Another mom

I ran into an old friend yesterday. She had her daughter with her and I commented that her daughter had turned 3 in December. She was surprised how I could remember that. I told the last time we saw each other was when her daughter had just been born and I was pregnant with Andrew. I remember her commenting on how hard and awful it was, just giving birth, having other children at home and recovering from a c-section. I was due to have my 3rd c-section. I remember being really happy and confident, but feeling a little sad for her. I wasn't sure why she was so negative. Back to yesterday, I told her how I had been hit with the PPD and she said she thinks she is still suffering. I was surprised and asked if she was serious. She commented that she still feels depressed.
My heart felt so sad for her. I wondered if she had the support that I had and assumed she isn't medicated. I continued to shop with Andrew filling my arms with birthday paraphernalia and trying to keep him from grabbing everything in sight. I checked out, with Andrew held with my legs since he continued to make his escape. I was smiling during my almost 3 year olds chaos. I smiled as we got into the car and continued to smile all the way home. I don't know about my friends experience with PPD, I wonder why am I ok, and she's not. I wonder if it has anything to do with her question as to what church I go to now. I wonder if it is because of all the tools I used while sick. I wonder if I should have tried to spend more time with her yesterday, I wonder if I should have been a better friend and, as my hubby says, use my experience to empathize with her instead of heading home. I don't think my meeting with her was just by chance, I think I will try and look her up and check on her now.

Will time heal the memories?

I asked my husband the other day when will the memories of PPD be so distant I can barely remember it. He replied, "hopefully never" He reasoned that as long as I remember the pain I will be empathetic to others and grateful for my own journey. While this is true, I still think about my life before PPD, when I was so naively blissful. When I could have a heart palpitation and enjoy the rush of the beating instead of wondering if it's finally a heart attack. Or when I could drive to the doctors without wondering if I'm going to freak myself out with a panic attack. I'm going on 3 years post partum now, and actually feel better than I have in years, both physically and emotionally. I still take Zoloft and will continue for the time being. I'm thankful for the medication as it helps me to keep a level head (no pun intended) about the real issues going on. I know that my chest pains are due to drinking coffee and not from stress. If I feel sad, it's probably because I'm either bored or I'm pms-ing, not from being depressed. I feel very free and alive and I still believe that it's because of my experience with Andrews birth. We are heading back to the coast this year, the same place I went when I was suffering from PPD. I don't remember that trip very well. I was a little hesitant about going there, I didn't want to associate it with being sick. But I'm far enough away from the illness that I am ready to re-claim what was taken away from me. So I'll go and make new memories at the beach with my family. I'd say I'm a happier mom today with more energy and contentment. This will be Andrew's first birthday that will be really celebrated by me. His first b-day cake was made by his Godmother, if not for her there would have been no celebration at all. His second birthday was held at his Godparents house complete with decorations, balloons and celebration-and I was so thankful for them coming to bat while I was still in the "outfield". So this year I am decorating and blowing up balloons and filling a pinata and making his cake. This year I'm celebrating more then just birthdays I think. This year I'm celebrating God's Grace and my mental well being.