Looking back on it now, it is quite mind blowing how warped I was. I would get furiously angry with Sparreaux for normal baby behaviors such as crying or needing to be held. It was almost like I had expectations that she would understand I was tired or sad and didn’t want to feed her, rock her, etc… Very strange for me being the AP parent I am to be feeling this way. Justin even brought up how little I wanted to hold or be with Sparreaux and I flipped on him for even suggesting such a thing. I truly did not have a grasp on how far from myself I really was. I think the anger flares are the most surprising aspect of my experience with PPD. I have experienced depression before but nothing like this. It was like I hightailed it outta my body when Sparreaux was born and some nut-job took my place. We (Justin and I) invited our doula over to discuss what we should do. We were both at a loss on how to handle my disappearance. It truly was like I wasn’t even there. I felt like I was orbiting above my life, watching myself act like a completely selfish jerk but had not control over it whatsoever. Our really lovely and compassionate doula told us that in her experience, women generally did not “bounce back” from PPD but truly did need a combination of therapy and anti-depressant medication to recover from PPD.
|More baby lovin'|
|Indra hearts Sparreaux|
|My sweet little bear (oxymoron is intentional)|
Justin and I have to practically wrestle her into her clothes in the morning. Threaten everything under the sun if she doesn’t stay in her bed. Promise her rainbows and unicorns if she will just take ONE bite of her dinner. We have her working with specialists to develop her speech and foster her independence which is going ACHINGLY slow. I love her to little itty bitty pieces but sometimes I just want to scream, “Come on Indra, it’s just a pair of freaking socks! Put them on and let's go!” *deep breath* But, I don’t. We plod on gently and carefully each and every day trying new charts, routines, techniques; our efforts are constantly being renewed. She is 30 months this month and going to be heading into pre-school and she cannot even communicate.
|That is actually her "puke bucket" on her head. She thought it made a better hat (btw, there is no puke in there)|
I truly think that the communication or lack thereof is so frustrating to her and may be the root of many of her meltdowns. I worry about her entering into a world of make-believe and ABCs when she doesn’t even know how to tell me where on her body she just got an owie. Oh, little love. My heart aches for you.
|Our funny faces!! Aren't we FUNNY?!|