Can I Vent For a Minute?

Okay okay, I already said this is hard right? The PPD is kicking in like a mother fucker. Last night my husband and I had a discussion while I sobbed about what we were both going through. He was having trouble understanding what it is exactly that I’m feeling and I was having trouble explaining it. Externally, as he pointed out, he has more on his plate than I do right now. He has enormous pressures at work, plus lack of sleep etc. etc. etc. I, meanwhile, have help and no deadlines or work at the moment. So why you falling apart? he rightfully wondered. He saw me go through this with Elby so he knows how out of control these feelings got for me last time but he somehow expected or hoped that since we’d been here before I’d be able to see that it’s all temporary and know that we’re going to get through it and that it does get better.

What he doesn’t get is that I can’t see anything intellectually through the haze of hormones that are ripping through my body right now. It’s not all day. Yesterday morning I felt good. Positive. “I can do this!” I thought to myself. Yesterday evening I was practically in the fetal position, crying, sure that I was soon to be a divorced single mom with twins and a regressed three-year-old who pees her pants daily. Seriously. Jon asked me what I thought was the worst case scenario and that’s what I told him. And I meant it. I was scared. Intellectually, I know that’s not going to happen but my hormones or whatever tell me a different story.

It can’t be explained unless you’ve been there. I can’t be talked out of it. But I do know it will pass. I do know that.

Jon listened to me and tried so hard to understand. He offered to buy me Brook Shield’s book “Down Came the Rain.” He says we’re a team. Intellectually I believe him.

Posted by Stefanie Wilder Taylor on January 18, 2008 6:10 pmUncategorized16 comments  


  1. Anonymous said,

    You are keeping me sane by knowing that I am not the only one going through this with a newborn(s). Thanks for your honesty. I’m right there with you right now.

    | January 18, 2008 @ 7:55 pm

  2. Deezee said,

    Vent away.

    Have you talked with your doctor?

    | January 18, 2008 @ 8:54 pm

  3. Stefanie said,

    Don’t worry y’all. I’m not going to Britney Spears out. I’m under the care of a great OB and, as always, a shrink to mind my Zozo.

    | January 18, 2008 @ 8:58 pm

  4. kiwidebra said,

    Hmmm…maybe instead of daytime help, try a night nurse? I had someone come over one night early on and while it didn’t solve all (AS IF!), it did enable me to at least get some sleep. Lack of sleep and hormones combined can be a killer. Now I will start to worry if you shave your head and attack a car with an umbrella…

    | January 18, 2008 @ 9:16 pm

  5. annie said,

    Vent! The husbands/fathers, I think, try to find (in their own way of helping) a solution. When I had a newborn, I was going through a lot of what you are describing. I would sob to my husband, and he suggested that if I couldn’t handle it, that we should hire a nanny (I had just taken leave from my job to stay at home with the baby). I thought then that he was being mean, but he thought he was being supportive.

    So, vent away here. They mean well, but they aren’t always helpful in the way we need them to be. I totally understand.

    | January 18, 2008 @ 9:25 pm

  6. Laural Dawn said,

    Vent away.
    I totally remember the feeling of NO ONE GETS IT. I wish I could do something to help you. But, I promise, this will pass, and you will start to feel better (and the Zoloft will kick in soon – cause it takes a few weeks).
    Take the good moments when you get them and cry when you have to.
    I really found screaming into a pillow helped me a LOT. Seriously.
    I really truly believe that no matter how understanding a husband tries to be there is no way you can explain it because it’s the irrationality of it all that is so baffling.

    | January 19, 2008 @ 12:50 am

  7. SUEB0B said,

    No. No. No. There is no such thing as having “more on your plate” than preemie twins and a toddler. No matter how stressful the job, one can always zone out for a few minutes, stroll to the break room for a snack, yack with a co-worker, etc. DO NOT MINIMIZE. You are doing something insanely difficult. Your job is not to do it smiling and laughing. Your job is to get through it with everyone healthy and alive. God bless you, sweetie.

    | January 19, 2008 @ 2:47 am

  8. Kyddryn said,

    Depression isn’t a reasoning illness. If it were, we wouldn’t need medication to treat it, we could use logic to vanquish the shadows. Instead, it is unreasonable and inexplicable. Hurrah.

    I warned my husband when we first met that I had it, it’s severe, it’s contagious, and I don’t medicate it. Yeah, yeah…in this particular instance, the drugs are worse than the disease, truly. Long story, not the place for it.

    Also, it isn’t alone, I have other beasts in the closet. Whee.

    You’ll make it through. Vent your spleen all you like…it’s YOUR blog, anyway!

