The arrival of my baby was the cliché , “the best day of my life”. I fell in love with this little human the moment he took his first breathe out the womb. This immense deep feeling was something I never felt before. Yes, you love your significant other, your parents, family, and friends. For me, nothing could even come close to how I felt when he laid his little head on me. I knew instantly that I wanted only the best for my baby and that I would love this little human unconditionally.
Little did I know that this love would be cut short 2 months later. I got very sick, where I could not get out of bed. I was diagnosed with the Flu and was then was put on medication. My mother and sister stayed with my baby, so he would not get sick. My breast milk dried up and I felt like the worse mother in the world. I was advised not to breastfeed my baby until I was fully recovered. Mothers are supposed to provide for their children and here I was, I could not feed my own child. Through out my pregnancy I read books and scavenger the internet for the bests ways to raise a newborn. I chose the path of breastfeeding, as this was the most natural way for a newborn to gain the nutrients needed. As I pumped out the breast milk and threw it away, each day began to feel like torture. Soon I did not want to hold my baby. I felt like a failure and that I was an unfit mother.
Postpartum depression set in quickly. It changed my entire mood, my sleep schedule, my eating habits, and my whole life. My doctor and family desperately looked for ways to help me. Some treatments were sleeping pills, which I would never try. Other treatments were seeing a therapist, which helped to get a different perspective of what I was going through. Each day was different, some were great, and others were rough.
I eventually was cleared from my doctor to start physical activities. I signed up for a yoga class with my sister. Within 5 minutes, I started to cry and ran out, my sister follows me. She hugged me in silence as I continued to sob. She looked at me and said you can do this! I washed my face and went back to the class. I stared taking yoga classes every week. This helped me calm my nerves and clear my mind. As a former ballerina, yoga has allowed me to reconnect with myself through the poses. I began to feel full and happy again.
Post-partum depression is real. I realized I was not a failure as a mother. I just needed a little help, support, and guidance.