tired but the crying? The crying has been cut by about 40%. It's not complete and I still have that living under water feeling so I think I will make the effort to call my doctor this week. My mother is freaking out and if I don't seek help from the medical community I think she'll end up staying at my house indefinitely. That's a wonderful band-aid but it isn't a cure.

I'm also cutting back on work which I am loathe to do but I need more time to figure out how this slightly larger family works. I haven't been giving myself or us that. This is supposed to be a journey of sorts isn't it? If this is indeed PPD, then yeah, it probably will be. Just like last time, except that I feel nothing like last time. Nothing.

And if you would be so kind, please send Kristen some love for all the love she has shown me. She's having one hell of a clearance sale over at Baby Brewing so go deck your loved ones out in the coolest, cheekiest gear around. I'm talkin' $6 t-shirts people! Now shop!


I'm also giving away a BusyBodyBook 2009 Day Planner this week. Enter to win at Mummy's Product Reviews.

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.

Help Katie, Help Yourself, Help the Future

I yelled in meetings. I swore at my boss and made incoherent rants during discussions at work.

I shoved someone into a cubicle wall.

Me. While not exactly mild-mannered this was not my usual demeanor.

I wanted to mow people down in parking lots for crossing intersections too slowly. I saw no reason why I couldn't. I am not joking. I thought it was perfectly logical to ram into someone, hit them, or even possibly maim them for life all to save me a mintue of my time.

I had inexplicable never ending amounts of rage.

I wanted to live in our storage space and never come out. I thought it would be a better world if no one found me. The fetal position was never so good.

Again. Me. Not normal behavior for myself. While I've never been a Susie Sunshine type my dark side does recede on most days. I felt like a great White shark trolling dark, murky waters always looking for something else to attack. I felt alienated and hostile.

I could barely brush my teeth some days. I cried while I dried my hair before work everyday because no one would hear me.

I was diagnosed with Post Partum Depression (PPD). It was such a relief! I started taking the meds and went to weekly therapy sessions. I began to return to the world of more colors and less anger management. Then it swung wildly back the other way. I felt homicidal and was told I had been given too strong of a prescription. Great. My OBGYN and my therapist weren't talking to each other and I became confused. After four months of medication and therapy I took myself off cold turkey. Not the wisest thing but I knew in my heart I had passed the brink the first time and I might not make it back the second time if I didn't just stop taking the meds.

For me it worked. I consider myself lucky. For many women, including my own mother who spent years in a state of post-partum depression, they are not so lucky. In the late 1970's when it was my mothers turn at this grim affliction there was no one to talk to, the stigma was burning bright and health insurance sure as hell didn't pay for these types of "female maladies" that were all in your head. Ha. Those were some dark years my friends. For everyone involved.

I am extremely thankful and grateful to my mother for her incredible honesty to me as I grew up. I knew that PPD existed and that it might haunt me one day. She saw it in my eyes way before anyone else. That alone was one of the greatest comforts. It made it that much easier to see it and accept it. I can never thank her enough for that. It pains me to know that many women still suffer so deeply and desperately from this form of depression. That it is still so difficult to diagnose properly and treat. Something needs to be done! NOW! TODAY!

Today, October 24, is MOTHERS ACT day. I urge you to post about PPD on your blog and spread the word, arm yourself with knowledge and email, write, fax, or call your Senators to assist in passing the Mothers Act bill with the HELP bill that is
currently sitting in the Senate. The Mothers Act bill will help new moms-

Providing important education and screening on postpartum depression (PPD) that can lead to early identification and treatment. The legislation includes two grants to help health care providers educate, identify and treat PPD.
Expanding important research to improve and discover new treatments, diagnostic tools and educational materials for providers. Since the exact cause of PPD isn't known, research continues to be the key to unlocking the mystery of this condition.

So what else do you have to do today? Oh right! A ton. I know I do too. But this really will only take a moment. Help women like Katie, a missing Rhode Island woman and mother. Instead of being sent home with her family after her release from the hospital and diagnosis of PPD she was let go in a taxi. She has now been missing for over a month. This is more than tragic. For more information and ways to help Mothers Act read here. It is your good deed for today and for the future.