There is no way to intro this blogpost in a way that will gradually introduce you to its harsh reality, so I’m just going to jump right in.
I always saw myself as a tough woman. I never cried about anything, I was independent, I always helped to solve other’s problems and I very seldom asked for help. I thought these were all good things (today I know better) and I always felt prepared for anything. What I wasn’t prepared for was the wrecking ball that hit me in the face the moment my little girl was born.
Labor sucked and that bag of emotions was a lot to deal with, but then I came home and it felt like my whole world was crumbling in around me and I was tied up watching it all go up in flames. I was crying constantly, I was in pain, I couldn’t get up to feed her, it was dark and there was no light at the end of the tunnel. I remember thinking that if I got hit by a truck all of this will go away and she’ll be safe, because her dad is amazing.
I couldn’t stand looking at this woman who was weak and broken
I felt that my constant darkness was a burden for my husband (even though I know now that he desperately wanted to save me, but didn’t know how). I didn’t want to see my friends, because I was embarrassed that they would see the ‘power woman’ not having it all together. I didn’t want to see myself, because I couldn’t stand looking at this woman who was weak and broken and didn’t know how to take care of her own baby. My bed felt like an ocean of sheets and I was drowning in them. Nothing felt real.
I didn’t want be in this place.
I was standing in the shower, one morning, bawling my eyes out. I was begging my husband not to go to work. I was pleading with him to stay, holding onto him as if my life depended on it and that moment it felt like it did.
That was it, we couldn’t go on like this. I can’t really remember the chain of events, but it came to the point where we all knew I needed help. We discussed a game plan and made it happen. I immediately went medication, tried to sleep every opportunity I got and my husband did even more than he usually did (which is A LOT). Soon before long the light at the end of the tunnel came racing toward me like a speeding train and then the daylight hit me!
My little bambino’s face filled me with joy, not fear. Life was exciting again and this new journey looked like and adventure, not a walk to the guillotines. I was in love with my husband and was in awe of how easily he stepped into the role of ‘dad’. My little girl filled me with a new kind of love, a love I never knew existed. I felt stronger than ever. I felt courageous.
This thing that we are so scared of, so embarrassed by shouldn’t enjoy all this power. Take back the power, get up, fight back, get the help you need and at the end of the day you can look back and roar in victory!