An entry from my journal, while going through postpartum depression:
written on march 6, 2011:
It's been too long since I've written last and it frustrates me that I haven't had time. I want to be able to write down all my thoughts everyday, but I haven't gotten a chance. Between Emmalyn and all the [marriage] celebration commotion, I've had a lot going on. Oh, and let's not forget trying to find a house to rent. This would be a lot for anyone to handle, but throw in Postpartum Depression--sheesh!
I was in such a funk today. I'm just so frustrated with planning the celebration. It's in two weeks! I really just want to cry about it, but my medicine is preventing me from doing so. (I guess it's doing it's job then, huh?!) I want to be able to enjoy and cherish this moment in my life, especially since my grandma is coming down and has yet to meet Emmalyn. I don't want to let everything else get to me.
I'm super appreciative of my mom, who has gone above and beyond. On top of working full-time, she's helping me with Emmy and the party plans. I am so grateful for her. A part of me wants to freeze time and soak up all the moments--all the way to its marrow; but the other part of me can't wait until it's all over and I can move on with life.
Today was sort of a waste of a day. I felt sorry for myself all day and I allowed myself to do so. I knew I shouldn't, but I desperately wanted someone to hold me and tell me it was all going to work out and be all right. I wanted someone to validate my feelings. But that didn't happen--at least not at that particular moment. I kept waiting for someone to hold me, and when no one did... I just fell more into a funk.
On the bright side, Emmy keeps me going. And I appreciate that. Once Em woke up from her morning nap (ehem... 1pm), I finally rolled out of bed. I fed Emmy, ate lunch, and then went for a drive through a prospective rental neighborhood. When I cam back home my mom and I went up to the mall. After the funky day I had, I was craving a mile-run.
I miss B so much, but I don't regret what has happened. I'm a much different person--and while I'm still recovering, I like where I'm headed.
To read more about my postpartum depression experience, click here.