Monday, March 25, 2013

What's Next?

My husband sang in church on Sunday, and my mom purchased Liam a little matching outfit.  It was too much :)  I was just laughing all morning every time I looked at them together.  That daddy loves his little boy so much.  Next week for Easter, Liam has got seersucker with a bow tie.  That boy DOES know how to bring the fashion.  I was hoping I could find a bow tie for Andy as well.  We'll see. 'bout them Red Sox?

No, I'm just kidding.  Beating around the bush.  Avoiding the unavoidable.

I saw the doctor on Friday, and amidst my tears and sniffs, told her the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  The hallucinations.  The feelings of regret and depression.  And surprisingly, she didn't want to haul me off.  She didn't want to take Liam from me.  She didn't call me an unfit mother.  She just mentioned, quietly, that I should get some help, and she'd see me in two months.

She put me on a low does of an antidepressant.  She said it would help with the anxiety.  And then we started to discuss therapy options.  I called the number she gave me and set something up for tomorrow evening.

I think people- women- have a hard time coming forward about this.  IF you would have spoken to me last year this time, and told me I'd be seeking help for PPD, I would have probably chuckled.  Just like if you told me I wouldn't be able to breastfeed.  I would have just laughed you off.  Because you literally think it will never happen to you. 

My husband is still in...denial?  Maybe?  When I told my mom she wasn't surprised.  When I told a few other friends, they stood with mouths agape.  "YOU?"  Yes, me.  I guess I put on a pretty good mask.  Maybe that's why when I told my husband his comment was, "Isn't it a little late for that?"  I answered, "Well, it can happen up to a year after birth." and finished up with, "I haven't been telling you about it."  On the scale of One to Dr. Phil, my husband does not rank high on the compassion scale.  There are times he decides how sick I am or how poorly I feel.  He doesn't see it that way, but I do.  Which is why I've kept a closed lip on my feelings, because I guess it felt like he couldn't do anything anyway.  He wasn't raised with compassion, so I can't expect him to turn it on when I need it.

I think women don't come forward because they're scared.  I think that women also feel like they're probably just tired.  Or probably just stressed.  Or probably just in need of a vacation.  And that could all be true!  But without a woman, the house falls apart.  Without the wife, things go undone.  Without the mom, issues go unresolved.  And I'm learning this.

So more as I journey.  More tomorrow.