Postpartum Depressionđź’”

This photo is a throwback so raw to me as it is a glimpse into the reality I felt everyday after having my daughter. Defeated. I had so many expectations as to what I would be and how I would feel as a new mother.


Wow, was I in for a rude awakening.


I remember when they sent us home Erik and I looked at each other like, “How could they just send her home with us? It’s only been 24 hours!?”


A couple days later, I had almost lost my Mother. The only support outside of Erik, I was depending on. The only person I wanted to ask every question about everything she did for me when I was a baby because Lord knows, I had no idea what I was doing. She almost died….and I had no idea if I’d ever talk to her again. No idea if Aurora was going to know who her Grandmother was. It was weeks before I was able to see or even talk to her because as much as I needed my mom, my daughter needed me.


I wanted so badly to enjoy these moments home with our newest addition but the enemy was so determined to take that away from me.


Aurora never stopped crying and it turned out she was colicky. So, no matter what I did, I couldn’t even comfort my own daughter.


Breastfeeding wasn’t easy, either. My supply was fine but she fought me. I had to bounce and pat her butt WHILE feeding her, just to get her to eat. I was told to just give up and give her formula but as a first time mom, I had SO many expectations for myself that I was determined to be able to feed my baby.


When Erik went back to work, I felt so alone. He left before the sun came up and would get home after it set. As sleep deprived as I was, I didn’t want to wake him in the middle of the night because I needed to know that he’d be rested and coming home safely to us the next day.


So silently, I resented his position. It wasn’t his fault. He was nothing short of helpful when he was able. I just wanted a break. I wanted to be able to go to work everyday and have a moment to myself. A moment for my thoughts without my daughter screaming, inconsolably in my ear.


I was filled with this guilt because I wasn’t this happy new mom that I was so convinced I would be and I didn’t want anyone to know that I was questioning my role and ability to be a Mother.


Postpartum is real and for the sake of my husband and daughter, after months of fighting it, I finally decided to swallow my pride and get some help.


Now, when I look back at this photo, I see a truth that I wasn’t able to in this moment. As I sat there feeling alone, I wasn’t. God gave me my husband for a reason. He was my rock. He was kind, patient and understanding. He was gracious to me when I was ugly to him. He was there all along.


While the first few months of her life were trying, I made it through. Aurora outgrew her colic, she knows who her Grandma is and I absolutely love being her Mother...and instead of her inconsolable tears, I now get to cherish every belly laugh on the floor each night as she plays with her Daddy.



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