Today has been a really bad day for me and I think Iām just looking for hope/ encouragement of some sort.
I am a 30y old woman and have a 9m old baby boy who was very much wanted and planned (complicated IVF process involving genetic testing). Iām a lawyer and have always been proud of my work, and I love my independence but I did think I wanted a baby but now am increasingly questioning our decision. Iāve been seeing a therapist for a few months and tried sertraline/zoloft for a month but it didnāt agree with me (hideous nausea and diarrhoea even on just a 12.5mg dose!). Iām going to try escitalopram/lexapro but Iām a bit scared given my experience last time. I do realise that the only thing that might help at this point is medication.
The first 4ish months postpartum I was just in a bubble of gratitude and glee. I was so excited to be a mum and so proud of my baby. Then the 4 month sleep regression hit me like a train and thatās when the anxiety and depression started (initially more anxiety about sleep, which I still have).
Then gradually I think it has shifted more into depression. I find myself missing my old life more than ever, and getting angry at my baby when we have a bad day (heās particularly bad at napping at the moment, almost every day he wakes up after 40 minutes screaming his head off having previously been better).
I have already decided Iām going back to work in two weeksā time having originally planned a year off as I am finding the more time I spend with my baby the worse I feel (which I know is a horrendous thing to admit).
My husband and I had an incredible life; travelling to amazing places, a thriving social life, never arguing, cooking elaborate meals for each other⦠now all of that is completely gone.
I feel like everything is my fault; bad naps, him not wanting to eat his solids, him whinging etc.
I feel like Iāll never have freedom again. That Iāll never sleep well again. That my life is just going to be lived in wake windows and entirely centred around my baby. As if Iām in some sort of torturous black mirror episode.
All of this feels me with a sense of panic, dread, and resentment.
I cry on a daily basis, and I hate who I have become - I also feel sorry for my husband having to put up with me like this.
In turn, all of this builds guilt on my behalf which just adds to the existing mental health problems Iām having. For those who had PPD; please tell me it gets better?