In other news...
I saw my shrink today.
I cried.
I kinda just let the last 4-6 weeks tumble out.
In all its ugliness.
The bad sleeping.
The crying all.the.time.
The over-reacting.
The feeling of being completely overwhelmed, no matter how small the task.
The prevalence of the mean-bitch-mummy.
The feeling of I am nothing.
The weight and body-image issues.
The if-I-wasn't-here daydreams.
The complete loss of perspective.
The why-the-fuck-do-I-bother mentality.
The negativity.
And so it came to pass:
that would be a script for some little white pills.
There is so much I could say about depression and living with it.
Wondering when, not if, it will return.
I tearily asked Dr J today, "but why now? why when I have been tracking so well did I fall so hard and fast back into the pit?"
"Because," he said, "it is a dark insidious disease." That I need to recognise how remarkable it was I got through the entire pregnancy and seven months of the post partum phase in good, solid, mental health.
Eugh.
It means I should wean Jasper. My precious little ray of sunshine who looks on me with complete joy and adoration.
I feel like a complete abject failure.
That the one thing this body of mine can do I now have to stop because the main part of me is fucked. I was on them when I was b/feeding Felix and they didn't alter his state of screaming awakeness one jot. So I'm hoping if I keep the morning, lunch and evening feed (dropping the lunch feed at around 9 months) but ditch the expressing palaver, my child of freakish mobility but remarkable contentedness will remain.
Dr J pointed out that most women back at work full time at this stage would have weaned at 3 months, that just look on the 7 months this child has had that so many in the world miss out on. That the negative impact of my depression on me and him is far greater than the benefits of breastfeeding him to my psychological cut-off point of 12 months. That what's with that? It's not like I'm up for an Order of Australia for hitting the 12 month mark.
That's why Dr J rocks. He just calls it how it is.
So here I sit. Completely and utterly knackered and bracing myself for the side-effects of going back on drugs that I know make me a much better me. I just love that happy pills upset your tummy and heighten your anxiety before making you feel far more even-keeled - like lets knock you down to build you up.
And I can hear the collective sigh of Internet relief that all my wallowing, narky, bitter wailing will at least ease off a little.
that would be a script for some little white pills.
There is so much I could say about depression and living with it.
Wondering when, not if, it will return.
I tearily asked Dr J today, "but why now? why when I have been tracking so well did I fall so hard and fast back into the pit?"
"Because," he said, "it is a dark insidious disease." That I need to recognise how remarkable it was I got through the entire pregnancy and seven months of the post partum phase in good, solid, mental health.
Eugh.
It means I should wean Jasper. My precious little ray of sunshine who looks on me with complete joy and adoration.
I feel like a complete abject failure.
That the one thing this body of mine can do I now have to stop because the main part of me is fucked. I was on them when I was b/feeding Felix and they didn't alter his state of screaming awakeness one jot. So I'm hoping if I keep the morning, lunch and evening feed (dropping the lunch feed at around 9 months) but ditch the expressing palaver, my child of freakish mobility but remarkable contentedness will remain.
Dr J pointed out that most women back at work full time at this stage would have weaned at 3 months, that just look on the 7 months this child has had that so many in the world miss out on. That the negative impact of my depression on me and him is far greater than the benefits of breastfeeding him to my psychological cut-off point of 12 months. That what's with that? It's not like I'm up for an Order of Australia for hitting the 12 month mark.
That's why Dr J rocks. He just calls it how it is.
So here I sit. Completely and utterly knackered and bracing myself for the side-effects of going back on drugs that I know make me a much better me. I just love that happy pills upset your tummy and heighten your anxiety before making you feel far more even-keeled - like lets knock you down to build you up.
And I can hear the collective sigh of Internet relief that all my wallowing, narky, bitter wailing will at least ease off a little.
posted by KPB at 5/17/2006 11:02:00 pm
16 Comments:
that's so sad, that you have to choose. I understand why, and I think I've been putting off telling my own doctor about how I feel until now, when I've weaned my baby bella, but it puts in stark perspective how we're both women AND mothers and that sometimes they don't mesh seamlessly. good luck, sincerely.
Um, yes. I had been wondering, blossom...
Wish I could give you a hug right now. Will call you today.
It will get better, honest.
And a mom not staring into the abyss is way the hell better for baby than all the boob juice in the world.
It will get better, honest.
Sounds like a good decision. Jasper will be fine without the milk. He'll still look on you with complete joy and adoration.
Aw, dude! I totally agree that a happy mom trumps breast milk any day (and I say this as someone who was only able to nurse one kid for 5 months, and nursed the other for almost 3 YEARS). Don't think of it as having to make a choice or give anything up, because you totally aren't. There is no choice -- you need to get better, period. And that's what you're doing. So you are doing the RIGHT thing - no guilt allowed!
Blah! Breastfeeding is such a love-hate tug of war. I hated it when I stopped with both of mine because I thought it was our last physical bond. But them I came to realise that my girls don't just need me for food they need me for stability, love, to make them feel good about themselves and the world, cuddles, EVERYTHING. Breastfeeding is such a little part of it when you look at it.
And it's not your failure - if it was cancer you wouldn't think it was your fault. I agree with the other ladies - you are doing the right thing. Good luck - happy feels so wonderful :)
Aw, honey! Big, huge, soft (((((HUGS))))) for you today. You've arrived at a good decision that took strength. I admire you alot for getting through the last few weeks, but even more for seeking help.
Post all you need to. We are not simply fair-weather friends. We'll take you amy way we can get you!
One day I'll blog about how NOS bit my nipple at 3am. I was thrilled and relieved to break our physical bond. I just wish I had managed to do so without the profanities of the need for a Band-Aid.
-J.
P.S. Guilt is a cancer on your spirit. Cut that out.
OK. You all have to STOP now, because all this lovin'? And images of Joke's nipple being bitten, are making me cry.
Sending you great big warm internety type hugs over the wire right now.
I had terrible guilt with Son #2. I couldn't breastfeed him ... he had his first formula at 4 weeks and weaned completely at 9 weeks. My maternal child health nurse put it into perspective by reminding me that we don't have babies just to feed them, that their milk is only one aspect of their babyhood etc etc. It still hurt, but she opened my eyes and helped me to see the whole picture. And you have fed Jasper for 7 months which is bloody incredible seeing you are back at work. So stop beating yourself up, and concentrate on getting well again.
PS. I went on to feed Son #3 for three and a half years. Overcompensating, hmmm?
WV: nnfyck. Precisely.
You are very brave.
And I am proud to know you.
K -
You are a ferociously loving Mom and a smart, independent woman.
Any boy of yours knows better than his own heartbeat that he is loved with joyous abandon.
A happy Mom is a good thing!
You are very brave. A happy mommy is far better than breastmilk any day. Good on you for seeking and getting what you need to be happy and healthy!
Be well. I totally understand the mind games of that 12 month goal, but others have already said it best, which is that happy healthy mama trumps nursing. There can be much snuggle and cuddle bonding when you're a happy mom.
Be well! You're very strong.
You are making a brave and good decision.
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