Spiraling

I quickly knew that I was dealing with something bigger than I could handle on my own.

The problem was that I didn't know what to do about it. I called my obstetrician and tried to describe what was happening and all I could get out was "I'm so sad....I don't know...I'm just so sad..." They gave me a prescription for an antidepressant and I took it. Things weren't getting better though. They were getting worse.

I went from over the moon in love can't wait to have another to WHY DID I DO THIS?  Did I make a mistake? Does she hate me? Am I just not the right type of person to be a mom? Am I already screwing this up? What if we never bond? What if, what if, what if.

Part of my problem was that I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Sure, I could change diapers, I could make bottles and I could handle all the mind-numbing tasks of taking care of my child. I, however, couldn't figure out how to leave the house with my baby.

I literally couldn't leave the house. I was - and still am to a much lesser degree - terrified of being in public with her. I was afraid that I would have no idea what to do if she cried. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to take care of her needs. I was afraid of being judged. Of people looking at me or looking at my baby. Seeing her cradle cap. Seeing her scratches because I'm too afraid to cut her nails. Judging me for bottle feeding. For not cloth diapering. Basically, I was afraid of people seeing me be a mom.

Around this time, I started having panic attacks. I know that my anxiety was rubbing off on my daughter. The more anxious I got, the more she would cry. The more she would cry, the more anxious I got. 

I started thinking this was just going to be the way my life is now and then I started wondering if I could handle that. Yes, I started thinking about killing myself. I started looking for ways out. I wanted to throw the baby at my husband and run away every time he came home from work. I started feeling like I didn't care if I ever saw her again. I was detaching myself as a coping method. 

People kept saying it would get better...I kept waiting for it to get better. Crying, begging, pleading for it to get better. 

I was spiraling out of control.