My Struggle

I have a confession to make - I struggle with depression.

There I said it. I don't know why but I feel like this is something to be ashamed of, something I should keep to myself and not let anyone know about.  Well I am tired of keeping it to myself, and if I can let someone else out there know that it's okay if this is your struggle, then it's worth it.

Depression is something I have struggled with for all of my adult life so far, and I believe it will always be something that I have to address or control in some way. Most recently I have realized that the type of depression I have struggled with in the past (and I believe I would struggle with again) is post-partum depression. My depression was so deep with Bella that I was put on medication for it, and I am still on that medication today. It helps me, it balances my moods, and essentially does what my brain and my body cannot do without it. Yes you read that right, that means I was on an anti-depressant when I was pregnant with Brantley. That is a guilt I have struggled with on a completely different level. Brantley is safe and healthy and I don't regret my decision.

When bringing home a new baby, it doesn't take long to realize what is happening - change. Everything is changing. Ultimately in the long run, it is for the better, but it's hard to see that at 3 am when you haven't slept in what feels like days and you don't remember the last conversation you had with your husband that wasn't about your kids.

In those moments, with both of my sweet babies, I have felt sadness. I have felt panic, fear, guilt, and I mourn the loss of my old life. With Bella I felt like we hadn't had enough time to just be married, that now we had this whole other little life depending on us and it would never, as long as we live, just be me and Joe ever again. You may be thinking "why didn't you think of that before?" or "why didn't that occur to you while you were pregnant?" and I did think of it, and it did occur to me.  But it hit me straight in the face when I was holding my colic-y newborn and crying myself that this was my life now.

With Brantley, I know those days are short. I know this newborn phase (which I'm being honest, is not my favorite baby phase) will pass and - dare I say it - I will miss him being tiny and cuddly and warm and all of his newborn baby noises. There is comfort in knowing for sure that "this too shall pass." So with Brantley I would say the depression I have felt is different. But mourning the loss of my old life just the same. Mostly so far (in these short six days) I have felt so much guilt towards my sweet Bella. She is only 26 months old! Barely 2! and here I am uprooting her whole world. She has to share her mommy and daddy. I have cried and cried for her, hating that I can't come to her room and play in her castle everytime she wants, hating that she is leaning and growing closer and closer to her daddy and I feel like farther and farther from me. Because I feed the baby! Brantley and I are attached and I can't do as much with my girl because I am taking care of my sweet baby boy. I am sad over the days that will no longer be. The days of just Joe, Bella, and me are gone. And I loved those days. I love my baby crawling into bed with us almost every single morning and I hate that now I have to tell her to whisper because the baby is next to me, asleep. I just want her to know how much I love her and that this baby brother of hers is a blessing. I hate that she is jealous and sad and confused. It hurts my heart.

I know my babies are a blessing and I thank God for them everyday. I hope no one who reads this thinks otherwise. I just had to get this out there because I know in my heart it is so normal and natural to feel this way. I am spending a lot of my days crying, trying to sleep, and feeding my baby, while my big baby is at school or with her daddy or with her grandparents. It is a hard transition and right now I am really missing one on one time with my husband. But I know that it won't be like this for long, and this phase will be a distant, bittersweet memory.

It is tough being a mother. In so many more ways than any book or person can tell you. You love them so much you can't contain it, but that love does not come without sad feelings. And I just needed to write mine down.