I hope so too. It was odd—I was googling “postpartum depression” yesterday as part of my writing process, and one of the first google entries was “is postpartum depression real?” That made me so sad. It’s so terribly real, but I get the sense that it’s still something people doubt/fear/stay quiet about.
Oh Margaret. It’s really strange looking back at a period of time and wondering what was going on, really, isn’t it. Particularly with that baby period because it’s all such a blurry tired messy time. Beautiful and full of love but also, kinda disconcerting. I did a lot of crying on my own on park benches with my eldest and I think I thought I was just lonely but I now in hindsight it was probably more than that. This poem really speaks to me, Tnx for sharing it x
Thank you for this tender reply, Nelly. It’s interesting to me that of all my children, this one (number four) is the one I keep returning to in poems. It’s like I’m still processing all of it, even though it was fourteen-plus years ago. It’s taken me forever to understand that the passage of time doesn’t make certain things less painful.
brain on post partum blink....such a struggle and painful. we are complicated and the research and development is still sketchy.
Yes…it feels like no matter how much knowledge about postpartum issues is out there, a lot of people still suffer in silence and shame.
I'm sorry this happened to you, it must have been awful. I hope women have more help with this these days, because I think it's quite common.
I hope so too. It was odd—I was googling “postpartum depression” yesterday as part of my writing process, and one of the first google entries was “is postpartum depression real?” That made me so sad. It’s so terribly real, but I get the sense that it’s still something people doubt/fear/stay quiet about.
Oh Margaret. It’s really strange looking back at a period of time and wondering what was going on, really, isn’t it. Particularly with that baby period because it’s all such a blurry tired messy time. Beautiful and full of love but also, kinda disconcerting. I did a lot of crying on my own on park benches with my eldest and I think I thought I was just lonely but I now in hindsight it was probably more than that. This poem really speaks to me, Tnx for sharing it x
Thank you for this tender reply, Nelly. It’s interesting to me that of all my children, this one (number four) is the one I keep returning to in poems. It’s like I’m still processing all of it, even though it was fourteen-plus years ago. It’s taken me forever to understand that the passage of time doesn’t make certain things less painful.
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