Dear Husband, This Is What Postpartum Depression Looks Like

Dear Husband,

I should take some time to I want to thank you for giving me this wonderful gift. Having a baby is a dream come true. I know you don’t understand why I don’t seem happy after the dream. Trust me, some days I have a hard time understand why too.

We were both nervous about the birth and when the baby would arrive. After we got past that hurdle, we were on a euphoric high. Family came in town, friends brought food, and the visitors made sure we weren’t alone.

And then several weeks went by.

Then a few months.

And reality really started to settle in. I know that I’m not myself, but I don’t want to admit that something may be wrong. That I may be struggling with postpartum depression.

I returned to work, and the balancing act began. This is not my first rodeo, so I know what life after maternity leave looks and feels like.

It’s chaotic. It’s overwhelming. But eventually I get back into the groove of things.

This time, it’s a little bit harder. People are nice. They ask about the baby. My mom still comes into town and helps. Your mom takes care of the baby, so I never have to worry about him while I’m at work.

He’s a happy baby, and has no health problems. I’m breastfeeding and he eats nonstop. I’m thankful that I can breastfeed again, and that he is happy and satisfied.

I know sometimes I smile at him and scowl at you. I pull away from your touch. I promise, you are still attractive to me. In fact, probably more so than before we were married. Watching you hug him and love him makes me love you even more.

Seeing you being a great dad is sexy. And you are a great husband.

I feel lucky when you tell me how beautiful I am despite the bags under my eyes and the remants of bells palsy.

When I hear other women complain about what their husbands don’t do, I am glad that we don’t have those problems.

I’m sorry you feel like I’m not attracted to you, but I promise I really am. I’m not sure why my heart smiles at you, but my body seems to repel you.

When you ask me why I’m staring off into space, and what’s on my mind, I really can’t tell you why. I don’t know why I can’t stay in the moment sometimes.

You haven’t done anything wrong, and neither have the kids.

We really have a good thing going on. In fact, I’m often giving other moms advice about what to do after baby.

I want that intimacy with you, my husband. I want to make you happy. But there is a part of me that wants to be happy too.

Intimacy means that I am uncomfortable.

I know that makes no sense because, well, I know, we’re married! I shouldn’t have apprehension about intimacy, but I do. The physical part is daunting because my body is not where I want it to be. I know that sometimes my expectations for myself are unrealistic.

Breastfeeding is down to a science, but sometimes I want to be free. I don’t want to be attached to the baby, or you.

I know that sounds bad. Especially because I’m telling you that I love you. If I could be different for you, I would. I would snap back to normal in a heartbeat. But these days, I’m struggling. I don’t know what normal looks like anymore.