A year. A year. Up. Down. Round the bend. Round the next bend. Up. Down.
Praying it’s just baby blues.
It gets a little better.
Then the darkness comes.
Start a medication.
Get a little relief.
Try an additional dose.
All relief disappears.
End up sobbing at the midwife’s office.
Find yourself in a psychiatric hospital. Away from your family, away from all you know and trust.
Come home more despondent and hurting than you started.
Get the hope of a postpartum depression specialist.
Ahhh, the right combination of medication.
Some sweet relief.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
Find other mamas on twitter @ppdchat.
Understanding.
Acceptance.
Medication stops working.
Discover new depths of dispair.
Try Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation.
A bit of relief.
Hope.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Wonder if there is any hope left.
Bite the bullet. Ask for more help.
See the light again.
Support another mama.
See her make the hard, necessary choice to go to the hospital.
Memories rush in.
Down.
Get support.
Up.
Up.
Up.
*Please excuse the absence of Snapshot Saturdays. Please head over and pray for Ali.
*Linking up with Thought Provoking Thursday.