PPD Party

Wow, I stink about blogging. I think of something AMAZING and then...I forget to blog it. So much has happened since our newest addition made her hurried entrance. Well, so much in Ybarra land anyway. Cloth diapering, babywearing, baby snuggles, reflux, bedsharing, lots of pumping, not enough sleeping, sibling jealousy and the dreaded PPD. I honestly wouldn't change a thing but I would be lying if I said it wasn't all a challenge. I'm an exhausted mess if I'm being real here. So, rather than the fun stuff I have on my "Breeder to-do list" I'm going to discuss my Baby Blues today. Bear with me, won't you?

This isn't the first time I've experienced post-partum depression. Back in 98' when my eldest daughter was born I had a pretty nasty go-round and it didn't leave me for a few years. This time around I'm more aware of what it is, why I have it and maybe even how I can help myself. I'm trying lots of vitimin D, some Omega 3 and a nice B complex to combat the worst of it. For me, PPD is a beast because I'm not just fighting it, I'm also fight Bi-Polar.

Climbing out of bed these last 6 weeks has been an effort. I'm just so damn tired, I feel like I never slept at all. It's hard to motivate when you feel like you could easily fall flat on your face. I feel like I'm always up to my eyeballs in chores and responsibilities. Nothing gets done and what does get done is undone. Quickly. Kitty is going through the terrible 2's and even without all of this emotional baggage I'm hauling about lately she would still be a handful. I think the worst of it has been being forced to be introspective and think about things I haven't dealt with. Not really. Things like Ian's physical state declining so rapidly lately and the fact that his future is truly so uncertain. Ugly things.

Enough.

The truth is that I can let these things eat me alive or I can make an effort to pull myself out this funk and enjoy the blessings I've been given. I find that if I fill my time with projects it helps. I believe that's because it satiates my manic impulses and also keeps my mind on other things. Tiny little stiches go a long way in making you forget about the unpleasent things happening around you. The finished edit of a photograph you love makes you feel talented, and that makes you feel good about yourself.

It may not work for everyone but it's slowly working for me. It's hard to admit I don't have it all together all the time but I can't help but stumble along the way sometimes. I'm stumbling, it hurts, but I'm catching my stride again. See you on the other side.