I was a mess. I had
bravely stupidly weaned myself off my ppd medication and was having a major regression. It didn’t help that we had all been sick, perhaps we still were, and sleep was a luxury that never seem to come. My husband summed me up in one, very apt, word. Defeated. I looked it, I was exactly that. Defeated. Instead of enjoying the time off work, I longed to be back where I could be my “old” self. The week off was a blur, I remember silly details and thank God for photos and Facebook to recall what we did.
PPD robs you of the small things, and this was one of two Christmas’ I was robbed of.
This year though, I was blessed and felt well and enjoyed every moment. (Except the odd power struggle, sleep changes and the 3 hour car trip in the snow storm). Instead of looking for answers on my struggle, here I am sharing my experience, in the hope that it will reach someone who might be feeling like a shitty mom, who had a rough Christmas and wondering if it will ever get better.
It does, it can, it will.
Be kind to yourself