Thankful

I will be the first to admit that I have a lot in my life to be thankful for. The fact that I got pregnant, had a healthy baby, and enjoy motherhood make up only the tip of my iceberg of thankfulness. Yes. I just typed iceberg of thankfulness. How lame. But, in my defense, I am trying some new sleeping techniques with M, because the insanity that is his sleeping schedule has GOT. TO. CHANGE. So far, the only changes round these parts have resulted in less sleep for Momma and Daddy, but we are staying positive. Which is, in my opinion, a crucial part of not wanting to chuck your screaming baby out the window at 2:17 am.

Anyhoo, perhaps if my brain can manage, I can type out a thrilling entry on sleep later on this week. Right now I am not so sure why I am even trying to come up with coherent words at this moment since my brain is on permanent mush mode. Wait...it is coming back to me...slowly...ummmm...thankfulness. Not to be confused with tankfulness, which I previously typed and have no earthly idea if that is even a word. It's officially not a word, thanks to the red squiggly line that Word bestowed below that combination of letters. Okay. Seriously. What in the hell am I even talking about at this point?

Focus! Back to the core of this entry, which at this point, there really isn't a core. I guess what I am trying (very hard) to say is that being a new parent has brought change after change to my life, most of the changes have been exceptionally good, but a few I could live without. However, the one change that I was dreading, and pretty much knew without a doubt would occur once I birthed a kid...never did.

I suffered from depression in college, severe depression. It came on slowly; I didn't understand what was happening. I lost my appetite. I started crying frequently. I quit attending classes. I stopped showering (my poor roommates). I poured a bottle of painkillers down my throat and tried very hard to swallow them, but couldn't follow through. I was hospitalized. I scared a lot of people. I got medication. I found a therapist. I slowly got better. It took intense self-examination and an extremely long time for me to talk about what I went through, what caused my breakdown and depression. I knew that I could never be truly free from depression; I just hoped that I would be able to keep it under control and realize when I needed help.

Once I got pregnant, I was thrilled beyond words. But, through my entire pregnancy the one thing looming at the back of my mind was post partum depression, and to what degree I would suffer its wrath. It still baffles me to this day, but somehow after I gave birth, I never once felt the cold, merciless fingers of depression clawing at my insides. I don't know how I escaped, since I was a prime candidate to be swallowed up into that void of sadness and confusion. Yet somehow, I made it through unscathed. Relief that depression hasn't taken its toll doesn't begin to describe how I feel each and every day. Life can be tough, I won't deny that simple fact, but it could be much tougher trying to manage everything through the haze of depression, which I have not had to do in a very long time. I can only pray that I will continue moving away from that part of my life and towards the part which encompasses baby kisses, chubby thighs, hot chocolate, good books, family hugs, and peanut butter ice cream.

Sweet Pete, life is really great and for that I am thankful.