Hard pills to swallow.

HARD PILLS TO SWALLOW

This isn’t for opinions or criticism, these are my thoughts and if you choose to read it, I hope it helps you in one way or another.

I hate being alone.

I haven’t been alone since Kamden was born.

I’m no longer scared all the time that everyone is going to leave me because I have him.

At 4:30 in the morning when he has the giggles and wants to talk, I’m not going to get mad, I’m going to soak up that moment.

When he doesn’t want to go back to sleep in the middle of the night, I roll him on top of my chest and he snuggles his head into my neck; I’m know going to miss this.

Sleep training? In his own bed? It's not for me. Not yet anyways.

I need him.

He feels like home.

This is home...

I know I’ve talked about my postpartum obsession with him and while that may seem like a joke, I really am head over heels in love with this baby who was made with the person I love, grew inside me, and then took a piece of my heart to live outside of me.

But postpartum depression/anxiety?

I don’t know what that’s like.

Not really.

I do know what it’s like to be struggling with PTSD (from my much talked about hospital experience), find out you’re pregnant, have to go off all of your meds that keep you sane, and then you don’t care about yourself or the baby you’re growing.

It’s hard and it’s really frickin scary.

The thoughts I had; they weren't happy. And I won't choose to share them with you.

I'm ashamed that I went through that and that I didn't tell anyone exactly what was going on in my head.

But I did have Keith and family/friends showing up for me every damn day and always making sure that I was ok, even when I wasn't ok.

I’m on anxiety meds currently that work for me. I speak to a therapist often. And I try my best to reach out to family when I'm having a bad day because I just can't do it alone... no one can.

Sometimes I see people in hospital beds on social media and get jealous. Like I actually think about how I took my time in the hospital for granted. How I wouldn’t mind being there, in bed, taken care of, for just a night...

Is that weird?

I was fighting for my life.

And fighting the nightmares that were going on inside my own head.

But it was simple.

Wake up. Kick ass. Repeat...

The journey was necessary.

The journey is necessary.

You don’t want to, but you have to.

Here is where I belong. Here is home. Here is where I need to be.

My coffee is always cold, my floor is scattered with toys, and there’s always baby drool on my shirt. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just remember you can’t pour from an empty cup.

Xo ✨