Just Breathe.

"You can do it."

That's what I've been telling myself for the last almost seven months. And truth is, I can do it. I just can't do it alone. I need help. 

Just like cancer, postpartum depression is an illness. A very serious illness that sometimes requires medication and therapy. Understanding that when you're the one suffering is the hard part. It's easy to struggle with feelings of inadequacy and shame. It's easy to let those feelings prevent you from seeking help. It's easy to wonder "what's wrong with me?" or "what will people think of me?" I know because I've been there. I am there. Struggling; just like you may be. I'm here to tell you that you're not the only one.

I am a first time mom to a beautiful, happy baby girl. There are two things that I wish I could have better prepared myself for before her arrival. Those two things are: coping with the amount of love I would feel for her and of course, the exhaustion. I'm sure you are wondering what I mean when I say, "...coping with the amount of love I feel for her..." and I'm not sure that is even the way I want to word what I am trying to say so I will try to explain. To make a long story short, I am naturally a worrier. I always have been and unfortunately probably always will be. I also have a very high needs baby. My worrying mixed with her health issues is the perfect recipe for a mental disaster. I obsess over her well-being. In every way possible, I want to ensure that she is going to be okay and I would do anything, literally anything, for my little girl. My body is mentally and physically exhausted from this. But I can't stop. I don't know how. I have completely frazzled myself to pieces. But like many of you, to a strangers eye, you would probably never know. It's become easy to hide behind my exhaustion, my fears, my worries, and my sadness. But it's not solving anything. None of it is going away. It's right there in front of me.

Today was my breaking point. My "I need help" day. I got up with my daughter and just like every other day, I faced our every day issues. Except this time, it was different. I couldn't do it. I couldn't deal with it anymore. If I were a drinking glass, you would have found me shattered on the floor into a million pieces. I took a deep breath and did what I had put off for so long. I picked up the phone, called my doctors office, and said the dreaded words, "I need help with postpartum depression." They squeezed me into their schedule, I talked with my doctor, and within a half hour, I had what will hopefully be a successful plan to recovery; A prescription to Zoloft that will help me calm down and effectively deal with my struggles when they occur instead of completely breaking down and being unable to find a solution and a weekly appointment with a therapist. It's just the beginning of my road to recovery but it's something. I took my first steps and for the first time in months, I have hope. I no longer feel ashamed or embarrassed because this is me and this is who I am. I am a wonderful mother to my daughter. My illness doesn't change that and it won't define who I am.

Below is a link to an online PPD support page but I also encourage you to talk with family, friends, a therapist, and especially your doctor if you feel you may be struggling with this as well. You are not alone and you don't have to go through this alone. 

http://www.ppdsupportpage.com/