Becoming Mother; part 2

Well, it’s official. I am a mom now. My baby girl is nearing 9 months already and I still cannot believe she’s here.

Over time, I’ve learned the importance of knowing my identity. It’s something I need in order to know my sense of self. It not only gives me clarity, but it gives me stability.

And when one thing is misaligned, everything feels so chaotic.

Coming to terms with my identity has been an uphill battle, especially when it’s combined with depression.

In 2022, I finally understood my purpose and my identity and it was the most freeing feeling I’ve ever experienced, then I found out I was pregnant—it was planned of course and we were thrilled—but, about halfway into pregnancy, I realized my role was transitioning yet again. So it made sense that I’d be anxious for my mental health postpartum.

And in just a few short weeks after giving birth, I was hit with it in the most intense way imaginable.

Any kind of depression is heavy and all-consuming, but, for me, postpartum depression (PPD) magnified all my previous issues plus increased feelings of sadness, worthlessness, and hopelessness.

In all my years of on and off depression and anxiety, never have I ever experienced a depression as dreadfully overwhelming as postpartum depression.

Not only was I going through the thick of it all, I had a newborn to take care of whose sole existence depended on me. Prior to motherhood, I’d check out and binge watch TV till I couldn’t binge watch anymore and the only way to move past it was to focus on the hard stuff, which for me involved A LOT of self-reflecting and A LOT of alone me-time. With PPD, I’m overstimulated and overwhelmed. There’s so much to do and so much to take care of, but so very little time for yourself.

The thing about it, though, is I was in half-denial I had PPD because I still experienced joy and I have so much love for my daughter that my heart could explode. And I mistook it as baby blues, thinking it would go away.

But I would have these heartbreaking crying spells and it was too overwhelming I thought I might actually do it (commit suicide). The thoughts were the worst part of it and the indecisiveness too. The thing that shook me was when my husband asked/told me to do something I wanted to do and I couldn’t for the life of me think of anything I truly wanted to do that wasn’t death related. I didn’t have any life left in me to do anything that I’ve enjoyed doing previously and that’s the scariest part of all–knowing nothing that you’ve usually done in the past to bring about your joy just wasn’t there anymore. That’s how you know you’re in deep.

I knew that life would be different, so I planned on making my baby the priority and putting her needs before my own during this first year with her, but I didn’t account for how much my lack of self-identity would impact my experience with her. And self-care is a big factor into my identity.

Like I said in my previous post, I want to be my own person too aside from just being a mother. Yet, somewhere between that post and the nearly six months of my daughter’s existence, I neglected all of my personal needs to be there for her draining me from my very own joy.

Now that I’m a mom, facing the darkness is even more challenging because I have this tiny human who completely depends on me to survive. What I’ve done in the past won’t work for me now. I can’t exactly hide away from the world or put in that amount of work I would normally do to help me get out of the hole.

It took me awhile to find a therapist because I didn’t have the energy or the time to do so. Everything was just too overwhelming and I was overstimulated. It didn’t help that the help I thought I was going to receive after my husband returned to work full time fell through the third week of her life. So on top of everything, I was physically alone and at times, emotionally alone too (aside from my husband, who has been amazing throughout this whole process).

I’ve experienced a rollercoaster of emotions before, but PPD hits different. I experience the joy and the deep sadness. I feel a bit out of control at times because my mood swings from joy to omg-wtf-do-you-want?! make it harder to understand what my baby needed.

It’s actually way more than just feed and change. There’s gas, overtired, uncomfortable, and the list goes on. It’s like you’re a secret agent trying to decipher a code without the key.

I thought I was getting better, then it hit like rip currents, pulling me in deeper and causing me to drown. It was so overwhelming that I decided to get on antidepressants. At that point, I’d try anything.

Now, I am feeling better. Doing better. And all around feeling more like myself again with some pretty amazing improvements. I’m basically a superhero (especially on the good days when I give myself credit).

Being a mother is no easy feat and I am quickly learning a lot about myself as well as my daughter. Since she’s getting closer to a year old and I’ve learned just about all my baby’s cues, I am thoroughly enjoying spending time with her while being super aware that I need time for myself: mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Yes, back to that Quad Health Components reference.

I regained a little piece of my sanity back once we transferred her to her nursery (around the 6-month mark) instead of the bassinet/mini crib in our bedroom. We still primarily do contact naps in the daytime, but at least she is now “sleeping through the night”.

Now, all I gotta do is make time for the things that fill my cup. Like blogging for instance and actually posting stuff I’ve drafted already instead of waiting around for nothing. If only, I can get that motivation to quit procrastinating on my novel. Then, I think I’d really be soaring.

Until next time,
rebeccanne ❤