Well as some of you know I’ve been suffering pretty badly from depression, not sure if it was PND or just circumstantial, but regardless, it’s been hell.
From the moment Missy was born, and I was struggling with reflux, hours of screaming each night, then trying to get up and dealing with a toddler during the day, I felt guilty. I didn’t like Missy, I didn’t like feeding her because I knew she’d scream afterwards. I didn’t want her to wake so I didn’t have to deal with her. I was an awful mother to Master D, because I was only half there.
I tried to carry on like nothing was happening, nothing was wrong. And one day I broke. I yelled at Master D, and grabbed him, in a public food court. I was embarrassed and shocked. I didn’t realise how bad it had got.
I finally saw light in my dark life.
Now it’s several weeks later. I am happy. I am loving Master D exploring and learning and asking questions. I am adoring Missy and how she gazes at me after a feed, smiling away, cooing and falling asleep in my arms. I am amazed that I made these beautiful children, and feel I am the luckiest person in the world.
