Closer to love.

I wanted to start a blog during my pregnancy but never found the time to. I told myself I would keep a blog to update family members and friends throughout the pregnancy who couldn't be with us. Little did I know I would be completely exhausted from work and preparing a house for a newborn. I then promised myself "after the baby arrives." The is the first of many promises I broke to myself.

My son was born December 26, 2012 at 6:21pm. My husband, Adam, and I were thrilled to welcome him into this world. We waited eagerly during those nine, seemingly never ending months, to meet our beautiful boy. So many emotions ran through my body; excitement: I finally had the family picture I always dreamed of. a dog, house, husband, and a baby! Fear: How could I be trusted to take home this small human?! It was up to me to keep this thing alive. Exhaustion: I just labored for 7 hours...my body did what it was made to do. Confusion: why didn't I cry when I held him for the first time? Was this normal?

I didn't believe it could happen to me. I refused to. But here I am admitting this publicly, for the first time. I have Postpartum Depression. Why am I admitting this to you? I don't want to be alone in this fight anymore and if you have, might, or will experience this, I don't want you to be alone either. This is not a plea for help. This is a scream for truth.

Having PPD doesn't make you a bad mother. You are human. You don't have 8 heads, so why do people look at you like you do when you admit to having PPD?

Throughout pregnancy we as women and expecting parents read all these articles from other women eager to share their plight of happiness through early motherhood. One woman will say how wonderful being a mother is; locking eyes with your baby for the first time. Another will say how phenomenal it is to look at your newborn & see yourself in them. Why wasn't I feeling any of these feelings or experiencing these breathtaking moments?

 I waited all my life to welcome a child of my own. Was this because we didn't plan this pregnancy? Was this because I was only 22 when I gave birth? I can't answer these questions because I still wonder myself.

It wasn't until my son was nearly 7 weeks old that I realized I loved him. I knew I loved him but I didn't know I LOVED him. If you're a mother you'll understand what I'm talking about. If you're expecting you'll understand one day. Our eyes met for what seemed like the first time. He coo'ed & I cried. He smiled & I smiled. I knew we were going to be okay.


 I invite you to join me on this journey; a journey into motherhood & through PPD. I will fight it every day. Every day I'm closer to love.