I’m excited (okay, fine, I’m nervous) to be sharing a piece I have on Mamalode today about living with postpartum depression after the birth of my first son today. I wanted to share because I feel like PPD is often portrayed as something that is the mother’s fault, like they are less of a mom for not enjoying motherhood more. But it simply isn’t true. PPD is no one’s fault, even though when you are in it, it doesn’t feel like that.
Eventually, I began to fall apart. Before I had children, being tired meant staying up late to finish a paper in school, or feeling run down from a mild illness. I had never experienced sleep deprivation for days, not to mention weeks, on end. Thoughts flowed through my head like a faucet I could not turn off. This was a mistake. This will never get better. I’m not a good mother. My body still ached from the birth, and my soul began to ache along with it. I was in love, but I could not stop crying.
Read the rest of the story on Mamalode. Spoiler alert: it gets better.