Sunday, 14 June 2009
by Mama Elephant
I have suffered from depression for most of my life. I have sought help for it off and on through much of my adult life. I haven't needed treatment in four years and when my OB and the hospital Social Worker grilled me on Postpartum Depression, I nodded my head while pretending to listen and assured them I was fine. Of course I was fine, I had delivered less than 48 hours prior...I was still pretty out of it from all the meds for my blood pressure and painkillers for the C-Section. After all, the two years after Alex was born were the happiest of my life...poo poo on the PPD! I am not nodding my head now.
My darling Leyla has been with us for almost 6 weeks. Things started out great with my husband and I working as a solid team. Then he was switched back to the night shift and Leyla decided that would be her difficult time of the day. Since then, my husband has tried to help but I am afraid he is as exhausted as I am and isn't much help. My mom, who volunteered to fly out and visit as soon as her granddaughter was born has come up with every excuse in the book to NOT visit. I even offered to buy her plane ticket. NOPE. There is always a reason and they are always stupid. I am waiting for her to claim that she is waiting for Chicago's swine flu problem to lighten up. I think I have finally written her off. I just can't take anymore of her bullshit empty promises and her issues with not letting go of a delusional past.
My son finally got an appointment with the only pediatric orthopedic surgeon on our insurance list and it is as we feared. He has a bone deformity in his femur and tibia and will require surgery. We are looking at doing that next week while he is out of school for two weeks of summer vacation. I also haven't spent more than five minutes with him since Leyla was born...enter UBER amounts of crappy mom guilt.
My mother in a law and brother in law (he also has Autism, like my Alex) are flying in tomorrow for a week long visit. Guess who isn't her favorite daughter in law? My husband was only able to procure one day off while she is here so guess who gets to bear the brunt of that visit?
Enter the depression. Is it PPD or is it just my regular depression popping up to make me feel like a crappy mom? I haven't spent any time, much less quality time with my son and I cry damn near every time I pick my daughter up. Did I mention the guilt I have over HATING breast feeding? Yeah, I really hate it but I guess that is a topic for another blog.
I have a late 6 week postpartum checkup on Tuesday and I will be bringing up the PPD/regular depression topic immediately. It is time to admit that I need help and ask for the Zoloft.
Do you find it difficult seeking help when you need it?