the internal battle

To those crazy people that dont believe in postpartum depression...they could never understand.
If you have never been through it, it is hard to imagine what it is like to take home this beautiful thing that you have waited SO long for, and to regret it...to look into your childs eyes and sob. So scared that youve made a mistake, surely this cant be the wonderful world of motherhood that you have heard so much about? This cant possible be the most incredible feeling on earth. This is doom. This is no light at the end of the tunnel. This is twentyfourhoursaday sevendaysaweek nonstop just you and her.
How can the happiest time of your life make you feel like this? Congratulations! they say, but you can barely muster up a smile. Isn't it wonderful? You nod, fighting back tears. The guilt overwhelms you and you wonder who in the world decided that it was okay for you to be responsible for another human beings life. Weeks pass in a fog, months, and your little bundle of joy has somehow survived, hasnt drowned in your tears, and has even learned to smile at you at 2AM.
There are days when I am still not so sure about all of this. There are days when I want nothing more than to crawl up in a ball and hide. To pretend like this is a dream. Days when the only other person you have contact with drools and spits up. So alone, and sure that no one could ever understand. You must surely be a horrible person. You must be an awful mom to feel this way.

Somewhere in the deep dark depths of your soul there is a light. It shines everytime she giggles, everytime she does something new. Mine's the one with the bright blue eyes and the crazy hair, who loves to smile. The one that makes squash fashionable and drool classy. Shes mine...and I wouldnt want it any other way.
Every now and then my lightbulb still goes out. I get frustrated when she wakes up in the middle of the night, I get upset when I end up wearing her food. I hate that I feel like this and I look at her and I am so sorry that inside my heart feels like it does. But I know that its getting easier, and I know that its not my fault I am feeling this way. So I take a deep breath, and baby steps...and wait for that lightbulb to come back on to show me the way. Because deep down I know that this is only temporary, and I dont want to miss a thing. The fog lifts, each time for longer and longer, and I know that I love her and I realize that life without her is incomplete.
Josh is our rock. He is our strength and our energy and our patience. He is amazing for surviving this, and I thank God that I have him to help me remember whats important. Addison and I are the luckiest girls alive. Sometimes I dont like where I am, but where would I be without them? Lost.

Deep breath...