Is this PPD?

I've been medicated for depression since 2001. I was taken off them before I got pregnant with Alex, and stayed off them until she was weaned at 27 months. I was taking them until I got the stomach flu at 10 weeks pregnant with Atticus and couldn't keep anything down. Knowing I have a history of depression, I have been seeing a brain care specialist for months now and everyone is monitoring me for Postpartum Depression (PPD).

I'm not sure, but I think I'm coming down with it.

Everyone, medical, thought I was doing really well. I haven't had an appointment to see anyone in nearly 2 weeks. This week, I feel like I'm falling apart. I'm not sure what happened...

I'm still doing the good mommy stuff. He's got clean diapers, no diaper rash. Feed on demand - started feeling guilty about the pacifier, so we're nursing more (An author I read recently described nursing as being nibbled to death by caterpillars. I enjoy it more than that, but I can see the comparison). Feeling guilty about not pumping, so I haven't put it away. It's still here in the living room. Staring at me.

My nipple actually split the last time I used it, so I have to get my guts up to put it to my breast again. The split has healed; but there's nothing like watching blood and milk getting sucked out of your body, threatening to contaminate the precious half ounce you did manage to pump over the last 40 minutes... Yeah. Pumping and me still aren't buddies. Alex was well fed. She was 90th percentile for length and weight, she was constantly nursing, and I could get maybe half an ounce after pumping for 30 minutes. Atticus... our nursing relationship is weird - I'll blog it later, but I'm sure it's feeding into this PPD thing. And the pumping is even harder this time.

Without a supply of milk for him, I have to take him everywhere. That includes class. My professor is really sweet about it. When Atticus was really wee, he'd sleep and nurse through class. As he's getting bigger, he's less quiet and our nursing relationship is more fraught, so I take him out of the room to nurse. I'm missing class. I'm so embarrassed. I know my course grade is suffering. But at least my professor let me stick it out.

Since Atticus was late and I got mastitis the second week, I missed the first two weeks of class. The other course I was enrolled in, I was told to withdraw. I had already missed too much. Since I was no longer on track to get all my coursework done, I am no longer graduating in May. I'm taking two courses in the spring and another two in the fall. Because I am no longer enrolled in the correct number of courses, some of my financial aid has been withdrawn. I can't make rent in December.

The financial aid thing is a bummer. Since Bryn and I got married (I kind of waited to marry him because of this), I'm not sure how eligible I am for financial aid anymore. I filled out my last FAFSA before we got married, and now it's not my last FAFSA. Keep your fingers crossed for us, folks.

Money shouldn't be that big an issue. Bryn is working darn near full time now. The hourly rate isn't awesome, but it's more than $10/hour and more than 30 hours per week. It's not much, but we can make it through - we get food stamps. We get more food stamps than I think is ethical, but we manage to spend every cent every month. On top of that I get WIC. But money is an issue. Alex's child support isn't getting paid, so I have absolutely no money in the bank. I haven't for months. If I need money, I have to ask Bryn. I can't so much as treat myself to a cup of coffee in a nice cafe. I can't get Alex new shoes. I can't get the oil changed in the car. I can't pay the gas bill or the electric. I can't do anything without asking Bryn for money. And the first thing he asks is if I've spent all of the money he transferred last time. I haven't had more than $10 in my account for more than a few days (waiting for autopay on my phone) since July. Bryn's birthday is next week. His first since we got married. Am I really going to spend his money buying him a present? Last year, without the child support, this wasn't an issue - I had my financial aid. This year? I just want to know that my bills are getting paid. Is it cold in here?

So, my thesis fell through, for a lot of reasons. I knew what I wanted to do; everyone on my committee tweaked it until I didn't really recognize it. I did the reading that they wanted and discovered that what they wanted was stupid (like I thought) and I couldn't make a five page paper, let alone sixty-five, about how stupid my thesis was. I still think my original idea would work, but now I can't prove it. No one wanted to read it. Thesis option has been scratched. Since I'm not writing a thesis anymore, I need to take more courses and take broader comprehensive exams. So we're here in Burlington for another semester, at least.

I hate Burlington. Everything is more expensive than it needs to be. I have so few friends up here that I am surrounded by people and completely isolated at the same time. I am tethered to the house by my homework and the baby. Housework needs to get done increasingly by me now that Bryn is working so much. And no one just drops in. I miss having friends who would just drop by. I miss having friends I could drop in on. I don't know where a single one of my friends lives up here. Doesn't matter. They all have jobs too.

