For the last four years, I have primarily been “mama”—a job I cherish but honestly spent a long time coming to terms with. As I healed my postpartum depression, writing became a huge part of how I process both my emotions and my relationship with my motherhood journey. As with everything I share, take what you need and leave the rest.
This is officially the longest we have lived in one place. Actually, when we hit 1.5 years, that was the longest I have lived in one place since I went to college. As an active duty military spouse, I have gotten used to moving around a lot, but even this is a little unusual for the military. Typically, we would be on 2-3 year orders in one location. Our family has just taken a bit of a different path because of my partner’s career, and that is okay. At the end of the day, it brought us to Naples and I can honestly say that this has been one of the best places for our family - for me and my individual growth, for my relationship with my partner, and for my son.
For parents, there is pure power in saying, “There is no right way*. There is only what is right for your family.” This is what’s right for my family.
How are you showing up for and loving the people in your life who are struggling with their mental health? How are you contributing to a culture that delineates what struggles are acceptable, palatable, and deserving of sympathy?
Most days, however, I still found myself looking around and asking, “Is this what other stay at home moms do? Does everyone else feel like they did…nothing?”
I thought I knew everything about her story - the daughter of Demeter and Zeus who was spirited away to the Underworld by Hades himself. Little did I know how reductive I was in my view of the woman whose presence was to become my most constant guide through not only motherhood but the cycles of life itself.
Giving my postpartum depression a name has helped me separate the depression from myself and my identity…this is my letter to her as I work towards being able to say goodbye once and for all.
By taking care of myself before I did anything else, I spoke my son’s language. I showed him that I loved him, even before I was able to say or even feel it. Taking medication doesn’t make me a failure.
My goal is to be a safe place for new families, where their concerns, fears, goals, and needs are considered just as important as those of their baby.
I choose to honor my struggles and my pain. I choose to remember the reality of those early (and not so early) days of motherhood. If I forget all of that, how will I be able to see how far I have come?
Like many people, I had preconceived notions of what pregnancy would be like. I expected some kind of otherworldly connection…But that never came.
