I'm sure hearing me whine about PPD can get annoying ... but that's just too bad ;)
The past few days, I've had more anxiety than normal. I'm fine during the day, but when bedtime hits, I lay in bed and panic. I worry endlessly about every little thing, and every medium thing and every big thing that I can think of. I panic about my children, I worry about my husband. After a while, I just cry. Last night, my husband just held me as I sobbed. I had a terrible sense of foreboding ... like something bad was just around the corner. My stomach hurt, and I couldn't breathe. It was a full-blown panic attack. I tried all of the relaxing techniques I've been taught over the years, and none of them brought my anxiety down. My husband tried to distract me with a word game that usually helps me, but the game had me panicking even more. So he just held me while I cried, and reminded me that God doesn't give us the anxious foreboding feeling, like how when we were told that SweetPea had heterotaxy, how God gave us strength and peace. His point gave me comfort, and I was able to come back down to calmness.
I know that God gave me my husband as a gift to help me through the PPD junk. When we were first married, I had to have faith that I had chosen "Mr Right". But as life has gone on, and we've had four kids, and dealt with PPD after 3 of them, and we've been through college, jobs, and life together, I KNOW that he's my Mr Right. I don't know if he was my "soul mate" when we got married ... I think that God let me choose, and I am so blessed that the man I chose has become my soul mate. There's no one else I could imagine being with.
While PPD is one of the trials I've got to get through in life, God does give me little glimpses of light to remind me that I can be happy, and that this PPD is short-term.
Last night, the happiness came from my little SweetPea. I so love this baby!!! Its funny to watch how much all my other children love her too. I start to worry that I am not paying enough attention or giving enough love to the older three, but then they walk up to their baby sister, and coo at her and talk in high-pitched motherese. Even 9 year old SuperBoy, who is too cool for most things, will walk up to SweetPea and baby-talk with her. It makes my heart swell with so much happiness.
Even though last night was rough, this sooooo makes up for it:
I just want to squeeze this baby and hug her and smother her with kisses and love!