Post-partum depression + my village - Tameka Christmas

Meet Tameka Christmas - you can find her on all social media handles @TamekaChristmas

For the first few months of my baby life, I felt like I was just going through the

motion. I felt disconnected from my baby, family, friends, and even my child’s

father.

Most of those moments was overshadow by darkness, sadness, and

regret.

There was moments where I would talk myself into bonding with baby to have

that special moment with him in the beginning.

There were also moments where I spent just holding him, crying and thinking how crazy life had changed in a matter of two weeks. And there were moments where I took pictures to be able to look back at how small, precious, and innocent he was.

About 10-20 percent of first time moms will experience postpartum depression.

For the longest, I was in denial. I was hoping that it was just baby blues, which is

characterized as mood swings after delivery.

I would be lying if I said it was easy

to admit that it was depression but somehow I felt out of control.

The first week of my baby’s life, I cried. The dishes begin to pile up. The house

needed to be cleaned. Baby items that people bought sat at Walmart. And my

medicine prescribed at discharge was still sitting at the pharmacy.

On top of that, I was breastfeeding so baby was in high demand.

I felt exhausted. Scared. Angry. Helpless. Frustrated. Alone.

When I took my child’s to his first appointment during the first week of life, I cried. I stayed in the doctor’s office for nearly two hours, talking and weeping to a counselor because I

felt like I had no one else. The crazy thing is I did. I had friends, family, and

coworkers that visited, bought food, and checked on me daily. I didn’t want to

explain to anyone of what I was experiencing because I didn’t want people

brushing off my emotions.

My doula visited. And when she visited, she cooked, cleaned, soothe baby while I showered, and reminded me that I too needed support and affection because I just went through a life changing moment.

One day, I sent a long message to my child’s father about how I was feeling.

No response and no conversation about how he can be supportive through the

transition. And from then, I knew that if I wanted help or support I would have to

seek it from others. I visited my baby’s grandmother that weekend in hopes of getting

a good night rest and food with friends.

That whole weekend changed the dynamics of my relationship because I simply asked my child’s father to do something for me.

I never thought a small argument could turn into something much larger. Because in that moment, the lack of support I had been given during the first few weeks of

bringing baby home was revealed. I cried. I shouted how selfish he was, how

unsupportive he was, how I felt he didn’t care.

And it was that moment that I knew I needed help not only from friends and family, but professional help because I couldn’t expect my family to bare the things I was experiencing.

Since then, I have allowed the people to support me. I have pushed myself to ask

for help when needed. I remind myself to not say I’m okay when I’m really not. I

have visit a therapist consistently and I am working through ways to manage my

emotions.

While I may feel alone and scared some days, I know that both baby

and I are loved. I hold tight to that because if not, my postpartum depression

would overshadow it and control me.