The magic of a fearless birth can be beautiful and unbelievable. When I conceived my second baby, many things in my life were falling apart. For privacy reasons, I will not give too much detail, but I was determined to keep my depression from hindering my birth.
On the day she was born, everything was ready for the arrival of my second baby. Darrell was at work near Canada and my mom, my daughter (Leila, almost two) and I were on our way to my 39th week appointment at 10:30am. Being almost half an hour late, I grumpily waddled into the exam room and tried to ignore the noises of my mom and baby. The red raspberry leaf tea I drank everyday was working, making my small Braxton Hicks contractions stronger and more uncomfortable.
“How are you feeling?” The nurse looked straight into my eyes as she asked the question. I wondered if she could see how grumpy, tired, and worried I was.
“I’m exhausted, and stressed, but the baby feels fine,” I said, “How often do you see postpartum depression? I think I had a hard time with it after my first baby, but I never did anything about it. I can’t deal the issues my husband and I are having, and a new baby, and possibly PPD.”
