Hi...I'm Katie, and I'm an...

Well, readers, it turns out those feelings of desperation and hopelessness that I had about Benjamin eating? Didn't really go away, and, in fact, they got worse. So bad, in fact, that on Monday I was crying for about 5 hours straight, while I stood in the middle of the room clenching my fists, and my body, so that I didn't just start screaming at the top of my lungs. Also, turns out, that that's not normal. But I bet you already knew that. :o)

As I sobbed on the phone to my mom (wonderful woman!), she ventured a guess that what I was feeling was more than just simple frustration at having a colicky baby, and she advised me to see a doctor and get a blessing. Not necessarily in that order. So that night we had our home teachers come over and help Jeff give me a blessing. It was so wonderful, and really helped me feel like there was something that I could do about this whole thing. I love our ward, and all the people in it, but Monday night it actually felt like our home teachers were our family. I LOVE the Priesthood!! What an incredible thing, to have that power given to us from the Lord! And that our husbands, fathers, and brothers can use it to bless our lives and lift us up. Man, the Gospel is awesome!!!!!!!!!

On Tuesday I got an appointment with the doctor who delivered Benjamin, Dr. Henderson. He's a great person, someone who really listens, but is also very practical, and he's a member of the Church (an old Bishop, in fact), so I felt sure that he would understand me. Because I could only tell a member of the Church that I knew something was really really wrong with me because I felt the same kind of despair and hopelessness, combined with nauseousness, that I felt when I had committed serious sin, and have them understand that.

It was wonderful to tell a professional that I trusted that I dreaded when Benjamin woke up from a nap, that thoughts of the future filled me with anxiety and fear, that I cried at the drop of a hat, that I was fantasizing about going to live with my sister in Paris (actually, I wanted to be just like my sister, living in Paris, all by myself), and that I had even thought that I wanted to die, because then it would all be so much easier. Not that I wanted to kill myself (it wasn't nearly that bad) but I just wanted to go away, you know? And, intellectually, of course, I knew that those things weren't real, but it felt like it. The worst part was the feeling that I was weak, or that I was doing something wrong, because I wasn't figuring out things, like I had with the other kids.

But Dr. Henderson assured me that I wasn't weak, and I wasn't crazy, but I did have Postpartum Depression. I wasn't surprised at all, because I knew that something more was wrong than could just be fixed with praying a lot. Actually, Dr. Henderson had a really great insight: He said that for us Church members, sometimes the answer to our prayers is go to the doctor. Which was definitely my situation.

So to make a long story short (too late!), he put me on a low dose of anti-depressant, and I am now on serious medication for the first time in my life. Apparently you need to be on the medication for 6 months so you don't have a rebound situation. Jeff tells me to just think of it as a crutch that you use while you need it. I'm just glad that I'm the lowest dose available, so that it won't be so hard when it is time to get off of it. I took the first pill this morning, and so far, nothing much, but that's a good thing. It takes about 2 weeks for the full effect, I guess. Although you're supposed to feel the negative effects right away, which is good, because then you know that you don't want to use that particular medication, or dose, or whatever.

Well, this is a completely new experience for me, and I still have this feeling that I should just be able to be "strong enough" so that I'm not affected. But, really, it's something messed up with my hormones, so it's just something I'm getting taken care of, like a thyroid problem, or something. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

I also feel like I should put in a disclaimer that I don't have PPD just because Benjamin is such a hard baby, because he's actually a complete sweetheart, and has the best smiles, and snuggles, and is just great! He does have colicky times, which makes it harder, but it's not his fault. And I really love my baby.

And thanks for all of the supportive comments and emails that I got about my last message. It really does help. :o) And interestingly enough, I can't breastfeed while I'm on the medication, so I think that it was actually one of the Lord's "tender mercies" that I had gradually already gone to pumping, and that Benjamin was already on bottles, so that it wasn't a huge abrupt transition for the two of us. Apparently, the Lord, with his omnipotent view, knew that I was going to need to move Benjamin to bottles, when I didn't, and He made it so it was easier than it might have been. Wow, I am so humbled for all the blessings I am constantly receiving, even though I have felt so alone and forgotten. But we never are.