Taboo Topic #1: Who's down with PPD…I guess maybe me?

So I have gone back and forth as to write about this. I know a blog is "supposed" to be an online diary but some subjects still seem a little taboo, like this one…the dreaded post partum depression (ppd). ok, so it sorta makes me feel like a crazy person for even saying that I have been dealing with ppd. No, I am not a stage 5 Bay Bridge clinger but certainly past the "baby blues" stage. If I had to place myself in a stage, I would go with Stage 2 Cave Dweller. This stage stage includes wanting to crawl into a cave with my hubs and little guy stuffing my face full of chinese food and cupcakes. Its so funny that I have said this to a few people that I have had this and their reaction is "oh you are just adjusting to motherhood." No, I am not…well yes, I am…but my hormones are WAY more out of whack than just being a new mommy. I cant speak for everyone here but I have never really had hormonal issues until now. Somewhere in the six weeks after giving birth to the little senor, I had a few afternoons of crying while watching the Real Housewives of Somewhere…Really?!? I cried during a Bravo reality show. Oy! I should have known right there that something was wrong. I mean I love me some Bravo shows but usually they make me laugh and smile….not cry! But my strange mood appeared to be a-ok based on what I read online about post birth hormone fluctuation. It wasn't until a few weeks later when I was reading my little guy a book, "That's Not My Monster," and started crying that I knew something wasn't right. I mean it is really sad to go through the entire 8 pages of the book of why it wasnt my monster. Was it because the monster's paws were too rough or its nose was too blobby. I desperately needed to know was which one was my monster. My monster has the fluffy ears! So I am getting little off topic here, my roundabout point is that when you start bawling your eyes out reading a super cute book to your baby who is laughing, something isn't right. I called my hubs right away. Through my tears and muffled speech, I think he gathered that I was having some sort of ppd but was still safe to myself and the kiddo. So this is where I find this subject to be taboo. You shouldn't have to make it point to let someone know that you are not in post partum psychosis just some stage of depression. It seems that everyone assumes that if you are having any sort of ppd you are the Stage 5 Bay Bridge clinger which I am not. I was just somewhere else on the spectrum past Stage 1 Baby Blues and Stage 3 Couch Potato. Ok, so back to some sort of point. Being the sweet and solution oriented person my hubs is, he emailed over some ppd support groups in the area as well as suggesting that I go do something for me like acupressure to help relax. Wanting to get out of this funk asap, I emailed the support group and checked out two books from Day One. The Brook Sheild's "Down Came the Rain" book and Post Partum Depression for Dummies. Honestly?!?!? Post Partum for Dummies???? Great title…I think this was the humor relief I was needing and it looked like a fab resource. But seriously, they couldn't come up with a different title ?!?! I made an appointment for reflexology that day and started taking some Omega supplements to help stabilize my mood. Somewhere between taking the supplements, reflexology and talking to a few other new mommies dealing with ppd…there was a light at the end of the tunnel with a rainbow nearby. Yes, I still have days of crying over reading "The Hungry Caterpillar" and feeling irritated out of nowhere for no reason… but overall things are looking rosy colored. Woohoo!

What getting reflexology looks like these days. Insert baby on chest :)

Just when I thought I had a plan...

Its so funny how life can have a totally different plan than the one that I had for myself. Never in a million years did I imagine being a stay at home mom. For all of you that now me, domesticated is not exactly synonymous with my name. I have always loved working and growing professionally especially as of late when I was working for a family foundation. My entire life, I always thought that I would get married, get pregnant, have a fabulous/glowing pregnancy, have the baby and return to work 12 weeks later. HA! I am honestly laughing out loud as I write this post. This is so not what happened…well the first two parts are true. I did marry my best friend and we did get pregnant. Easy pregnancy…I think not! Fabulous and glowing pregnant woman…I beg to differ. I did gain an obscene amount of weight while eating like a rabbit but we did give birth to our healthy, precious baby boy. Return to work…NOPE! In all seriousness, I did try to and there were so many forces working against me that we decided that it was meant to be that I stop working and hang with the little man who laughs at the face bottles. You are thinking to yourself that this would be awesome…right??? Not in the least bit. I love having him with me all the time but since he eats on demand it makes it quite difficult to enjoy a nice big glass of wine or go out to dinner with the hubs. One day….

Not working has brought on a totally new set of adjustments…I don't think I have ever thought about not working. So when it happened all of a sudden, I went through an identity crisis. Kind of like the same one I went through when I officially changed my name after I got married. Its strange. With the name change, I'm the same person on the inside with a new id on the outside. Now, I am the same person on the inside and outside with a new job title, Director of Daily Operations at the Crownholm Household. Yes, it's a self appointed position and title, but I really needed some sort of job with a description to make me feel proud of myself at the end of the day/week/month. When you are working, every time your boss tells you "good job" or a project is finished on time, you feel a sense accomplishment. Being a stay at home mom, you don't get that. Nobody tells me how wonderful your laundry folding is or that you vacuum with such finesse. Nursing your kid also seems to pose the same problem, although I will say that as of late the little man smiles at me after every feed or gives me a pat on the chest. I take that as it was a good feed or job well done mom :)

Even yesterday, the hubs, the babe and I went to a Sign Language class at Day One. Now, I frequent Day One frequently….do I really need to say that I go there almost every single day for a class of some sort. Now, you would think that another weekend class would be a piece of cake. Not even! We get there early, sign in, feed, diaper change, weigh the man and sit down at our seats. Everything appeared to going well and we were the first people there. As the class filled up and the instructor began, the little mister decided he would rather us not learn sign language to communicate with him. He promptly directed me to the room outside the classroom where there were rocking recliners. He was thinking that at noon he would prefer to eat and take a siesta. So we left 30 minutes later with a book on sign language and left to our own devices to learn how to sign properly.

So, I guess the moral of the this story is that just when I think I have made a plan for myself, life or something like it has a whole other one. Such is life!