Many people out there may have no idea what those 3 little letters stand for. But, I am betting pretty much every mother out there immediately identifies those 3 little letters. PPD=Post Partum Depression. 3 little letters. 1 Big problem.
I, never in a million years thought that I, a Pink Haired happy go lucky, always see the positive spin on everything person would ever be attacked by a depressive wave of emotions. And without warning, really. But, I have. I have not "Crossed over" to the scary depressive side by any means, but I am battling with the hormonal disturbances in my normal world that bring me to tears because my apple pie is slightly lopsided. Or because Critter2 doesn't nurse well during one of her feedings, the PPD immediately steps up quicker than reality and sends me automatically into feelings of failure and sobs. Knowing in reality that Critter2 is probably just not hungry or that my pie tipped over on the plate and tastes just fine. It makes no difference the cause, the outcome is always the same. "I am a loser, a failure...sobs ensue." Then I feel stupid and wipe my tears and move on.
Awesome. It is bizarre because I know better. I know that I am a great mother. I know I worship the air my children breathe and do everything humanely possible to give them both a life more grand than my wildest dreams can concoct. And yet still I succumb to the wrath of the birthing hormones and cry, feel "blue" and find it a battle each day to brush my teeth (just kidding, I always brush no matter how many sobs it takes). The division within my soul, of the reality versus irrationality of the hormone surges is a battle that is indescribable. Knowing the rational way to behave and doing so, but feeling the irrational pangs of sadness is unreal. Especially when looking at the most beautiful face of your 3 week old daughter and holding the hands and singing with my adorable 2.5 year old daughter. I find myself in wonderment as to how I can be sobbing when I have been blessed with such perfection, twice.
But it happens. It is real. It is not some crazy fake brush off new moms have devised to run off friends, family and unsuspecting husbands. I will admit, before being a mother, before experiencing it I half heatedly thought that it was made up. I loudly admit to everyone that I was WRONG. It is a real life emotional roller coaster that sneaks in post birth and taps you on the shoulder, making you jump unsuspectingly.
I share this with you today because I want it to be known that it does happen. It happens to even the happiest moms, the most stable moms, the most put together moms. It has no boundaries, it effects all people. And since I know this is going on with me, I reach out to my friends and family and let them know what I am feeling. And although they may think I am nutty, they hold out their hands in support and help me through. That is what friends and family do. I only hope other mothers that feel the effects of PPD can reach out and ask for help if need be.