Reflection

This picture will always be one of my favorites, but not for the reasons you might think. I was smack dab in the middle of the absolute worst time of my life, just trying to put on a smile for these three little people that were and are still much more important than me.

Nanna was only 2 months old, Luca 16 months, and Anthoni was 8. My body felt ravaged, like it had been pregnant for nearly two years straight and my mind was going downhill. Fast. 

I was so alone. Covered with kids at all times, but more alone than I have ever felt. It did not make sense. It’s the part of motherhood that no one tells you about. You give up your own identity in order to raise a new one.

I knew what depression was. I had dealt with it since my teenage years, so that was nothing new. Postpartum depression was a much deeper hole. I was supposed to be so overwhelmed with love for these little people that nothing else mattered.

Who cares if I hadn’t taken a shower in 4 days or slept more than thirty consecutive minutes at a time for months on end. I had breast feeding to do and diapers to change. I had a house to maintain and a nonexistent husband to try and please just enough so that he wouldn’t run away from my miserable ass.

I was made to feel inadequate, both as a woman and as a mother. “My mom stayed at home with the kids, why can’t you?” danced in my head as I tried desperately to figure that out about myself. Why can’t I? Because I was not his goddamned mother and I should have never been compared to her in this way.

I did not get to enjoy my baby girl. I feel like I missed her first two years because of this darkness. It’s all just a filthy blur. I can’t even get any of that back, but what I can do is talk about it so that other mommies can recognize my pain within themselves. 

Actively get help for yourself. Talk and listen to women that have been there before you. It took therapy and medication to get me into the right frame of mind. Be kind to yourself and know that it will not always be so difficult, but it will always be worth it.

I can look at this picture as see how far I have come. There is still bitterness, but there is not this endless hollow of darkness to float in anymore. It’s like I walk on top of it now. Postpartum reflection.