I did some reading back in my blog. One of the last few posts I left off wondering if I was going through postpartum depression. Now I fully remember why I stopped the blog pretty much. My little dandy blessed life hit me in the face. I had issues. Issues I did not like or care to admit to anyone. Just select few. And when I say few I think maybe 2 people. My sister and my husband. It was a dark place. I always thought PPD was where you laid in bed all day (or wanted to) you never smiled, you didn't like your kids, etc. I know. I was dumb. Mine was give me an excuse to blow cause I am gonna blow anyway. I tried the whole "go in the other room and count to 10". That made me blow harder. Laila and I were at each others throats. I honestly thought I was going to hurt her something awful and not be allowed to be her mommy anymore. There. I said it. I admitted to blog land what I only somewhat admitted to my husband. In the dark. Through my tears. I was going to crack and my whole world I have lived for was going to come shattering down on me. I wasn't like that all the time. And to be honest Laila pushed my buttons a lot. I know many of you are like "what?! Laila? Really?!" Yes, my sweet shy girl can come unhinged too! Only she became unhinged and I exploded. Which made her explode which made it awful. I made an appointment with my midwife. I pondered what I wanted to come of that appointment. It came down to for once in my life I wanted drugs. Not that that is the easy way out, but I wanted her to sign me over an RX, go against all my beliefs of natural is best, and drug me up. I couldn't stand myself any more way too often than I cared to admit. Well the midwife wasn't having it. I walked out of there grateful actually. I was supposed to workout, take specific vitamins, read the book "Raising the Strong Willed Child", and see a psychiatrist. Well that was too much $$ and I never got around to getting the book so I did the other three things. Well, when I worked out the kids needed me. That works for every mom, right? Want your kids attention? Go workout. Want the kids to be hungry? Go workout. Want them to fight with each other? Go workout. So then I just got frustrated even more. So fast-forward a little bit. I go to a regular OBGYN to get my tubes tied, burnt, wrestled down in a choke hold. Whatever it took. No. More. babies. He's coaxing me: "Are you sure? Girl and boy? What about....-" I interrupt him. "Fragile X sir. I am a carrier of fragile X". "Oh" big red "approved" across my chart. Now we're talking. So by the way doc, I am going insane. I want to rip my daughters hair out. Can I have drugs? Get a RX for Xanax. I felt like a kid in the candy store. I go home and can't wait to try them out!! It was only days. It was Curt this time. Only he has no hair for me to rip out so I was yelling obscenities to him from the back porch to his garage. Those that know our house know my voice needed to be kinda loud. Yes, I have checked. Our neighbors still love us. So, I go to take my "happy pill". I am standing there as if I am going to see rainbows shoot across the kitchen and flowers pop up and sway in the wind. Nothing. I go sit on the porch. Steaming mad still. Probably sending dirty looks towards the garage. Then it hits me. I can barely keep my eyes open. I am still raving pissed, but too darn tired to do anything about it! Which pisses me off even more, but I am still too tired to do anything about it. I fall asleep. Wake up still pissed but tired and annoyed at my "candy". Ugh (but they were AWESOME for the trip to Vegas where I needed to be just knocked the F out before I screamed "we are ALL GONNA DIE IN A PLANE CRASH" while on the plane). So no candyland fix for me.
But in that moment it hit me. Okay, maybe it was weeks later, but soon after, it hit me. I am doing this. I can fix this. It is just me and I am at the breaking point of full blown losing Laila. Losing whatever relationship I have with her cause she is going to hate me for the rest of my life. It was like a snap. I don't know if it was about to end anyway. A combination of tried and fail of one medicine or whatever. Do I think all women who suffer with PPD can pull themselves out of it? No way. But I do feel in this society we are quick to medicate. That is not the thing for me and luckily for me it worked! I somehow pulled myself together pretty well when I needed too and for some reason it was like laila and I had a silent bond. We just clicked again. We were easier on each other. We had more patience. So I guess I can't take all the credit. She's pretty strong herself :)
Do I still yell? Oh yeah. But it's controlled yelling ;) And I don't feel like I am turning green, with horns coming out of my head, and snarly teeth complete with claws like I did on those scary scary moments. Moments I still shudder thinking about. Moments that I am forever ashamed to admit I ever visited. But you learn from your past. Laila and I both did. She has the mommy she deserves now and I am forever grateful for her patience and forgiving love.