Imagine yourself, home just one week with your precious newborn, but that you don’t want to hold or for that matter touch, feed or bathe your perfectly innocent child. Some new mothers may never be able to relate to these thoughts because for some, an infant provides nothing but elation. However, for me, that situation was a reality. I experienced postpartum depression with not just one pregnancy, but two. I overcame both bouts, and I want to share my story in hopes of providing encouragement to anyone who is trying to come to terms with or currently battling mental illness.
Our first child, a boy, was a big baby, weighing in at 9 pounds, 3 ounces. He was undoubtedly our pride and joy, but I had an anxiety inside of me that from the time I was induced into labor had me questioning: Can I handle this? Will I be a good mom? Why am I feeling so overwhelmed?
My rational thoughts were telling me I would be a great mother. I knew that my husband and I would raise our son just as we had been raised, in a loving, respectful Christian home. However, the doubts and questions were taking precedence over my rational thoughts at an alarming pace.
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