Postpartum

Postpartum Reflection

Postpartum feels like walking into an empty room. You just feel empty. You no longer know who you are, who you once were, or what you wanted to do. It’s almost as if you lose your sense of self; it’s madness. You always hear about "postpartum this" or "postpartum that," but what I never knew about was postpartum rage and how intense it could be.

When we had our newborn baby—she was only two months old—I hated her. I mean, I loved her, but I think I hated her more in those moments. I was so disconnected. I was angry because I couldn't do anything I wanted to do anymore. My life was completely different. Then we got a puppy, which was my biggest regret. We should’ve waited, but he was free. I never even knew the term "postpartum rage" until we got our dog.

As bad as this sounds, I was horrible. All my anger went out on the dog. Why this dog still loves me is beyond me, but the amount of patience and love he has is incredible. I can truly say I love this dog now. He gets on my nerves—but what animal doesn’t? At the time, though, I was struggling to adjust to motherhood and trying to find my identity. Because I was no longer who I used to be, I had to grow and relearn everything. It was hard, and it was heartbreaking.

I moved across the country, had a kid I thought I would never have, and now I’m a "whole ass mom." It’s cool; she’s my best little friend. I love her to death, and she’s my entire world. Postpartum hits people in different ways, and for me, I wasn’t really depressed—I was angry. I was so angry.

My husband was such a trooper: so patient, so supportive, and so understanding. I couldn’t have found a better partner. Being able to be myself, have those breakdowns, and cry every time I turned around was so important. I was able to be vulnerable in ways I never thought I could be. I love being a mom; it’s so rewarding to see her grow and watch her personality develop.

Nobody talks about postpartum rage, and I wish people did. I wish I had known more about it because I was completely blindsided. It got to the point where I didn’t recognize who I was or who I was becoming, so I got help. I started seeing a therapist and started taking anxiety medication. As much as I hate taking medication, it’s helped more than I realized it ever could. I have more patience now; I’m calm, and I’m genuinely happy.