Getting Better

As I said in my last post, Olivia is now 5 months old.  It seems like things change every week with her and her behavior, but one thing has remained pretty constant--my stress level.  Amidst a pretty awful week last week, I hit a low point and was extremely emotional.  Extremely emotional for most people may be

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For me, it's more like

Via

basically all the time.  So after a lot of tears and advice from my sisters and Olivia's pediatrician, my doctor and I ultimately decided I needed to start taking something for postpartum depression.  It was a conversation I'd known for a while I needed to have, but couldn't bring myself to do it.  It's strange, because if anyone else told me they were struggling with postpartum and were going to start taking something for it, I would encourage them to do so.  In theory, I know it's the right thing to do.  I know it's no reflection on that person as a mother or a woman.  I know it's just a matter or hormones and chemicals in the brain and there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.  But that didn't stop me from being disappointed in myself.  From feeling like I was less of a mother because I needed pills to feel more connected to my child and my husband.  Once I got beyond the disappointment and just accepted that the medication was the best choice for me, I started to really get anxious.  What if it didn't help?  What if I just kept feeling the way I was feeling until Olivia got older?  What if this was just my personality, to be angry and frustrated and depressed and stressed out ALL THE TIME.  What if I'm like Lucille Bluth and I'm really just a selfish, horrible mother?

Well I've been on the medicine for almost a week now and, aside from the constant, sometimes crippling nausea, I'm feeling much better.  The pharmacist didn't think I'd really start to feel better for 2-4 weeks, so maybe by then I'll really be feeling good and they'll have to adjust my dosage.

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Until then, I'm relieved with the results I've gotten from the medicine.  I feel like myself, rather than the raging emotional monster I'd become.  AND, since I've started taking the meds, I don't think I've cried once, which is the longest I've gone since I was probably six months pregnant.  So...that's success, in my mind.

The point in saying all of this is not to be a ridiculous oversharer (though I realize that's in my nature).  The point is to say that anybody out there that's had postpartum, I get you.  It doesn't have to be miserable.  The sound of your baby crying doesn't have to make you feel sick to your stomach.  Don't let Tom Cruise make you feel like you're crazy.  If it can happen to Brooke Shields, it can happen to any of us.  So take that for what it's worth.