Hope for the PPD mom.

There isn’t time for this, or any blogging lately. Work, kids, fun, rinse, repeat. Or, more accurately, deadlines, dirty diapers, dinner, and dancing in the living room. This is what days look like around here lately.

Eating God-knows-what and being adorable.

Seabass on his new pedal bike!

But a friend of a friend recently wrote me because she’s struggling with the reality of postpartum depression and news that she’s pregnant with her second child. Deadlines and dinner can wait; there’s urgent, and then there’s URGENT.

As I wrote her back, I could sense that something incredible was happening: I was happy, hopeful, and even helpful, able to pass my peace along to someone in need.

First off, congrats on your pregnancy! Really. Congratulations. My daughter, Sweet Chuck, is the light of my life. I can’t imagine life without her, though I cried and cried when I found out I was pregnant with #2. I completely understand. The first trimester was so so challenging, physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc etc. I couldn’t fathom having another crying mouth to feed and butt to wipe. I don’t know how I kept Seabass alive those first several months, but I must have somehow because he’s a thriving kid today. God knows I didn’t do much more than cry and stare out the window for a while there. It is a miracle and a mystery of the universe that we mothers are able to contend with so much on so little, if any. It pushes us down – it pulverizes us – and yet, somehow, we make it to the other side and are (I think?) better for it. This is my experience, strength and hope to give to you. Today, despite being literally suicidal after the birth of my first child, I have two kids who are healthy and happy, a loving marriage, and a sense of peace in my heart, most days. This isn’t luck. You too will feel this. Just be kind to yourself and give it time. A mantra that worked for me was “CHANGE HAPPENS.” I said it over and over to myself, and it helped me.