Well I have been trying to cope. It's been hard with a 3 year old running around and not paying attention to anything I say.
Breast feeding night and day. I feel like a giant boob. If she isn't hungry, she is doing it just for comfort.
Then you have two poopie diapers at the same time, while she is on the boob and the phone starts ringing while the neighbor next door locks herself out of her house and comes over to use the phone (still ringing) so the knocking at the door sets the 3 dogs off and I am too weak to pull the dogs away. Soooo everything finally gets calm and I try to get the toddler to nap. He doesn't want to nap so he throws a tantrum and then the baby wants the boob again. then knocking at the door again so the dogs go crazy yet again...I flip out. I cuss, I cry and I get pissed at the neighbor who was just trying to bring over a gift for the baby and the toddler.
So in the middle of the night husband asks the question. 'Honey, do you feel okay', I reply not really, just tired that's all. Husband then asks 'Are you getting depressed?, if so maybe you should take your medicine'
Am I getting depressed? I don't know, part of me says yes, the other part says I can deal with it, then there is the part of me that remembers my first pregnancy. Waking at 3 in the morning, yelling at my husband, crawling into the closet on the floor and calling my mother telling her that I was so close to the kitchen with all the knives and Michael was lucky he was holding the baby. I say I won't let it get that far again, but who am I to judge if I become depressed and then stay in denial.
I would like to think I know better this time.