Archive for the ‘post partum depression’ Category

Moving up and on

I had a post scheduled for today regarding the feelings I got when holding a teeny tiny newborn yesterday. I focused only on the sad feelings I got because it kind of brought up some memories of my postpartum depression.

But then I stepped back, reread the post, and deleted it.

I cannot continue to focus on the past. I am finally 100% back to where I was pre-Aric. Yes, those times SUCKED. Yes, I was robbed of the time I should have been enjoying with my son. But right now, that doesn’t matter. I need to stop focusing on the negative and start thinking of the positive.

So I will focus on the fact that I was the last person to hold little Ella, which meant I got to keep her for as long as I wanted. And we rocked back and forth and I whispered sweet words into her little, perfect, elven ears. I smiled at her squishy little body as it fit just perfectly into the crook of my arm. And her little teeny hand grabbed my finger and wouldn’t let go.

Then I went home and tried to do the same thing to my baby. And he couldn’t fit in the crook of my arm. And his chubby little toddler hand was too busy pushing me away to hold my hand. And we rocked comically back and forth while I said over and over “Oh you’re my little tiny baby and I love you and we are rocking because you are my tiny baby.”

And he giggled and giggled. Then we partied in his new fort. All three of us.

Moving on is pretty sweet.

When the Helper Becomes the Helped

The winner of the headband from Twenty Five Design is Suz B! Email me at changingtheuniverse at gmail dot com! Congrats!!

Good morning! I’m over at Not Super … Just Mom today, joining Miranda in her Mental Health Month Rally (MHMRWNSJM for short). She’s collected some amazing people to blog with her about their experience with mental illness. We’re trying to break down the stigma of mental illness!

I’ve worked in the mental health field in some way since I graduated college. I started at a treatment center for at-risk teenage boys and moved to my job now, working with adults with developmental disabilities, brain injuries, and severe and persistent mental illness (SPMI).

I love my job. I love the clients that I work with. I love teaching them how to cope with their illness or disability so they can live normal lives in the community. I’m never shy from telling a client they need more assistance, and then either providing that assistance, or working with them to get the help they need.

Being surrounded by clients like this, and doing the work that I do, you’d think I would have been more in tune to my mental health. But oh my, you would be wrong. Read more ….

PS – Tune back in to Not Super … Just Mom later today to read a post by Tim! He actually wrote it back in October, but he wanted to repost it in honor of the rally.

I have hobbies

That seems like such an innocuous statement: I have hobbies. But lately it feels like so much more.

A year ago I felt like I was just barely keeping my head above water. I didn’t do much. I woke up, got Aric ready, went to work, came home, cooked dinner, and then …. just was. I didn’t do anything. I may have done some internetting. Updated my Farmville. Tweeted. But usually, I just went to bed.

Lately it’s been different. I’ve gotten bored at night. And not bored because I don’t want to do anything. Bored because I WANT to do something! It’s just been so long since I’ve wanted to do anything in my free time that it just feels strange, and much like boredom.

I’ve started sewing more. Recently I made two lovies for a friend’s newborn. Last week I sewed a purse. I have oodles of yarn and I’m thinking about crocheting up a whole mess of coffee cozies. Or scarves. Or hats. Or something.

It’s like I have a new found energy. Like the weight has been removed. I feel like “me” again. Hello, Nicci! Nice to see you. It’s been a while, no?

My therapist agrees. Next week we start the process to end services. I have some anxiety typing that, but at the same time, it feels good. I will have been off anti-depressants for 8 months. I will be done with weekly therapy. I will be, dare I say it, recovered.

I have hobbies again. I’m back.

And a great big middle finger to Post Partum Depression. You, sir, can suck it.