Post Partum Depression is a bitch.

Yesterday, it hit me like a train. My babies are going to be one in a week. ONE! Where did time go? We went and ordered their birthday cake yesterday at Publix and picked up some Halloween cupcakes. We opted to not take them trick or treating this year, simply because we don't really know anyone in our neighborhood too well and I feel like we'd be going to the door saying "Trick or Treat - the candy is clearly for us" So we are going to sit in the yard and play with the boys and pass out candy. And then they will get a cupcake, Lesson1 in Cake 101.
So as I am watching them play in the kitchen yesterday, waiting for dinner to finish cooking - or baking rather. I sit down and can't really help but cry. And to make the tears fall even harder, H came over and hugged me and patted me and walked away. Yes, I did say walk.

I'm at a loss of words, I have no idea where there first year of life has simmered away to. It's literally like I have blinked and they're almost one. I can't even say '1' without tearing up. I'm so, so very happy that they've over come so much this year, and fought and persevered and grown and are healthy and happy. I feel like I have been in "survival mode" for this past year. Last year by this time I had made about 4 trips to Labor and Delivery. I would make another two before the end of the week only to be admitted and to have an emergency C-Section. I can't help but think about how things went downhill so, so very fast.

I feel like having to face the bitch of postpartum depression, and raise two babies at once has put me into this survival type mode. Where every day it's a focus on what I need to do, what needs to be accomplished, and what the boys needs are. I was doing really, really well with working out in the mornings but the boys have gotten really active so now its again a struggle. I'm debating on starting to go running. But it's more or less finding time to go. It'll come with time, I'm hoping to get back into working out after they go to bed 3 nights a week. I felt a lot better when I was working out, and I'm hoping to start weaning off of the Zoloft after the holidays when things aren't so stressful. There is no specific reason for the wean, just that I want to move on and move past this chapter. So in order to do this, I really need to start getting back into working out. Because I know it will help with it. I really hate what PPD has taken away from me. I hate that she said, 'Ha! That first year of snuggles and milestones and joy that mom's get - nope you wont!' or 'HA! You think you're a good mom think again!' PPD is a bitch. A big bitch and I hate what she has taken from me. I hate that. I hate it more than I can say, and I hate that I won't ever get this year back. All I can do, is continue the daily struggle against her. Where I look her in the face and say 'F Off!'. The bad days aren't as frequent as they once were, but they do come now with a bit more severity. It takes all the strength I have to take a shower, cry, pick myself up, get dressed and look in the mirror and tell myself this is how your day is going to go, you just have to make it to bed time. If you make it to bed time and get them down, you freaking rock. It seems to help, and if it gets too unbearable there is always a trip to Target to help with it. I never imagined, something like PPD would affect me, nor could I of ever imagined the stress it can cause on both myself and my family. I never realized how much of a horrible nightmare it could be until I reached out for help. I also never realized just how much it could overshadow my babies first year of life. Now granted, it wasn't all dark and scary and sad, but good days, great days were often overshadowed with too much fear, too much sadness, and too much of an overwhelming desire to run away. But not any longer, I may of fallen down and I may of allowed PPD to overshadow a great first year of H&L's life, but it won't happen during their second year. I will overcome this and I will tell her to shove it where the sun doesn't shine. This - is my goal for H&L's second year. To enjoy it, to breathe it all in, to let the little things go. To play in the rain, to laugh at messes, to cry from laughing so hard, to snuggle on rainy days, to go on adventures, to enjoy their life. Regardless of what it brings along with it. I will not let postpartum depression take it away from me, or from them.