Belief In Pizza

This postpartum thing is kicking my ass.

With my first son two years ago I spent the first two weeks of his life really hating him. Wondering why I wanted a child, what is the point?? I don’t know him, he has no personality he’s just this entity that cries non-stop, eats and pees and poos. I was getting zero sleep. Why would I like him?

So I was frustrated that I felt like I had completely ruined my life. It’s all that misconception that as soon as your child is born you have this immediate and all consuming motherly love for them. Uhh lies. Thank you for that, you uber maternal freaks. Your people are making my people feel like terrible human beings for not being like you. “How can you not love your child??” you ask. Because I’m honest, and I didn’t.

Now I’ve come to terms that that’s completely normal. Because at about two weeks old, he started to grow on me. I saw a person, a personality and the way you would any other time in your life, I fell in love. And when you’re in love, you don’t mind sacrificing  everything. You even enjoy it. And now at two years old, he’s the love of my life.

Holy hell but THIS time? I’m three months into my postpartum period and I’m crippled by depression. A dark room is my new hang out spot but unlike the times you surrender to a bad mood or feeling of melancholy, this feeling I cannot control AT all. I love my second baby, no problem with that. This time, I just don’t really like myself.

I have no clue what to do other than try my best to take care of my kids and order a pizza.