October was hard for me. From what I hear, I wasn’t alone.
And then there was a blood moon lunar eclipse on November 8. I don’t know about you, but I woke up with a sort of optimism that I hadn’t felt in awhile.
It was like a breath of fresh air.
Not gonna lie. I was worried there for a minute…
When I was pregnant with Caroline—roughly six years ago—I experienced depression. I would cry all of the time, worrying about how my older kids would be affected by this new baby and wondering how we would be able to financially support another child.
Unfortunately, it followed me into my postpartum period.
I felt guilty that I did not produce enough breastmilk to feed Caroline without the supplement of formula. And for weeks following birth, I suffered from unexplainable shooting pains, which created incredible discomfort in every position. And out of nowhere, I also experienced pain in my feet every time I would get up to walk. After a trip to the podiatrist, I learned that my metatarsals had collapsed.
I was struggling. I shut down.
I did not answer emails for weeks (or maybe at all). I let any freelance writing work that I had in process just slip away. I was unable to function beyond doing my best to take care of my family and myself from one minute to the next.
Thankfully, the postpartum depression did not affect my bonding with Caroline. And I never experienced it to that extent with any of my other children… until now.
While my pregnant depression years ago was sparked by various “what-ifs,” this time it’s fueled by burnout.
Although I started asking for help in various aspects of my life, I was/am still pushing myself more—physically, emotionally, and mentally—than I ever have during a pregnancy in the past.
With two younger children, it’s tough not to push yourself physically.
With two older children, it’s tough not to drain yourself mentally.
And with a partner out of town for stretches at a time, it’s tough not to completely lose it.
I lost it.
To be continued…