LIfe goes on...

I used to be so good at keeping up with journals and whatnot. After college I think I went on a writing strike because I was so tired of it, now that has cursed me. Now I have to force myself to put my thoughts down, which is probably why I am crazier now than I was then. It is all inside of me and keeps me up all hours of the night, which makes being Elliott's mommy a tad bit harder. However, this time there has been a particular reason for my long absence. I'm going to say the dreaded words and hope my pain is of some use to otheres.

Post Partum Depression

4 1/2 months ago I became a statistic. It hit hard, fast, and knocked me flat on my cushy butt. Surprisingly I never expected it and the sheer severity of it had me crawling on my knees to get through each minute.

When Elliott was born I was in this trance. I couldn't comprehend what had just happened. This beautiful new spirit was laying all gooey and wet on my stomach and all I could do was cry and stroke his soft head. My wonderful husband fell in love at first sight, holding that baby so close to his heart not wanting to ever let go. It is only now, after I have gotten through the crisis period that I look back at that moment and feel the overwhelming love for him.

The first week home was a blur. So many appointments for our jaundiced little guy. Not a moment to rest and let it all set in. I began crying and I literally couldn't stop. I'd tell Cameron that I needed to go the bathroom and I'd walk in our room and crawl into bed and bawl and scream. No matter how many times I told my mind that it was going to be okay---the pain and mind numbing anxiety refused to go away. As the days went on it got worse. I began to have panic attacks every couple of minutes. I couldn't look at my precious son without having one. Even now it makes me cry, how I failed him in those moments. But I couldn't help it. I have never felt so alone and so scared in my whole life. With all my heart I believed there was no hope and that it would never get better, that I would feel this awful for the rest of my life. My crowning moment was when my mom came to help take care of Elliott when Cameron had to go back to work. She told me to go take a shower and I slowly got in and then I fell to the ground in the shower and screamed and cried harder than I have ever cried. I begged the Lord to take this from me, I told Him I couldn't do it anymore. My mom came in and asked if I wanted her to hold me. I told her I'd be okay and she went to get Elliott. I kept crying and finally told the Lord it was all in his hands, this was the hardest thing I would have to do and I couldn't do it without him.

Fast forward a bit and I began seeing a therapist who told me I wasn't crazy and that I would be okay. I'm still seeing her and am medicated for anxiety and ppd and hoping that eventually I will be weaned off of both of them. For now, I am so grateful for doctors and family and husbands who stand by your side through it all. There are still some days where I can feel my heart beating out of my chest, but I figure thats just plain motherhood.

My son Elliott is everything to me. Everyday I fall in love with him a little bit more. He is beautiful, stubborn, and extremely vocal and mobile. Even though thinking about those months brings back terrifying thoughts and tears, I would do it all again to have him. I'd suffer over and over again if that is what it took.