Things I can't say: Postpartum Depression

This post is very hard for me to write. I am a proud person who doesn't like to admit when things are tough. But that is exactly what I am about to do.

Today the hubs went back to work after being home for 3 weeks while I recovered from my c-section {still working on that part} and to help out with the boys {which he did incredibly well, I am so immensely grateful for him. I love you hubs. I couldn't do any of this without you by my side.} My wonderful mother came over for 3 hours this morning so I could take a shower and not have to worry about the boys harming the new girl {you are amazing mom, thank you for all that you've done for me these past few weeks.} Other than those 3 hours, I've been doing it on my own. I knew this would be hard. It's not much worse than I expected really, it's just hard.

There are a few things that are making this harder on me than I expected though.

My {almost} 2 year old has a double ear infection, a runny nose and a cough. He is having an incredibly hard time with the fact he isn't the baby anymore. He isn't taking this out on his new sister {thank goodness} he's taking it out on me. That's hard. Really hard for me.

My {almost} 4 year old woke up this morning with an extreme runny nose and a horrid cough and spent most of the morning coughing in his newborn sisters face any chance he could get. I highly doubt he was doing this to harm her, it's just how it was happening. He is also having a very hard time adjusting to a new sister and is also taking it out on me {and his little brother.} Thankfully, he adores his little sister. I just wish he could actually be close to her when he wants to, but he can't because he's sick. And I'm terrified of the baby getting sick.

Then there's Gwen. My wonderful 3 week old {today} daughter. This is the part that is making my days even harder {and I wasn't planning on writing about this, but here it goes.} On Monday, we went to the pediatrician for a typical well-check and we ended the appt. with the pediatrician taking pictures of Gwen's beautiful face and saying she's a bit concerned about her stork bites/birth marks/whatever you usually call them and wants to make sure they aren't associated with a brain hemangioma. Gwen may need to have an MRI at 4 months. I have been crying over this for 3 days now. The fact that something could possibly be wrong with my beautiful new baby is more than I can handle. The Dr. then tells me not to stress out, but all I hear are the words "broken blood vessel in the brain" "MRI" "sedation." I don't hear: "I'm just being cautious, I just want someone who has more experience with this to take a look {shes's going to see a dermatologist in the next few weeks}. It could just be stork bites but I want to make sure." Of course I don't hold on to those words. I hold onto the horrible scary words. Yes there are the good things: they're being cautious, if it really is anything at least they're being proactive about it yadda yadda yadda.

But I'm dealing with horrible postpartum depression here. This news, on top of a 2 year old with double ear infections who is mad at me because he's not the baby anymore and a 4 year old who is sick and mad at me too just feels like too much.

Some minutes {yes minutes, not even hours or days} I feel amazing. Like a true superwoman. Like I can do this, I can change diapers and feed little people and keep the house clean and do it all with a smile and a cheerful heart. Other minutes I am a wreck and feel overwhelmed and sad and ugly and fat and horrible.

I know this is all very personal.
But I needed to get it out there.
Postpartum depression is something that happens to many many women.
And it's happening to me.
And I'm trying my best to keep it all together and ask for help when I need it.

I know this will all get better....eventually.
I know I am never given more than I can handle.
I know I have people who love me and support me.
Knowing all of this makes each day just a little bit more bearable.

Thanks for reading.
{This post is linked with Things I Can't Say for Pour Your Heart Out}