After seeing my therapist this past week, she gave me a book to read: “This Isn’t What I Expected“. I looked at her and asked, “so that is what these feelings are?” Because even though I’ve had my suspicions for the past little while, I was afraid to assume I was dealing with postpartum depression and not just my usual cocktail of mood disorders.

Turns out, my hunch was right all along. I started reading the book during one of Lucas’s naps, and when I got to the checklist of diagnostic criteria, I checked all but one of the items on the list. It’s weird to me because I absolutely love Lucas and love being his mother. He fills me with a sense of amazement and this overwhelming love that I never expected could be quite so strong. But I still feel frustrated, like I’m failing horribly.

I have a hard time getting my feelings out, too, because I’m so conflicted. It’s almost all internal stuff – I thought I would be able to clean more and cook more and spend more time doing things that didn’t involve nursing and napping, and then I wonder why other women can do it when I’m obviously not able to. Right now, while I sort out my feelings, I’m focused on nothing but keeping Lucas happy and healthy.

Let’s face it – if there’s anything that can pull me out of the pit of depression on a particularly dark day, it’s the smile and giggle my little man gives me when he spots me from across the room. Depression or not, I’m madly in love.

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