PostPartum

Congratulations! You have a beautiful, 8 pound 1.1 ounce baby girl!

*slap* Reality just hit you in the face. You just birthed your baby. Could be your first, second, third, etc. You just brought one of life’s most brightly gifts into this world.

A gift of life that will change your family. You will take her home to meet her brand new family — brother and sister, grandpas, grandmas, aunts/uncles, cousins, pets, everyone.

It’s your first night with her, still in the hospital, the adrenaline has yet to calm down and you are still so excited.

6:00 PM you make those FaceTime calls to show her off.

8:00 PM you post her on all of your social medias.

10:00 PM you decide to call your other kids and wish them goodnight although you know you won’t be falling asleep anytime soon.

11:00 PM they whisk her away to do evaluations on her.

11:20 PM they inform you that her blood sugar is relatively low and it would help to give her a bottle of formula because your milk hasn’t come in yet. You agree and go on. What will one bottle hurt?

1:00 AM you finally get her back and you can feed her and drift off to sleep.

1:30 AM you get up, bleeding everywhere and in pain but adrenaline is still making an appearance.

3:00 AM she’s awake to eat again. Your partner lying there sound asleep while you spend these precious moments with her.

6:00 AM shift changes. More nursing. Back for to sleep for rest.

8:00 AM let’s nurse again. Blood sugar is still down. Mom already said she could have a bottle last night so we will go ahead and do it again.

10:00 AM blood sugar will not stay elevated. More formula. Start pumping and feed to her too. Nurse as much as possible. Still in pain.

12:00 PM not going home today. Engorged breasts. More formula bottles. No more adrenaline. The hormones begin settling in.

1:00 PM more nursing. Tears begin flowing because you just feel like you’re a failure. Your partner sits and assures you that it’s all going to be okay.

Fast forward —2 more days. Finally — stable blood sugar and released from the hospital.

Nervous, scared, happy, sad. All of the emotions run wild throughout your body on that car ride home. At least your baby is content.

First night at home with brother and sister—not a piece of cake.

Painful, engorged breasts. Formula that you give alone with breast milk. After all we are entering a formula shortage and you know no one at the moment who could use it.

Spilled, golden milk. Unwashed bottles. Dirty diapers everywhere. This is your life for the next bit.

Home with a newborn and a toddler. Soon to be your oldest child when school lets out. Your partner must go back to work and you’ve not even figured out this stage of life yet.

3 weeks go by. You don’t go a day without crying. You open up to your husband about how much pain you are in. Your entire being is hurting. You’re to the point you just don’t want to do anything —not even nurse your baby. Breastfeeding is your entire life with your children. And now you don’t even want to do that. But you persevere and keep pushing.

3 week checkup comes and you have to take the PostPartum Depression test. You score a 14 — you have it.

Your doctor gives you the medicine that will work and assures you that you will get better.

You take it and some changes happen. That tiny little pill has everything in to help you balance those hormones and feel happier.

Why is this not talked about enough??

This is my story. It’s not as gruesome or appealing as others. But PPD is real guys! I remember distinctly looking at my husband and telling him I didn’t want to take care of this beautiful human being that I brought into this world. I remember telling him I wouldn’t survive this one. Thoughts going through my mind — I can’t take care of three baby’s, they are better off without me, dear god please help me be better.

So. Much. Prayer. And that tiny little pill saved me. There are still days that I feel at a low but I look at my kids and remember that they are happier with me around.

God gave me these three blessings because He knew that I needed them as much as they needed me.

PostPartum Depression is real. If you feel you are experiencing it or any depression at all, please reach out and talk to your doctor or family so you can get the help you need.

You’ve got this. 💕