There's a whisper (but quite frankly, it's like a damn bull horn),
"Mommy, I want to cuddle you."
Crap. My damn mom ears physically respond like there's been an earthquake but as the hairs on my arm standing on end retract, I smile,
"I want to cuddle YOU!"
He crawls in bed and fits in the arch of my arm but his legs are longer now. I feel his freezing toes and warm them between my knees. It's damn early. Physically, I'm so over this but my heart knows: this won't last forever.
We stay avoiding truth as long as we can, Daddy/Husband sleeping soundly beside us, & then the cries come. Unintelligible sounds that I understand: "I'm 6 months old! I want my bottle!" So the little Mr. and I leave Daddy/Husband in the warmth. We rattle the bed enough for him to turn over. Physically, he knows we're gone but mentally, he's nowhere to be found.
The carpet touches my feet and alerts me: Here we go. I grab my ugly socks (the ones that are too warm to stop wearing-the ones my little mr. steals from my that go up to his knees--his "mommy socks"). I'm tired, hungry but before any of that I make a stop at the counter: Friday-pop the lid- throw the pink pill back in my mouth- close the lid/swallow simultaneously. Ok. If I don't do anything else for myself that day, I do that. Take that pill that has leveled me out, been one in a series of things that have helped bring me back--back to the land of the living.
Here's the thing about post partum depression for me: it felt fictional, it felt fake but I knew better. It also felt like unbelievable failure...until I got so damn desperate to be better that I could admit: I need help, this isn't forever, this is going to be a fight and I'm going to win.
Step 1: The hotline, the doctors, the stabilizing. Step 2: Swallow, Sleep, Wake, Repeat. Step 3: Talk. TALK. T A L K. Step 4 : Look yourself in the mirror and see my face, feel alive (and now it feels good!), seek God, JOY.
I'm back.
again...the inhale...the exhale...slowly. look at me - making it about me. ugh - so nasty.
ReplyDeleteyou. amaze. me. You have a vulnerability like NO ONE ELSE I KNOW. Your heart is not on display with a spotlight - its quietly sitting next to you on a subway (you know, ALL those subways in CA...) or standing next to you on an elevator (ok, that's more like it).
It is a heart that when you look at it, you don't feel pity and "oh...look at that" while shaking your head and walking away, avoiding eye contact. You want to sit and chat with it over coffee, slowly get to know the ins-outs. It is comforting and refreshing. IT. IS. YOU.
I have said it before and I know it sounds so cliche - but I really REALLY am so blessed to call you a friend. You have deeply impacted my life in ways that are just you being you - I couldn't even say WHAT specifically - but you have created a safe place for me to be me, to think my thoughts all while encouraging me - without even saying a word. It is that mental state that I have knowing you are there, and everything is going to be OK.
That's where I think we have the benefit of the familial bond. All those years we have co-existing with similar relatives and similar genes in that make up our very core that gives me that extra level of unspoken peace. But then when I do need you - YOU ARE SO PRESENT. You're able to say things to me and I hear them differently, these heart arrows coming straight from your heart. Truth in love - one of the many gifts you have given to me.
I hate that you have gone through this. But I love where you are because of it.
xoxo
You are going to win. Sending you love and strength,
ReplyDeletexo,
Lulu
and i am now just catching up with you. ugh.
ReplyDeleteLoved that you are taking care of yourself now...
it's not fun to have those feelings and i had them too after the
birth of Fin.
Not that bad....but i just felt so out of control.
I'm proud of you.....you really are such a great mom and sometimes we just
need to hear these things. It also helps to pull yourself away for parenting {even for a night} and
take time for ourselves. Love you!!!