Postpartum Depression Demons Give Way to Love -postpartumprogress.com

A late summer night’s breeze passed through the nursery window, rattling the blinds. I held my breath, hoping that the noise didn’t wake the infant. I carefully turned my head and caught a glimpse of his pursed lips that had been whispering sweet breaths at the nape of my neck. His body curled perfectly upon my chest, as if my body was born molded for this exact moment.

The infant felt so trusting in my arms.

He on the other hand, felt so foreign in mine.

He was my son.

I was his mother.

And I didn’t want to be.

I spent many nights rocking with him in his room that was dimly lit by the lamp that I had excitedly picked out when he was just a peanut in my belly. I loved him then with his tiny kicks and his hiccups that would make my belly bounce. I loved him then when I saw his silhouette on the ultrasound monitor.

I loved him then when I was going to be a mom and experience all that Motherhood entailed.

And there I was, with my dream in my arms and all I wanted was to put him back in his crib, crawl out the nursery window, and run as far away from it.

I hated being a mom.

Every single night, until I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and postpartum anxiety, I thought of a million ways I could escape this life.

Of how I could escape him.

Now, 3 years later, I feel dirty for admitting this even though I know that it was the illness that made me think that way.

Postpartum depression swirled wicked demons in my mind that no mother should ever have to deal with. It stole that instant love I was supposed to have for my son and filled the shoes of motherhood with cement so that I couldn’t slip them on as easily as other mom’s do.

I had to fight and claw and scratch my way into them.

Each day as I worked at my recovery from postpartum depression, my role as a mom started to grow on me.

And I even started to like it.

Now motherhood is not defined by my illness. It won’t be defined by your illness either.

Postpartum Depression Demons Give Way to Love -postpartumprogress.com, photo of Kimberly Morand, authorIt’s about their giggles that fill your heart with happy.

It’s about the way they sneak up behind you and squeeze your leg when you least expect it.

It’s about their face lighting up when you walk into the room.

It’s about discovering the world again through their innocent eyes.

It’s about forgetting your inhibitions and getting down in the dirt to play “army men” just to see them smile.

It’s about creating memories that will fill their soul when they’re all grown.

It’s about being the only one in the world who can make a boo boo better.

It’s about sneaking into their room late at night to catch a glimpse of them sleeping.

It’s about the love that you thought you could never feel.

If I had to go through postpartum depression again I would because in the end, every single tear and heartache was completely worth it. Motherhood is the most wonderful job I’ve ever held.

And right now, as the sun breaks through the dark city horizon, my son is half awake with his body nuzzled perfectly into mine…

…as if my body was born molded for this exact moment.

If you are currently suffering from postpartum depression, I wanted to tell you that not loving your role as a mother does not make you a bad person. Even moms who don’t suffer from postpartum depression have a hard time transitioning into motherhood. Keep fighting with all you have because I promise you, it will all be worth it