Through The Fog

don't let it creep in on you and try to manage it on your own

Its foggy outside today.  Where I live, its never foggy very often and so its odd and notable to see the mist hanging there in mid air. There have been a few times already today where I’ve glanced outside while passing by a window and actually stopped for a moment to keep looking.  No real tangible thoughts occurred to me when I stood there, but I stood for a pause nevertheless. 

Charlie had a really long sleep today and instead of the regular chores or movie watching, I decided I’d reflect on being a mom.  Maybe I’m dried up on unique topics for my “mom blog”.  I don’t know.  But ever since watching the tear-jerking film, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, based on the novel of the same name by Jonathan Safran Foer, I’ve been ruminating on that vital parent-child bond.   Today I thought a lot about the events or things about becoming a mother that have left me changed and the things that have bonded me to my son.  I tried hard to define motherhood (and parenthood and dependency and responsibility).  To express the epic change that occurs when you bring someone into the world.  I thought of many images and metaphors, but what I realized beyond anything poetic, artistic or with a writer’s sensibility is that I experienced for the first time in my life, real mccoy depression.  Post-partum depression, baby blues, whatever you’d like to call it.  I think the majority of it is over now, I’m “through the fog”, but sometimes, on days like this, due to pathetic fallacy I guess, little whispers of it creep back.

For those of you who have depression on a good day versus a sleep-deprived, hormonal rampage one, well, I guess this post is pretty empty for you (or maybe not).  I’m not looking for sympathy and I certainly don’t feel sorry for myself.  I’m writing as an open confession (though confession seems like the wrong word for talking about depression - it assumes there is some shame there - which there isn’t) maybe an open letter is a better way to express it.  

Before I was married and had Charlie, when I was in high school, I babysat a lot.  This one family had three kids and seemed pretty perfect from the outside.  I used to watch crap tv when the kids went to sleep, but one time I noticed on the book shelf Down Came The Rain by Brooke Shields.  “Maybe their mom isn’t so perfect.” I judged.  I read the entire book over the next 3 babysitting jobs.  I was far away from having a baby and yet I, for some reason, was interested in it.  After I had Charlie I was in a fog.  A thick one.  I couldn’t even see what, for those close to me, was as plain as day: I was majorly depressed.  It took me about 6-7 months of suffering before I went to my family doctor who referred me to a mental health specialist.  I was afraid to go.  I thought, this isn’t depression, I’m just tired.  I’m just bitchy and sore and frustrated.  But, when I went, she administered the Edinburgh Post-Natal Depression Scale/Test and told me that, yup, I needed some help.  I didn’t feel like I loved Charlie.  I wanted to.  I knew that I should, but I was too overwhelmed and sad to feel that emotion.  To love anything frankly, even things I used to love.  Before.  

But now I feel pretty darn great.  I didn’t need medication (though I would have taken it if the doctor recommended it), but I started blogging and journaling and telling people about it.  I connected to other moms and felt better.  I wasn’t alone.  I also started to notice how Charlie was becoming more independent.  I stopped nursing.  He slept through the night.  He started to engage and be more responsive.  He started developing more of a personality.  I started to feel myself enjoying him and loving him and feel more natural as a mom.  I’m more lighthearted and don’t feel so anxious about things.  I don’t always worry or blame myself if things don’t go exactly as planned.  I don’t cry at the drop of a hat.  I sleep better and if the chores are piling up, I usually just do them one at a time instead of thinking of them as this giant, unachievable mountain of a to-do list.

Now, when I hear Charlie wake up from his nap, I don’t feel heavy or panicky that he’s awake.  I feel excited to play with him and see the world through fresh eyes.

http://www.helpformom.ca

http://www.lifewithnewbaby.ca