I finally gave in and tried an exercise routine yesterday. I've done a little walking with Leslie Sansone and some postnatal ab work with Erin O'Brien, but for the first time yesterday I pulled out a cardio and toning DVD: Buff Moms Beyond Baby Workout.
It whipped my butt! But with Savannah's encouragement, "Come on, Mom! You can do it," I made it through.
And you know what? I felt fantastic afterward! I felt like the fog had lifted and I could think a little more clearly. It's carried over into today, too.
I need to follow my own PPD description and get that exercise in.
Showing posts with label postpartum depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label postpartum depression. Show all posts
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
The Dreaded D-Word
Yes, I’ll say it. It may hurt, but here it goes...
DEPRESSION.
More specifically, Postpartum Depression.
There. It’s out. And it didn’t hurt too bad.
I thought I was fine, but I think it keeps creeping up like the co-worker you try to stay away from. You dodge them every time you see them coming and then while you’re getting a Diet Coke from the machine you turn around and there they are staring you right in the face. I think I’ll call her Debbie Downer from Saturday Night Live. That seems appropriate.
Except Debbie Downer isn’t staring me in the face. She’s hiding out in the dark corners of my mind. I don’t think about her until I find myself tearing up for no reason at all.
Or I realize that I’m snapping at my kids for no good reason.
Or Pat and I fight over the most minute things and can’t seem to get along.
I keep telling myself that it’s the fatigue. I’m tired, therefore I’m cranky and eating all kinds of crap to comfort myself, therefore I’m gaining weight instead of losing it, and therefore I feel even worse.
I think it’s more than exhaustion, though. I have feelings of despair, then it turns to rage, and a little hopelessness comes in for good measure. There’s some light, too. Pace melts my heart frequently, Sarah makes me laugh, and Savannah gives me these great bear hugs. Maybe they should call it Postpartum Bi-Polar Syndrome.
I feel so hot and cold, up and down, and all around. Three kids with a full-time job has turned out to be a little daunting. I’m also aggravated that I can’t be home with my kids. I had really hoped that I would have worked out a work-from-home plan by now, but it just never came to fruition. And here come the feelings of hopelessness.
I really don’t want to be Debbie Downer...
...so I’m working out a holistic plan, rather than medicinal, that includes a little yoga and meditation, a grateful list most nights along with more blogging, and cardio with a baby strapped to me – that will at least help with the weight issue. Maybe I can pop myself out of this. I know my family will be happier.
I’ll keep you posted.
If any of you ladies have any suggestions for me that worked for you, I'd love to hear them.
DEPRESSION.
More specifically, Postpartum Depression.
There. It’s out. And it didn’t hurt too bad.
I thought I was fine, but I think it keeps creeping up like the co-worker you try to stay away from. You dodge them every time you see them coming and then while you’re getting a Diet Coke from the machine you turn around and there they are staring you right in the face. I think I’ll call her Debbie Downer from Saturday Night Live. That seems appropriate.
Except Debbie Downer isn’t staring me in the face. She’s hiding out in the dark corners of my mind. I don’t think about her until I find myself tearing up for no reason at all.
Or I realize that I’m snapping at my kids for no good reason.
Or Pat and I fight over the most minute things and can’t seem to get along.
I keep telling myself that it’s the fatigue. I’m tired, therefore I’m cranky and eating all kinds of crap to comfort myself, therefore I’m gaining weight instead of losing it, and therefore I feel even worse.
I think it’s more than exhaustion, though. I have feelings of despair, then it turns to rage, and a little hopelessness comes in for good measure. There’s some light, too. Pace melts my heart frequently, Sarah makes me laugh, and Savannah gives me these great bear hugs. Maybe they should call it Postpartum Bi-Polar Syndrome.
I feel so hot and cold, up and down, and all around. Three kids with a full-time job has turned out to be a little daunting. I’m also aggravated that I can’t be home with my kids. I had really hoped that I would have worked out a work-from-home plan by now, but it just never came to fruition. And here come the feelings of hopelessness.
I really don’t want to be Debbie Downer...
...so I’m working out a holistic plan, rather than medicinal, that includes a little yoga and meditation, a grateful list most nights along with more blogging, and cardio with a baby strapped to me – that will at least help with the weight issue. Maybe I can pop myself out of this. I know my family will be happier.
I’ll keep you posted.
If any of you ladies have any suggestions for me that worked for you, I'd love to hear them.
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