May is Mental Health Awareness Month. At the beginning of May, I posted on my Facebook page that I would talk a little more about my struggle with postpartum depression. And I decided it was also time to talk about the real reason I write about it so often.
First off, I 100% believe that my Postpartum Depression made me a better mom to my little boys. It was such a dark, scary time in my life. But I came out on the other end. Thank goodness. And living in that black space made me realize how lucky I really am day-in and day-out.
I do not keep it a secret that I suffered from Postpartum Depression after the birth of my first son Henry, who is now three years old. I fell into a deep black hole of anger and worthlessness a week or so after I gave birth. And it took me far too long to accept help. People wanted to help, but I didn’t think I needed it. I spent too many hours laying in a dark room crying before I convinced myself this wasn’t just the “baby blues” I was told to expect.
This went against every ounce of what I thought traditional motherhood looked like.