I just gave birth yesterday.
As they took Ducky away to get his vitals done I cannot rest. I am too elated to succumb to sleep just yet. Ask me tomorrow, and I will probably be regretting this. Also, I am pretty sure they will be bringing him back in a couple of minutes so I will probably be more productive writing than sleeping.
My excitement and joy is not just governed by the birth of my baby, or my ever-growing family. My happiness is brought by knowing that I most likely will not have postpartum depression. When I gave birth to my daughter last year I thought I knew what postpartum was. I was certain it meant you resented your child and could not take care of them. Well, I did not resent my daughter, and I could take care of her, so therefore I was fine. What I was not prepared for was that postpartum can often times emerge under different guises.
My postpartum came in the form of aspiring for perfection. I had an unrealistic image of what a mother and wife was supposed to be. Of course I fell short. Anyone would. The ideal was somewhere between a Stepford Wife, Mary Poppins and Heidi Klum. I might as well have tried morphing into the Easter Bunny while I was at it. Needless to say, placing such expectations on myself did not benefit anyone. Once reality started slowly sinking in I started viewing myself as incompetent and that is when the depression part began. My husband and I worked through it, but it was hard. In fact, the hardest part was considering post partum as an option and basically admitting that postpartum in itself meant I was not perfect.This time around I am not going to try winning any Mommy of the Year Awards. I am going to give it my all, and if I happen to be nominated for the Mommy Oscars in the process, then it can be the cherry on top of everything. Does this mean postpartum cannot manifest itself in yet another way this time around? Of course not, but I will cross that bridge when and if I get to it. For now, I am just going to enjoy being a mommy to my new baby boy, as well as my toddler daughter.
Did postpartum affect you?
For more opinions, visit Confessions from the Crib.