Husband rolled over and snuggled up to me. On the boys monitor, I could hear our oldest gently and nicely wake up his little brother to play. It was Amazing. The joy I felt was so overwhelming and the love I have for my family shined so much, I teared up. Rubbing my daughters hair, holding my husband’s hand, listening to my boys being nice to each other and all I could think was “Wow… if I could bottle this right now, or even put it in pill form to take when the PPD monster rears her ugly head. Boy, I’d be set. I’d be able to get around what ever evil thoughts or self doubting I could possibly have. ” If it were only that simple.I know I’m at higher risk for PPD, this being my 3rd time thru this pregnancy thing and I had it with both boys.
DJ it was the feeling like a failure every way I turned. Not a day went by that I didn’t think in the back of my head how much I was screwing up being a mom or being a soldier or both. About the time I was starting to get the hang of it, the orders to move away from him and the husband came and it was like a sick twisted Alice in Wonderland I was in, following the rabbit down the darkest holes of my psyche, where I’d never be a good enough mother for leaving my baby so soon. That no matter how great I was after that time away from him, he would always hate me, and that he would always be right to hate me for being the non existent mom Monday thru Friday and some weekends as well.
Matt it was this fractured dark day where I was taking a bath with him, feeling so touched out and ready for him to nap somewhere besides my arms. I saw it so clearly, me drowning his tiny body in the tub. With a sick to the stomach feeling, my reality lurched on itself. Those weird out of body flashes you’d see on Ally McBeal? Just like that. Only it was me. Becoming those monster moms I judged on the news. And then I was back in the tub with him still cradled in my arms, staring up at me intently, enjoying the warm water. Okay then, time to go back on meds and talking to a professional.
But this time I’m trying so hard to not fall again. I know there’s a crazy high risk of me falling off the horse again. And needing the meds. My OB nurses were phenomenal, and all personally know me from the breastfeeding group project I took on last episode of PPD, and all were super watchful during my 4 day stay at the hospital. Day 3 I was a lot constipated and they thought it was maybe me hitting that button. I was still good mentally then, just like right now I’m feeling pretty confident. But having those extra people checking in, making sure I wasn’t about to end up I the show “Snapped”. It helps. These gals I consider my friends from our work together on the breastfeeding group. And since being home, I’ve been blessed with meals for our family from husband’s boss’s wife, family, friends. Blessed with friends who know my history who listen when I need to vent to keep myself on this side of sane and upside right. To remind me that I need to use my words when I think I can’t ask for help. And my husband who is willing to listen when I use my words rather then scream/sob incoherently much like our 2 year old when he’s frustrated. I swear have no idea where he gets it from, really.
So for now, I’m good. Feeling good mentally. But friends and family, keep asking. Because, even though I’m feeling confident now, I don’t want to be alone when I find myself falling again. I don’t want to be that mom on the news. And you guys are alot of why I feel so confident this time.
And I’ll work on doing what I can to keep myself up. I’m going to work out again. I’m going to ride my horse. I’m going to train more on my handgun and get good at it again. I’m going to focus on me so I can be great for my kids. Because, even when they drive me crazy, they are my bliss and happiness all in the same crazy package.