When skies are gray...

I may or may not regret writing such a deeply personal thing in here, but it's not going to stop me from doing it.

I am at a very low place right now. Why? I couldn't tell you. I started this entry a week ago, and have not been able to finish it. I don't really know where to begin with what I need to get out. First, I am traumatized by my daughter's birth. It was a very scary, traumatic experience. Childbirth obviously is physically hard on the body no matter what, but it's supposed to be joyful regardless because it's bringing a child into the world, which is a miracle in itself. I am still pretty upset that I missed the contractions, water breaking, frantic rush to the hospital, pushing...you get the picture. Instead, I feel that I was bullied by my doctors into an induction when neither myself or my baby were ready, and it ended in 28 hours of painful labor followed by a c-section. In the end, all I wanted to do was sleep. I had lost so much blood and I was seriously shaking so hard I didn't want to see anyone, including the baby. What brand new mother doesn't want to see their baby? I felt terrible. When I stopped shaking so hard and came to, I looked at her laying peacefully on the warmer, sleeping with her arms in the air. Then I finally got to hold her as we went to the postpartum recovery room.

The hospital experience wasn't horrible. The day she was born I was bedridden and not allowed to eat. All I did was try and sleep, and feed my baby. I was in too much pain for anything else. I had a ton of visitors, which I am very grateful for, but some were not very wanted, dropped in with no notice whatsoever, and my baby was passed around between everyone. I wanted some time with my husband and brand new baby and I felt like I didn't get that until late at night, when she needed to eat or whatever.

We have been home almost 2 weeks now and it has been horrible for me. When she was about 5 days old, I found myself on my spare bathroom floor crying my eyes out, only to be found by my mom who was doing my dishes. I was wondering why I had ever decided to have a baby in the first place. I was missing my life before the baby, when my husband and I could go out to dinner, when I could sleep more than a couple hours at a time, and when my life did not always revolve around a newborn baby. In the midst of these thoughts are guilt because many women out there would love to have a new baby, and her I am thinking I ruined my own life, my husband's life, and my daughter's. That day was the beginning of a horrible downward spiral that has landed me near rock bottom...and it's become very clear that I have postpartum depression. My daughter is now 2 weeks old as of today and I am struggling to enjoy my baby. I do love her, but I am almost afraid of her. This coming Monday, my husband is going back to work so I'll be alone with her all day during the day and I am beyond terrified about that. I am afraid of going into a panic. It will be the first time I can't just leave and run away from my feelings.

I don't know if it is caused by pure exhaustion and hormones or not, but postpartum depression is evil. You expect to be over the moon after the birth of your child and you expect it to be so blissful, and then it sneaks up on you and hits you with guilt, hopelessness, despair, regret, and a whole slew of emotions that are a huge shock to your body. So, in an attempt to get rid of this or help it, I made a trip to the doctor that I really did not want to make, and got some medicine. It is going to take a good 2 weeks or so to work, or to be most effective or whatever, so I'm just waiting. The thing about it is I can't breastfeed while I take it. Well I can, but the effects on the infant are unknown and they could be learning delays. So I'd rather not take that chance.

If you knew me well or talked to me a lot during my pregnancy, I did so much research on breastfeeding and how to be successful at it while I was pregnant. I took a class taught by a lactation consultant, read various books, you name it. Then I was blessed with a baby who latches on like a pro. I loved nursing her, and she did too. She would gaze up at me with her loving, innocent blue eyes while she ate. The fact that I have to give that up now breaks my heart completely. I feel like I am somehow failing her, because breastmilk is best, and it was a great bonding experience for us. So that is something I am completely and totally struggling with. I hate having to use formula and yes, I know that formula is not poison and it is not the end of the world that she eats formula. In fact, she seems to be adjusting well to the bottle. But everything I wanted and tried to plan for during my pregnancy didn't happen like I wanted it to. Obviously I did not plan for a c-section, and I did not want to quit nursing.

To sum it up, I feel very defeated but this is a battle I just can't win without help. Even if help is a drug I never wanted to have to take. I feel very weak, and like less of a woman right now as I watch my daughter lay in my husband's arms, sucking on her pacifier, looking content. He's been a big help which is why I am so nervous for him to go back to work. My mom can come in the afternoon, but it will be a long and tiring morning for us, mostly me. I can already forsee it, and I don't want to even think about how it will be come January when school starts again. All the people who come and visit can easily leave and go back to their normal lives. My husband can even go to work, which is like an escape from home, and resume his normal life, and I can't. My new life is staying home with her, and it is much harder than I thought it would be.

Also, the title of this is from a song I really like and would love to be able to sing to my baby, You Are My Sunshine. I have tried since this has all happened, and I can't seem to get past "you make me happy...." because right now, no one really makes me happy right now, as sad as that is.

So, I guess that's all I have to say for now. Oh, if anyone wants to know more about postpartum depression or anything like that, Brooke Shields' book is great.