My husband left for an out of town meeting, so it was just me and the kids for the rest of this three-day weekend. Then my son’s best friend called and off he went to have a sleepover last night. Down to me and my little girl.
My daughter is obsessed with sleepovers because she sees her big brother doing them. She’s only five, and she is determined that when she turns six in March her party will be a slumber party at our house. She’s already attempted a sleepover at another house twice. Both times it was at her four-year-old friend’s house, which is directly behind ours. I could hit it with a lazily thrown tennis ball. My daughter could look out any window and see her own home. Yet both times she came back. She couldn’t do it. She said, “There was something missing, mama, and I think it was you.” [cue orchestra]
Dad is gone. Brother is gone. And now my little one decides she’ll make attempt number three and off she goes. Fine by me, I thought. She’ll be back.
I fully expected our neighbor would knock at the back door sometime before 10pm with my sweet little girl in her periwinkle polar bear pajamas, but the knock never came. Last evening I ended up completely by myself.
You’d think I would have loved it, but for most of the time I just felt lonely. I missed my everyone. I secretly hoped my daughter would come back, or perhaps even my son, so we could curl up together and hang out. Instead I stayed on the couch until midnight waiting for someone to show up who never did.
Why am I telling you this? Because there was a time when the LAST thing I wanted was to be alone with my children. Postpartum depression made me afraid. It made me believe I was a terrible mom and I couldn’t handle the job. I was anxious and convinced that something would go wrong. Being alone at home for two days with my baby felt like drowning. Yet here I was, with an opportunity to be alone, and the only thing I wanted was for my babies to be with me.
If you’re someone who is going through or has been through postpartum depression, you understand the colossal difference between wanting to run away and being desperate to be near.
This is what happens when you recover from postpartum depression and anxiety. You won’t be afraid anymore. You won’t want to run away or be alone simply because you think it will protect you somehow.
Some day, you will be as disappointed as I was last night. Wonderfully disappointed. I’m so excited for you.
Photo credit: © Dimitrios – Fotolia.com
A milestone for both of you! Sweet. Wistful…
Thanks Ann!
I remember where I was a year ago when I found this website: beyond depressed, full of rage, at the mercy of very intense mood swings and totally clueless as to what was wrong with me. Being alone with my boys terrified me and I was a wreck-I could barely take care of their basic needs let alone play with or enjoy them.
Now after the right diagnosis and treatment plan, I've been able to enjoy being around them instead of wanting to crawl out of my skin. I'm crying right now, because my youngest, Alex, is moving in with his father today and I'll only see him on the weekends now…and I'm realizing that the disappointment and sadness I feel about it is kind of wonderful…
What a difference a year makes, huh?
Hang in there friend. Hugs to you.
beautiful example of how we really DO heal!!
Isn't that the truth- and a stark comparison to your post about the LONG summer with your kids. Like you, the weekends, especially three day ones, would paralyze me for an entire week prior. Now, I treasure the weekends. On the other hand…I've already begun thinking about summer camps… 😉
Oh honey! Summer camps are my savior.
I am totally wrecked today after spending 14+ hours as the primary parent yesterday. I am useless today. I *need* a break daily and crave alone time.
Reading this post gives me hope that there are brighter days ahead.
What a beautiful post Katherine. Thanks so much for sharing it with us all.
There are days when I can't wait for my DD to go to pre-school just so I can get a break from her whinging, tantrums & threenager antics. And I cherish those days so I can spend more time with my baby boy & be able to slow down & take a break during his naps. But by 3pm, I'm missing her beyond belief & thinking about when I can go pick her up (I don't want her missing out on any activities she enjoys). After DS's bottle I smile at him & say, 'c'mon, let's go pick up your sister now. We miss her'. I think back at a time I wanted to have her adopted out & I dreaded her being awake. How things have changed. And how much more do I appreciate these times because I know just how far we've come.
so well written Katherine – I understand completely!
So so so SO true. This is proof that we get better, that tables turn. I'm so glad that you shared this wonderful moment.
Sniff…she's growing up.