I want my daughter’s first year back. I want both of my daughter’s first years back. Postpartum depression took that time from me with both of them. PPD stole the first year with my baby.
How I wish I could take that time back, to do things over. Sadly it’s not possible. So here I am left feeling robbed, and cheated of that precious first year. You cannot turn back the clock, and now I have this awareness that in a blink of an eye I have missed out on so much.
I blinked. You get warned not to blink, but I did. I blinked and both of my girls grew up before my eyes.
This time round dealing with PPD has been an even greater battle. I’ve had both incredible support and deplorable support. I’ve had those who have stood by my side and encourage me through it all, and those who have stabbed me in the heart because they don’t understand, and parted ways. My depression has been a hundred times worse this go round.
I’d give anything to go back to the first month. I want the chance to soak up those newborn moments, to breathe in that intoxicating newborn smell. You know that scent, the one that is almost like honey but is so distinctive to each baby. I want to relive the late night cuddle sessions that were needed to get my girls to sleep, and not spend it sobbing the entire time. I want to make absolutely no plans and just stay at home with my baby.
If only I had taken more photos, perhaps I wouldn’t feel so disconnected. I feel like I’ve missed everything, that it all those months just rushed past me leaving me in the dust as my child grew up before my very eyes. Maybe that is why I have attempted to take more photos the second time around so that I have a reference point for all the moments. Yet I still find myself disoriented.
Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months… all gone.I am starting to feel more like myself, more like the person I am and should always be, but I only have a small amount of time before my second daughter’s first year of life moves into the second. I’m not ready. My heart is aching to know where the first year went. It hurts to constantly have this sense of having been removed from the first year.
I was on the outside trying to get even just the slightest glimpse in.
I am starting to feel more like myself, more like the person I am and should always be, but I only have a small amount of time before my second daughter’s first year of life moves into the second year. I’m not ready. My heart is aching to know where the first year went. It hurts to constantly have this sense of having been so far removed from the first year.
This year should have been incredible, and yes it was for the most part, but it should have been so much more. It shouldn’t be filled with numerous moments of my struggling. Sure my being a mother is not defined by PPD, it sure has left its lasting, damaging mark.
There are those moments though where I am left with a glimmer of hope. My daughter flashes a smile at me when I walk in the room to pick her up from her crib in the morning. I will get down on the floor and play. I am no longer afraid to go out with just my girls. Yes, the anxiety is still there, but I am overcoming it. I am winning this battle.I will have victory over it, but I still want the first year with my baby back. I want a do-over without PPD.
I will have victory over postpartum depression, but I still want the first year with my baby back. I want to go back in time and enjoy all the moments and make memories that do not revolve around my sorrow. I want both of my girls to remember that first year with happy moments. Some say to me that children do not remember that far back, I do. If my girls are anything like me they will too.
Here I am. Here we are as a family again. My youngest daughter will be one in a few months. Where did the time go? I only just feel like I am getting to enjoy this miraculous first year. I will do my best to make the most of this precious time that means so much to me.