I remember my first day home like it was yesterday. I didn't even want to get out of bed that day. What was my new life going to look like? I decided I was gonna "fake it till I make it". I got up and got dressed and even put on a little bit of make up. I fed my boys breakfast even though I was so sick to my stomach I didn't eat. After breakfast then what? I got them up and put them in the play area of our family room. I tried playing with them but it just made me sad. I kept looking at my kids and thinking, this is my life now. Every time I looked at our newest edition, Noah, I felt so guilty. It was my job to take care of him and though I took (and continue to take) the best care of him I can, every time I looked at him I felt nothing. Not the bond that I felt with my other son, nothing that even remotely resembled that bond.
By the time it was nap time I was ready for a nap too. Everyone says, that you should sleep when the baby sleeps but that allowed me no time for anything else. When was I supposed to put the laundry away or clean the house? I decided to call my friend who I met through work who worked at a different location than I did. I cried and she listened. She told me not to worry, that eventually it would be ok. Would it? I didn't believe that. And even if it would eventually be ok, I wanted the OK feeling NOW.
Who was this new person? I didn't recognize myself. I think my job had allowed me to hide from these feelings since I didn't have to deal with my boys that much; just for a few hours each evening. Now, working from home, that identity was gone and I was left with me, the mother who didn't have an ounce of love for her newest son. And what does that say about me? I personally know tons of ladies who would do anything for the opportunity just to have one baby, here I have two, and though I know Im blessed I don't feel it.
So started my decent into full blown postpartum depression.....