Postpartum: High Highs and Low Lows
I don't know about you but through the holidays I was living off of pure adrenaline. Not to mention my doctor upped my Zoloft to 150 mg.
I rocked it for about a week and a half. I felt great. I enjoyed Christmas, then had no problem preparing for my daughter turning 3 and the New Year. I was smiling, happy, and getting things accomplished. If you suffer from PPD or know someone who is or has, you know that all those things, although usually come natural, are a struggle.
My husband was thrilled. He had his wife back! There was a light at the end of the very long tunnel. Then it all was dark again.
You could imagine his surprise when this past weekend I crashed. Not only did I crash, I crashed hard. I am sure that most people crash a little after all the holiday hoopla, but I am pretty sure they can at least manage to get out of bed in the morning.
I tried, I really did. In my head I was telling myself, "Snap out of it! Get up and enjoy your family!" I couldn't. The only thing I could muster the energy to do was lay in bed and stay in my pajamas all day.
I take that back. After my husband gave me the third degree about staying in bed, I forced myself to get up, shower, and try to do something...around 2 p.m. So, I took a bike ride with the kids and then afterwards sat outside to read a book.
The thing is, I hated that all I wanted to do was stay in bed, but the alternative felt way too overwhelming. Paralyzing almost. I couldn't explain it to my husband either. He asked me what was going on and said I was doing so good. He was so frustrated.
I could see the defeat in his eyes. Men always want to fix things, it is in their nature, but he couldn't fix me. He hasn't been able to for 10 months now. I am sure it is exhausting worrying about me everyday. Wondering if today was going to be a good day or not. Thinking about the times I couldn't make it through the day. Hoping that I wouldn't break. Not to mention also trying to provide for the family.
Sunday was the same thing. I was tired. I managed to make it to church, but hit the bed as soon as I could get the chance. Which happened to be nap time for my daughter, Bryn. When I woke up from a 2 hour nap, this is what I saw.
She took my breath away. Suddenly, I was able to see clearly through the fog.
I rocked it for about a week and a half. I felt great. I enjoyed Christmas, then had no problem preparing for my daughter turning 3 and the New Year. I was smiling, happy, and getting things accomplished. If you suffer from PPD or know someone who is or has, you know that all those things, although usually come natural, are a struggle.
My husband was thrilled. He had his wife back! There was a light at the end of the very long tunnel. Then it all was dark again.
You could imagine his surprise when this past weekend I crashed. Not only did I crash, I crashed hard. I am sure that most people crash a little after all the holiday hoopla, but I am pretty sure they can at least manage to get out of bed in the morning.
I tried, I really did. In my head I was telling myself, "Snap out of it! Get up and enjoy your family!" I couldn't. The only thing I could muster the energy to do was lay in bed and stay in my pajamas all day.
I take that back. After my husband gave me the third degree about staying in bed, I forced myself to get up, shower, and try to do something...around 2 p.m. So, I took a bike ride with the kids and then afterwards sat outside to read a book.
The thing is, I hated that all I wanted to do was stay in bed, but the alternative felt way too overwhelming. Paralyzing almost. I couldn't explain it to my husband either. He asked me what was going on and said I was doing so good. He was so frustrated.
I could see the defeat in his eyes. Men always want to fix things, it is in their nature, but he couldn't fix me. He hasn't been able to for 10 months now. I am sure it is exhausting worrying about me everyday. Wondering if today was going to be a good day or not. Thinking about the times I couldn't make it through the day. Hoping that I wouldn't break. Not to mention also trying to provide for the family.
Sunday was the same thing. I was tired. I managed to make it to church, but hit the bed as soon as I could get the chance. Which happened to be nap time for my daughter, Bryn. When I woke up from a 2 hour nap, this is what I saw.
She took my breath away. Suddenly, I was able to see clearly through the fog.
Comments
Post a Comment