My dearest Baby.
Postpartum depression lied to me. It came to convince me that because you cry a lot, we were shared a bad hand as parents. We have a difficult baby, what did we do wrong to deserve it?
Postpartum depression came to steal from me. Weeks and weeks of moments with you. Milestones that I missed because I could only spot the bad stuff. Time with you that passes incredibly fast, that I will never get back. How sorry I am and now that I didn’t wished for it.
Postpartum depression came to scare me. That I’m going to make the wrong decisions with you, or that I’m not a good mom, or that it’s going to be so hard forever and that you’ll just never stop crying.
Postpartum depression made me angry. For the mom’s with easy babies, for my husband who I do not believe understands, and yes, sometimes for you who do not want to stop crying.
Postpartum depression came to take away my confidence. I could not even decide for myself when I should change your clothes, because what if I’m wrong? But even though I did not have confidence in myself, I also did not trust anyone else, even 4 different pediatricians.
I’m so sorry. Sorry about all the stealing and lying and fear and anxiety and doubt that was in our house the first bunch of weeks of your life. Too bad your dad had to carry the house alone. Too bad I did not take photos of the good times.
But then I remembered, the Lord does not give you more than you can handle. And if that’s how it feels, he’s also giving you a husband and grandmothers and girlfriends who check in and give medication to carry you in the times when it feels like your own legs can’t stop you. I am so infinitely grateful for the people He has placed in our lives. They are our village, my baby.
Postpartum depression is something that people do not talk about enough. Why should one first find out someone else is through the same when you tell them what you are going through? It makes me sad that people are not talking about it.
Postpartum depression is not who I am. I am your mom (and a wife and a daughter and so much more) and I love you infinitely. We’ll be okay.
Written by Eugenie Buys
My dearest Baby.