Facing up to some denial

Did you know that the doctor gave me a prescription for post-par tum depression after Rayne was born? The main reason I didn't fill it is because I was breast feeding and although he said it was safe, I just didn't want it in me. But another reason was I didn't want to say it was post par tum. There were so many things going on in my life that I was stressed and sad about, I didn't want people thinking it was my baby or that I couldn't handle it or that she was stressing me. In fact,  the only times I was happy was when I was with my baby- playing on the bed, laughing, taking walks; I'd show her things and sing primary songs and hold her all the time. She cried a lot but it didn't bother me. I mean, sometimes I worried, but it didn't stress me. I felt like it was just what I was there for.

After Caius was born I talked to someone quite a bit about post par tum depression and how it feels and what you can do for it and how to get help. In saying this, I think there are worse case scenarios out there and I don't want to say I was THAT bad off or belittle what anyone else goes through by simply saying I'm sad too, but...

I'm sad too.

Yesterday I took Rayne to see a psychiatrist for anxiety. It was just an initial visit, I think they call it a screening. Mostly she asked us questions and observed and wrote a lot of things down. I made the appointment months ago at the referral of our pediatrician. In preparation for the visit I had to fill out a lot of paperwork, all kinds of questions about her and me. It was kind of cool because they put all that information in a computer and quantify it onto a graph. About the only feedback we did get yesterday (we will do part 2 in a couple weeks and that will tell us what needs to come next) is that not only is Rayne's anxiety and emotional stress high, but so is my stress and depression.

She told me I'm depressed and that's...well... depressing.

It means I'm not hiding it well. I'm not holding it together. And in my mind at least, that means I'm not doing a good job. Again I want to scream that it's not my babies but everything around me. And then I have to admit that about the only times I am happy are when I'm with my babies. Probably alone. When I don't have to think about what Jeff's going to eat or if he's going to help, what his mom feels or mine thinks, or what anyone has to say... about much of anything.

There are times when I feel so incredibly happy. I LOVE and adore my kids so much I feel like I'll explode. I love my home and where we live and the views out our windows. We have what we need.
But sometimes... there are things I'm sad about.

So what do I do? Start taking some pills? Start admitting to everything that makes me mad or sad, a lot of which is in the past and not worth bringing up now except that I never dealt with it then? Start making some demands and figuring out what Mama needs?
I'm not sure I'm ready to ask those questions yet. I've let myself feel down and just ponder over this today. I feel my insides working on it and I know I will be okay because I always am. Yesterday just made it real and made me realize that it's having an effect not just on me but on my babies... and that I will not do!