Believe it or not, during the first two weeks of having Seth, my husband was home with me. Even with his support, I still felt like I could not handle everything. I was trying to nurse, so regardless of whether or not my husband was home, I still had to get up for every feeding. During the times that Seth would just stay up for hours and hours, my husband would stay up with him after I fed him, but I still could not sleep even though I would have had the opportunity.
I cried to my husband and dreaded him going back to work. I was so fearful that when he returned to work, I would never see him. I thought everything was going to be about Seth and because he was so demanding, there would be no time for us. I was so sad that I had chosen this for my life and I felt that my relationship with my husband would be over when he returned back to work. He had tons of sick and vacation time, so I begged and begged him to get another week off of work because I just felt that I could not handle everything. I was fearful of being with my son 24/7 and then losing my relationship with my husband. I felt like my son was such an intruder in my life. I resented him for changing everything. I resented him because I felt like he was the reason I was feeling so "crazy". I would look at my son with a blank stare and just wonder how in the world I was ever going to bond with him, take care of him, have a relationship with my husband, and eventually go back to work.
During this time I tried to put on a good motherly act. Not just for others, but for my son. I didn't want him to feel the effects of a mother who was completely dying inside. I would hold him and say the things that I thought a mother should say. I would smile at him and play with him, all the while, on the inside I wanted to escape. I wished for a way out. I would hear others make comments about how cute he was and how proud I must be. As I heard these comments, I cringed inside. I knew that was how I should be feeling, but instead I was having thoughts about how much I resented my son. I felt horrible about these thoughts. The guilt was overwhelming. I got to the point that I just wanted to leave and escape everything. As I had those thoughts, I began to remind myself that God was with me. I yearned to run to the alter and let my Lord wrap His arms around me. I knew if I could just make it to the altar, everything would be better.
My first church service back after having Seth was an eye-opener for some. I barely got myself ready for church. I didn't care what I looked like, I just wanted to be there. I felt tormented all of the time, so I just wanted to get to church because things would be better. As I entered the sanctuary, tons of people greeted me with hugs and support. I started crying the moment one of my sisters in Christ hugged me. I thought I would just drop to the floor and melt. The hugs continued and I could feel the support of others even though they had no idea what I was going through. During altar call, I made my way to the altar. I fell to the floor and pleaded to God. I wanted this to all go away. I knew I wanted my son, but everything else needed to go. I was sick of being emotional, crying, having horrible feelings and everything else--it just needed to go. Again, despite my pleadings, the thoughts, emotions, crying, and everything else did not just disappear. I left the altar feeling like I had support, but that was about all. I walked back to my pew and looked at Seth and just started crying. He was asleep (of course because it was daytime) and I wondered how on earth I would ever be the mom that God had called me to be if all I continued to feel was pain and sadness. As I left church that day, I remember just wanting to leave it all. I thought that my husband would be better off if I was gone. It wasn't fair to him to have to deal with me and all of my issues. I thought he and Seth would be happy without me. My husband was a very good dad. He was very attentive and could take care of Seth just as well as I could, so I figured, why do they need me? I opened up to my husband and told him how I was feeling. He kept telling me that they needed me and that I was a good mom. I was not convinced.
I felt like I was the weakest I had ever been in my life. I was counting down the days until my husband had to return to work, and I thought my life would end. This intruder, this small precious baby, was ruining my life. The guilt was more than I could take. I had so much guilt from everything I was feeling and thinking. How difficult it is to see such a beautiful, helpless baby and the first thing that comes to your mind is, "why are you here, why did I do this". Every time I had negative thoughts about my baby and about being a mom (which was all of the time) I had tons of guilt. I felt so bad, and I had no idea how to change everything. Eventually my husband was able to get another week off of work. I was relieved for the first few days, but then the countdown began again. How was I ever going to do this?
Throughout those first 3 weeks, my husband tried to get me out of the house and doing other things. I was so filled with anxiety that I didn't want to be gone for long. We would take car rides and I would just stare out the window. Sometimes I really wasn't thinking about anything, just staring. Other times I was thinking about everything and wanting to run away. I would look over at Seth and tons of anxiety would rise up in me. He was peacefully asleep in his car seat. There were times I remember looking at him with so much anger. My husband would continue to say that things would get better. From where I was sitting, things never seemed like they would get better. My life would never be the same. This little life would always need me and I had no idea how I was going to survive the anxiety and stress of knowing that. I sat in the car unable to sit completely still due to the state of panic I was almost always in. I wanted to be normal, but I felt as far from normal as I could. Eventually the ride would end and we would go back home. I remember walking in the door and seeing all of the baby items strewn throughout the house. It was like a slap in the face, a knowing that this was never going to end.
Today I am still searching for the end to all of this. As you will see, things have gotten better, but not everything is fixed. Thankfully I know that "His strength is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor 12:10). I know that I am weak, but He is strong and He will continue to help me through.
hey Andrea, I have shared with you how the enemy tried to attack my mind by bring ppd on me. But I caught it before it happened. I am soo glad to know that you are doing better. Love you.
ReplyDeleteHi Shuwan, so good to hear from you! Thank God that you were able to catch it before it happened! I'm just trying to take one day at a time (which is hard for me, but that's what I have to do)! Thank you for the post and I love you too!
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