Battling the Blues

I wasn't prepared for the rush of emotions that came over me after giving birth to this tiny little human, who like his brother made my heart grow leaps and bounds. 

I wasn't planning on the sadness that would envelope me in the quietness of the night time feedings, while I was alone with my thoughts rocking a sweet little babe to sleep.

I wasn't prepared for the rock of guilt that sat firmly on my shoulders for taking time away from my first born, for not being able to pick him up and console him, for changing his world so abruptly.

I didn't think that I would have a hard time connecting with this new baby who looked so much like me, and who I had so desperately prayed for.

I wanted to be able to do everything, and couldn't.  I wanted to sit and just stare on this new baby.  I wanted to lay on the floor with my big baby and play all day long. 

I cried.  Big fat tears.  All the time. 

I yelled and was unreasonable more often than not.

Then I cried again.

It wasn't something I was planning on.  This didn't happen the first time around, with the exception of those first few emotional days.  This time I couldn't control my emotions, and I mourned the loss of having only one child.  I mourned the things I could no longer do with just one child.  I mourned the things I couldn't do solo with my second child.  I mourned my pregnancy, knowing that we planned for it to be our last.  I mourned inexplicable things, everything, and nothing.

It was a harsh reality, and one that I'm slowly leaving behind.  Embracing the everyday happiness and the little things.  I'm now loving everything that is possible, and not holding on to the things that are impossible.  Some days are better than others.  Some days no darkness falls on my spirit, while some days I feel as if nothing is right, and guilty about one thing or another.

There is no cure.  Just an acceptance that you're human after all, and that this place right here with my children in my arms for as long they need me is where I belong.