Two.

Am I doing this right?

Why don’t I feel like i’m doing this “mommy” thing right?

Having a history of depression, postpartum depression affected me. I remember calling Michael over after giving birth to make sure Evan was still breathing. The first few nights I remember crying because I couldn’t hear him breathing from our bed. This of course kicked my anxiety into high gear. I couldn’t get images out of my head of Evan getting injured. It didn’t matter to me who was holding him. If it wasn’t me, he was going to die. I was sure of it. Having these thoughts all day long was exhausting. I was tired. Feeling the guilt of the many, many E.R. visits during my pregnancy (gallstones), and all of the pain medication pumped into my body from the pain, I opted out of taking my anti-depressants.

At exactly four weeks postpartum, I was admitted to have my gallbladder removed. That definitely made for some uncomfortable feeding sessions. On top of that, I was told not to lift anything over 10lbs. At the time, Evan was already over that threshold. My depression started spiraling. I felt so helpless at times. All I wanted was to take care of my baby. How could I when I couldn’t even get out of bed on my own?

Finally I had enough. I decided to seek help and get my condition under control. I could not physically, mentally, and emotionally take care of him to the best of my abilities when I was not in a good physical, mental, and emotional state. How could I “sleep when he sleeps” when I was constantly hovering over him, counting his every breath? After some time, my anxiety decreased. I was able to get some more rest. I wanted to be out of the house. I felt more “myself”. I was finally enjoying the ever so fleeting newborn stage.

I’ve yet to master the art of staying awake after the first feeding, feed myself, and complete the list of tasks I wrote out the night before. It’s also a rare occasion that I’ve gotten out of my pajamas, brushed my hair, picked up the house, and have dinner cooking before Michael comes home from work.

For him and for myself, I will get there.