The first time I remember feeling really overwhelmed as a parent was when my first daughter was about 6 weeks old. She was a crier. We’d get to 5 or 6 in the evening and she’s start screaming. No amount of rocking, nursing, shushing, singing or patting helped. By about 8 or 9 she’d settle down and then I played the nurse-her-to-sleep game 3 to 5 times throughout the night. I remember sitting on the edge of the bed and crying because I couldn’t soothe her. I had to put her down (in a safe place) and walk out of the room for a few minutes.
With my first daughter I was always tired and hungry and clueless about what to do with this small creature who just wanted to nurse all day everyday. I didn’t have any mommy friends to turn to. I was still working part time, so I at least had contact with adults and the outside world.
When she was about 2 and a half, I really started to have a hard time with her. This was when her “counter will” kicked in full force and she started having thoughts and opinions about everything. Without going into detail about her, the result of this shift in personality was that I felt like a huge jerk and a failure as a parent. No matter what I did, she let me know it was wrong.
The worst of my depression happened when my second daughter was about 5 months old. The early baby months were easy, because now I knew what I was doing and she was a good sleeper. At around 5 months I found myself feeling exhausted and angry all the time. I resented that the girls took all my time and I started to judge myself severely. I truly believed that I was a horrible mother and that I was ruining my kids. I believed that no one wanted to be around me and that I was not deserving of help. My negative self talk was crushing me. I felt that everyday was a journey of survival to get to bed time. I wanted it all to end. Fortunately, I never acted on my desire.
The endlessness of the days and the overwhelmed feeling was exhausting. I got to the point where I was just numb to everything. There was no joy in being with my girls or doing the things I used to enjoy.
I am happy to report that I have since found my way out of the thick fog of depression, but it is still something that I have to manage daily. If I get too tired, or hungry I can feel the wisps of fog in my head. I have the strength now to identify the feeling and put up a good fight. I now believe that I am worth loving and I need to take care of myself because I am deserving of it and it makes me a better parent.
