I have been sitting at my computer for almost an hour now, wasting time on facebook, and reading other blogs. Baby J is sleeping, and I am still in my pjs. I have a million things swirling around in my head.
Here is the big one: Postpartum Depression.
It has hit hard. Harder perhaps than the past. I had it after I had Blondie.
I stopped taking the mini pill (nursing birth control pills) because I'm thinking it could be part of why I feel like this.
I feel angry a lot of the time. I feel overwhelmed most of the time. But those two sentences don't even come close to how I really feel. I mean, it would give me great pleasure to hurl all my non polish pottery breakables into the wall and listen with satisfaction at the sound of them shattering. Does that sound crazy?
I tore quite badly. When I went to my follow up visit, as the doctor is looking between my legs, he starts telling me how worried he was about how I would heal, since my tears were very irregular, but that he is so pleased that things look so good. Um, really? You couldn't have waited until you were looking at ME in the face? And then asked if I had intercourse yet. Um, NO! Then he starts going into how husbands need it to feel loved and it's so important, and how he wants to know if there are any issues down there that need to be fixed so it's really important.....AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! Are you freaking kidding me?? So, on top of laundry, dishes, general housecleaning, getting kids to school and back, homework, meals, being up at least once a night and usually twice, taking a shower, trying to exercise, taking care of an infant, I'm supposed to find energy for that? I bet if my doctor had been 30 years younger I would not have had to hear the whole 'husbands feel love from sex' line. Probably still would have been asked, but without all the baggage. Thanks dude. And then I tell him I'm pretty sure I have postpartum depression. He has called twice to make sure I go to behavioral health. Um, the week he called my kids were out of school for two days, then the following week my parents were going to be in town. I don't have time! I can't even get the laundry done in a timely manner, and I am supposed to go to behavioral health?? Yes, I probably should. Just not the right week to do it.
To sum it all up, my mental state is a wreck. My house is a wreck. I can't get rid of the 30 extra pounds that this pregnancy has left me. And to make things even better, the worst holiday of the year is this Sunday. I think I won't be making it to sacrament meeting.
