Yesterday, I found myself searching online for “What’s the normal number of times a day for a mother of a six-month-old to cry?” I quickly realized I needed to refine my search to include the perspective of a mother, not just any random person.
Some days, I feel like I’m nailing this whole motherhood thing. I look at my kids and think, “Wow, you’re doing something right because these little ones are amazing.” But then, there are the majority of days when I feel utterly incompetent. I can’t even remember the last time I washed my hair, and yet I’m responsible for the well-being of a toddler and a newborn.
Transitioning from no kids to one is a shock to the system. It’s like your life is flipped upside down in an instant. Moving from one child to two is pure chaos, bringing a whole new set of challenges that no one can truly prepare for until they are in the thick of it. I can’t fathom managing more than two; to those parents with three or more, you have my utmost respect.
When I first dealt with postpartum depression and anxiety, I would sit for hours holding my daughter, lost in a haze of sadness and guilt. I had the space to feel everything without anyone but my partner witnessing it.
I thought the second time around would be different. I was convinced it would be easier on my mental health. I had a newborn who only cried when he needed something. Sam was the most laid-back baby I’d ever seen, especially compared to my first, who was colicky and cried non-stop. My experience with her had been traumatic, leaving me vulnerable to deeper feelings of depression.
But a month after Sam’s birth, the weight of sadness hit me like a freight train. I tried to shake it off, but soon I was drowning in emptiness. I felt as if I should be grateful—my life seemed perfect, but I was inexplicably despondent. I attributed it to complications with retained placenta that left me feeling physically drained.
After undergoing a D&C, I thought I would start feeling better, but instead, I fell deeper into depression. I couldn’t muster a smile or a laugh. I would sit in front of the television, zoning out, unable to engage with anything. I avoided seeing friends and even struggled to hold Sam, feeling utterly broken.
One afternoon, as I sobbed on the couch, my three-year-old, Lily, came up to me, wrapped her arms around me, and said, “It’s okay, Mommy.” In that moment, I realized how my feelings were affecting her. I could no longer ignore my struggles; I needed to reach out for help. I contacted my doctor to adjust my Zoloft dosage and scheduled an appointment with my therapist. Just taking those steps brought a flicker of hope.
Now, six months later, I’m starting to feel better. I wouldn’t say I’m thriving, but I no longer feel trapped in despair. I experience a mix of good days and bad, but thankfully, the good days are becoming more frequent. Just this week, I watched my kids play together, and for the first time in a while, my heart swelled with joy. I even found myself chuckling at Lily’s antics.
But then, just a day later, I found myself screaming into a pillow and hurling a baby walker down the stairs in frustration. It’s a rollercoaster, and some days are rougher than others. Today, I’ve only cried once, which feels like a victory. Both kids were at daycare for the first time, and while I cherished some rare quiet time, I couldn’t wait to pick them up early because I missed them.
I’m learning that each day is a new adventure. There will be bumps along the way, and yes, there will be tears. Some days, we navigate the chaos with ease, while other days, we get stuck in the mud. Just like a vehicle needs to be towed and repaired by professionals, sometimes we need to ask for help. It doesn’t make us any less capable as parents to admit we’re struggling. Our friends, family, and professionals are here to help us find our way back to solid ground.
If you’re interested in more insights, check out this other blog post. Also, for further information on postpartum health, visit womenshealth.gov/pregnancy and for expert advice, take a look at intracervicalinsemination.com.
Summary
Navigating postpartum depression can feel like an uphill battle, filled with moments of joy and despair. It’s crucial to recognize when you need help and to reach out for support. Embracing the journey, with all its ups and downs, is part of the process of healing and finding balance in motherhood.