This is the story of how I went from surviving to thriving.
When I first decided to become a mom, there was a part of me that naively thought it would all be rainbows and butterflies. I couldn't wait to be that glowy pregnant woman in overalls, that I had seen depicted in movies.
Instead, I was extremely ill the first, wait, most of my pregnancy, I had gestational diabetes, carpal tunnel, acid reflux, and I gained 70lbs. There was nothing "glowy" about my demeanor. I was miserable. Why don't we talk about this side of motherhood? The ugly and scary side. It definitely set me up for failure.
As a result, I started to feel like there was something wrong with me. I had friends that had children, and they didn't have all these ailments, or talked about them. They didn't feel doom and gloom. So, I smiled and kept quiet. I went along with the crowd and talked about how joyful it was, all the while I was slowly withering inside.
Then came the birth. I mean, do I even have to say anything else? It was hard, I labored for 48 hours and was inches aways from an emergency c-section. By the time I delivered, every ounce of reserve I had, was gone. Afterwards, I was sent home with our precious healthy baby boy. I was so happy, but there was a part of me that couldn't shake the baby blues. It seemed like my joy wasn't strong enough to clear the feelings I had of confusion, melancholy, and insecurity. Everything seemed hard. Yet, everybody seemed so eager to talk about joy and happiness, that I just couldn't find the courage to share the pain and overwhelmed I felt on a daily basis. I suffered in silence. It would be almost a year of suffering from Postpartum Depression before I shared it with anyone.
This was my induction into motherhood.