    My heart aches for you. Although we’re strangers, were I anywhere nearby, I would come take a night shift or seven for you until you came off the hormon roller-coaster. Heh…I may be crazy, but I’m not an axe-murdering fiend, anyway. Once upon a time, we did that for each other, us humans…everyone lent a hand. If only it were still so.

    At least we can be here in spirit.

    | January 19, 2008 @ 2:58 am

  9. Lynsey said,



    | January 19, 2008 @ 4:25 am

  10. BlogWhore said,

    i remember cleaning my daughter’s ears when she was only a month or two old. i cleaned to close to her earlobe and she cried. i fell apart. right there. i worried that i damaged her earlobe forever. i lost all sense. and i yelled into her ear to make sure she could still hear me. that’s nuts.

    i went to my ob very shortly after for a Rx to lexapro.

    i’ve recovered, but can never achieve a decent wine buzz without feeling depressed.

    | January 19, 2008 @ 4:52 am

  11. Becky said,

    Those hormones ARE fuckers. I’m so sorry. I’ve been there too, threatened my husband with divorce, sworn that I was going to send my big son to live with HIS father, and contemplated killing myself.

    None of these things are me.

    Good luck, duder, and IM me if you need it. I’m here.

    | January 19, 2008 @ 4:24 pm

  12. sarah said,

    I remember it. so. clearly. My heart is breaking for you b/c I had that same intellectual/emotional gap that just couldn’t be bridged without time and zoloft.

    | January 19, 2008 @ 6:01 pm

  13. Amy said,

    The hardest thing I’ve ever done in my whole life is have twin premie babies at home. For me, the first four months were the hardest, when the sleep deprivation turned me into a shell of a person.

    I’m sorry your husband isn’t “getting it” in a way that helps you. Mine didn’t either. Still doesn’t. And my babies will turn 6 very soon!

    You are both doing your best though. And even though your best feels not so good, you ARE doing a great job. Believe me.

    This is hard! What you are going through is ridiculously difficult, confusing, frustrating and mind-numbing. I’d think you were crazy if you DIDN’T feel bonkers.

    | January 19, 2008 @ 6:18 pm

  14. Anonymous said,

    I really think you need to look into a night nanny for a few months instead of a day nanny. I now have 18 month old twins and a 6 year old. My Nanny started at 7 to 7 am. Sunday to Thursday nights. At 7 she came on and I could give my attention to my older child and/or make a real dinner. I would have a fabulous night sleep and wake up ready to go. During the day people call and can stop by you can actually feel human again. I did this for 8 weeks. Expensive but the best money ever spent. Let me know if you would like her info in a comment back to me and I will forward it to you. (she travels anywhere and even will do consultations on the phone to help you train them to sleep.)

    | January 20, 2008 @ 5:46 pm

  15. Michelle said,

    There is nothing harder than a preemie. Period. Make it a twosome, add a toddler and a working hubby into the mix, and you’ve got a recipe for potential disaster.

    I didn’t experience PPD with my daughter, so I didn’t recognize the signs with my son. Between running back and forth between my toddler and the NICU, that was an hour drive away, a husband who had to work constantly because I had to quit working and family in a different state, I was losing. I would sit and hold him, attached to his vent and all those wires and visualize myself dropping his fragile little body on the floor. Because, you know, that would solve all my problems. I wouldn’t have to abandon my daughter all the time to visit my baby who might not make it anyway, I wouldn’t have to try to explain to stupid family members that he’s not coming home any time soon, because no he’s not just a small newborn. God, I hate stupid people! I finally stopped answering the phone, unless it was the hospital. I even stopped talking to my Pastor, which I still feel guilty about to this day, simply because he is the nicest man, and afterwards he completely understood, as hopefully did everyone else I completely shut out.

    But, how messed up was that? I never admitted those feelings to anybody, and thankfully, I never acted on them, even though I saw myself doing that virtually every day. I still have never told anybody close to me that. My husband was trying so hard to be strong for us, when he had just lost his father, and could barely visit the hospital, so I felt I couldn’t burden him with my trivial feelings, and I had a toddler at home who needed her Mommy.

    Any way, I guess, my point is, vent, vent vent, seek help, do what ever you need to do. Your children need you, You need you. You can’t be the Mommy you need to be if you aren’t YOU. ICK!

    We’re here for you, listening, giving our support, commiserating! Just remember: Eventually the kids eventually grow up and move the hell out! (please? mine are 3 and 5, so it’s a long way off, but, dammit, Mommy hasn’t slept in 6 years!)

    | January 21, 2008 @ 6:06 pm

  16. Carter-Ann said,

    Wow, keep on venting! You deserve to. I don’t know if husbands can ever get it. I think it’s something they can’t ‘intellectually’ get…But seriously, you’re doing great.

    | January 31, 2008 @ 9:21 pm

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