Postpartum Depression

"Postpartum Depression"

Dark pools between street lights.

Inky blackness seeps, clings.

Tar.

A dark sea.

I sink, curled, an embryo.

Blind, numb, panicked,

there are no stars.

If I swim in the wrong direction,

I'll drown.

I am rubble, strafed.

Small shards fall, snowy gray, ash.

Breathe.

I taste dead fire. My lungs are heavy.

Breathe.

I am shaking under the weight

of this new world.

This was very personal, emotionally-charged, and difficult for me to write. I'm terrified of posting this on my blog, where anyone can read it, because it is so close to my heart. In some ways it's really raw and painful, and more than a bit jumbled, but I'm writing this post because I feel I need to. It's been hanging over my head for months. I know that there are a vast number of discussions and posts on the subject of depression (especially lately – RIP Robin Williams), but I'm not talking about depression in general. I'm talking about my thoughts and feelings about my own experience and my personal depression.

Depression is a subject that is still, and probably always will be, generally misunderstood and difficult to acknowledge. Physical laws and their consequences are usually easy to recognize. It's the simple law of cause and effect. If you cut yourself with a knife, you're going to bleed. If you break a bone, it is going to need to be reset, cast, and given time to heal. If you bump into something hard enough, you'll bruise. 

Hyperbilirubinemia & Breastfeeding is Hard

After a few days in the hospital, on November 1st, we brought Ollie home. 

 

At his check-out exam, the doctors expressed concern at his bilirubin levels. They were higher than normal, and we were advised