I had the opportunity this weekend to retell the story of my experience with postpartum depression/OCD. Even though it has been six years, it astounded me how the feelings rise up and bubble over — it surprised me that I cried. I guess it just goes to show what an intense and indelible experience PPD is for everyone who goes through it. It also served to remind me how different I am today than I was during those dark hours.

I am so unbelievably happy to be a mom. It is truly the best job I’ve ever had or will have. My children are my oxygen. Is it easy every day? Of course not. When my 20-month old decides to remove her diaper and spread its contents around her crib, I pray for mercy. When they throw tantrums in public, I want to tell onlookers that they don’t belong to me. But then my funny little six-year-old tells me "Mom, just five more gallons and I’ll be as tall as you", and I feel like the luckiest, happiest person in the world.

For those of you reading this who are going through postpartum depression right now I hope you can find some hope in that. I went from being someone who thought I never should have been a mother, to being someone who delights in motherhood. You will too.