Family.
My mother moved up here! That was cool. She just finally got a job. Second day? She wakes up from a dead sleep with a sore throat. She gets to try again next week. I'm really worried. She has a history of absenteeism, and I don't want it following her to the new job. I worry about her health, but what is the English major going to tell the Registered Nurse?
My father still hasn't seen Atticus. He lives two hours away and hasn't made the trip. But he did write a check for his lifetime hunting and fishing license, so there's that. I haven't called him in months. Not even for his birthday. Daughter of the freaking year... I just hate the guilt-trips.
Bryn's mom... She came (from freaking Florida, Dad) to see Atticus; but she's gone home now.
Alex is awesome. Until she makes me want to throw her outside. The morning clothes argument. The afternoon homework struggle. The nightly bedtime battle. Thank God Nana lives nearby now.

Bryn. He's not a mind reader. He's a good man trying to make the best out of a bad situation. He works hard and he comes home tired and sore. I just want to curl up with him and let everything else go to hell. But he needs some alone time and time with his friends, and the baby and Alex need tending to...

I just wish I felt necessary. Bryn could handle the mornings without me if he got up earlier. And he could go to bed earlier if he weren't waiting up for me. I stress him out and make him worry; that's not contributing. I feed the baby. That's all I can do that Bryn can't do better on his own.

He knows that I'm not right. We just talked about it. He's been worried for three weeks now. I don't eat much. I don't hydrate. I shower on Wednesday and sometime during the weekend. I'm still going to class and getting all my homework done, but that's about it. The kitchen is gross. Mom being around has been helpful - she does dishes and laundry. She also holds the baby so I can do some stuff. But she isn't always here. And sometimes I need to go out.

Yesterday, I found myself running errands in three day old jeans and my hair was still in the ratty ponytail I'd put up the night before. I cleaned up a bit and took Al to caramel apple dipping, then ran home to start supper. Bryn got home, Al got home, and supper was still cooking. Then we had to leave for bowling with our resident advisors. Alex really wanted to go. We had promised... I took supper out of the oven and we went bowling.

It was nice getting out with everyone. And we weren't sitting in the dark ignoring each other. I didn't even score a 50... Bryn did really well. Alex did really well. I want to go again and prove that I can do better. I used to average between 150 and 175... But that was years ago.

I dropped Bryn and Al at home and went to a party. It was nice being out with people from the program (I guess I do know where one person lives...) and beyond. English people and queer folk were invited for board game night. I had to bring Atticus. I was dehydrated so I was confined to water. I was lousy at the board game and I was working on a headache, but I had fun. I think I talked too much. It's been a while since I talked to grown ups other than Bryn or Mom.

Today at a child's birthday party I think I was obviously not with it. The mom kept trying to include me in conversation and she smiled at me a lot. Alex's present was the smallest (and cheapest) and she specifically came over to compliment the game and thank me. I mean, I thought it was neat, but it wasn't that cool. And in hindsight, not a birthday party present. Too small, not showy enough. Al wasn't having much fun, which didn't help my mood. Store cake frosting gives Al a stomach ache, so she hates cake time. She's only ice skated once before, so falling down hurt but she was a trooper. I also failed to get her properly prepared. No hat, no gloves, no helmet. She got a loaner helmet. Remind me to check her for lice tomorrow. At the end of the party the mom thanked me for coming and hugged me. I nearly started crying. I was done. I'd nursed the baby twice, tended to Al's needs and whims, and comforted her poor feet, knees, and hands, stroked her ego and pointed out that no one finished their piece of cake. Al would not shut up most of the way home. I was so done. I just wanted to be done. I fell into Bryn's arms when we got home.

I wanted a nap. I hate that all I want to do is curl up in bed and watch Monsters Inc.

I have an appointment with my brain care specialist on Tuesday. Bryn and I think I need to go back on medication. I've been worse, but we need to get this now. Two or three weeks ago would have been better, but you work with what you've got.

If it were just the situational stuff, I'd be perfectly entitled to being down. Having just had a baby... why does that make me feel guilty about being down? I've always advocated for PPD selfcare, awareness, acceptance and love. It's hard to do it for myself.