I thought I was crazy. I thought something was wrong with me. These were exciting times. I’m married to the love of my life, a man who treats me like a Queen and honors God for all his blessings and we were planning to bring a baby girl into the world in the fall. So why was I upset, sad, angry, tired, and motivation-less this year?

Although I had a great pregnancy physically (except body pains), I was struggling mentally. I feared bringing a baby into this cold world. These people crazy. Wrong was becoming right, and right was becoming wrong. How could I bring a precious innocent into this? What did I do that God trusts me to mother a baby girl, who will later turn into a young woman? Who said I was good enough? I dealt with this my entire pregnancy, not to mention being tired and hungry all the time. My goal for 2019 was to increase my social media presence and take my blog to the next level. There were events I wanted to go to, networking I wanted to do, content I wanted to make. I also wanted to work on getting a newer and better position for my 9-5. All of my applications were getting rejected and I was physically too tired to create content.

For some reason, “pushing” wasn’t something I was interested in doing. Maybe I should just relax and focus on bringing in a healthy baby. I’ve worked my butt off since I was 15. I barely worked this year and somehow still managed to keep my job. My social media presence wasn’t up to par but I always got DM’s from blogger friends who told me to take care of myself and I can put my all into it after baby comes. Then doctors said I had gestational diabetes, and I was so upset. No matter what they say, dietitians and doctors have you on a diet. I was angry because I could possibly pass this to my child, so there was lots of guilt, and I was hungry. The things I couldn’t eat were the things I was craving. More importantly, I had to poke my finger 3-4 times a day and take insulin. In my leg. With a syringe. That even brought my spirits even lower, but, things will get better.

Then…she came. Such a beautiful, tiny, human. Resembles both of her parents, more me though (LOL). I braved a scary c-section and both my baby and I went home healthy. I was so thankful that my husband had 4 weeks off to be with us and my mother in law stayed our first week home. I couldn’t do anything because I was supposed to be healing. If you know me,  you know I can’t sit still and I have to be doing something. I literally felt like a failure and that I wasn’t healing faster. I would cry every day and didn’t know why.  My husband told me he was surprised I wasn’t crying or feeling sad until I told him I would hide from him. Then he made sure that we took a few minutes out, just us, to talk. If I took too long in the shower, he’s knocking and coming in. And I would tell him. We would talk about how scary it was to be on this new journey, how I wanted a new job, how I wanted to brand CurlsWithStyle, remove the keloid from my jaw, etc. The more I talked about it, I started to feel better. I think.

Then my mother in law suggested that I might need a little “help.” It is normal to need a little medication. I was opposed to it. I frowned upon it and turned my face up at her.

“There is no way I’m taking any drugs for feeling sad. That’s not a good reason to ask my doctor for medication. I can get over this. I’m just complaining and it will pass.”

Only, it wasn’t going away. Then my husband added his thoughts and told me, I didn’t look like myself. I wasn’t me and that its okay to ask for help. After weeks of being convinced and telling Jesus all about my troubles, I asked my doctor and she prescribed a low dosage of Zoloft. Only 30 days.

Then I decided to do what I never do in church: participate. Yeah, I sing on the choir, but that’s it. So I decided to talk to Jesus more. Stop looking at other people. Praise him. Worship. Yell if I needed to yell. Speak LIFE into my situations. PRAY MORE. I told a great friend of ours, whose a minister all about struggling with postpartum. My mother in law told her mom, and they all prayed for me, husband included. They didn’t judge me. They just hugged me and took their concerns to Jesus. For that, I appreciated them.

I took those pills once a day for about 9 days. I didn’t need them anymore. I felt like a new person. I was back to my normal self, but better. I started job hunting, making content for my blog and social media, reading to my baby, indulging in intimate times with my hubby, hung with my brother, went shopping, just…..did things that made me happy. I realized when I was happy, I can pour into my daughter and husband. I even let my daughter spend time with her grandparents for about 4 days! I’m also spending more time with God, and journaling. I’ve never felt better. For me, this journey took about two months but for someone else, it could take longer or shorter. I’m sure the next challenge is when I go back to work, but it is a challenge I’m ready for.

It is okay to have feelings like this as a new mom. The key is to get help. Don’t stay in it too long. Understand that you’re no good to people, if you can’t be good to yourself. You can’t pour from an empty cup. I’m here to tell you, that you can live the life you want and go for what you want. With God, It’s only up from here. 🙂

 

Stay tuned on Tips to Slay 2020 as a New Mom.