First of all, I am incredibly moved by your story. Not because I have breast cancer, or know someone who does, but because you admit this crap isn't
easy. Here is why, I have to explain some of my back ground to make sense.
I suffered post partum depression. Not the Mother Dearest kind, just over worrying and seperation anxiety to the extreme. Learning to mother, for me,
was increeedddiibblllyyy hard. Here I was with this beautiful innocent baby in my arms, and I would look around at all the other mothers and fathers
in the Pediatric's waiting room filled with hatred.
How are they wearing makeup and dressed to the 9's? My child had colic, we -literally- did not sleep. Ever. For the better part of three months. I
came to Dr's visits in pajamas and a bird's nest for hair. Here these ladies are, already back to work after a couple of weeks. They all must be
As the post partum faded, and I blossomed into what I like to think is a FANTASTIC mother, I started to speak out to other women about what I went
through. When a friend with a small child would dote on what a "good" baby they had, I was honest. "He had colic. I had post partum. It was hell"..
You don't read about that in baby books, you read about the greatest joy you will face as a woman. They left a few things out.
I was wildly honest with our trials and tribulations, I let my friends know we had trouble bonding, I let them know I struggled and never cleaned
the house the first three months. Then...privately...a friend sought me out. "Val, I really need to talk to you".
I had my friend over and we sat outside for a while and talked. Eventually she said "Can we sit in your car? This is really private" no one was home,
but I agreed to make her comfortable. Sitting cramped in my messy car she confided " I never bonded with my second child. It's been hell. No one talks
about this but you and I need help. She -never- stops screaming". I said "Sweetheart, it's okay, just spill it all" and she did. And she cried. And I
cried. And I helped her.
Not trying to make this about me, but here is the point:
Women have this drive to go through great trials and tribulations stalwart and with their heads held high. We are STRONG women! Right? Women are
crazy, right? If we wear pajamas to a Dr. appointment, might we be letting ourselves go? This crap is exhausting. I decided I was going to end this,
and SO DID YOU!
Women feel like they can't talk about this stuff. Because a bunch of Maya Angelou's came around and glorified horrible experiences. I feel this huge
weight on the shoulders of women now to just keep it together, be it post partum with a colic baby or breast cancer for goodness sakes!
These things are hard. You need help. Do not be ashamed, and good for you for being honest and stopping this madness women have been feeding for too
long (IMO). When we all stop fueling this fire I think the gender as a whole will breathe a sigh of relief.
As far as what I have to say about those women...
The illusion of effortlessness requires a great effort indeed.
S+F, this thread could change someone's life.
edit on 15-1-2012 by ValentineWiggin because: (no reason given)