Today at a birthday party I was asked if I had any advice for a friend that was pregnant with twins. First I joked that I would give her my blog address but that might scare her. Then, I bumbled about connecting with other twin moms (blogs included, but perhaps not mine), keeping the babies on a schedule, hiring a baby doula (if she could afford one) and renting a hospital grade pump instead of buying one.
I could have kicked myself after I got home. What is the ONE thing that I have learned these past three years? The inspiration, if you will, for this blog? The fear that resides permanently inside my head lest it return? The affliction that held me hostage from enjoying my beautiful daughters for so long? The triumph over which I feel such emotion every_single_day? The one thing in my life that I couldn't fix myself? The compassion I feel for others that have suffered much longer than I have, and continue to suffer? The experience in my life that has made me who I am today? That reminds me how far I'm come, and how strong I really am?
My first, and perhaps only response should have been to keep in touch with your doctor, know the signs of post-partum depression and God Dammit! not be afraid to ask for help. I should have relayed my ridiculous knack of concealing my depression from my husband, my mother and my best friend. My ability to justify my struggles each and every day with another ailment or worry. The utter depths that one can reach while still appearing normal to the outside world.
Then again, the other pieces of advice are much more tangible. And that's what people want, right? Each person has a journey to live, struggles to endure, and reasons for both. We can't always deflect other's troubles simply by bestowing warning. Life simply doesn't work that way.
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