A woman’s walking slowly through her postpartum depressive states, from being flustered at becoming a mom, to now, slowly, getting a hang of it, translated…
From when we were growing up, we’d had many dreams, but most of them went bust, and we got to live, only, a couple of them, and, every time one dream shattered, we’d, lost a portion of our souls, and, our insides became, chaotic.
When I was pregnant with Strong, it was like this, and, with the number of times that were, displeasing to us in the prenatal checks, and, the undesirable results toward the end of my pregnancy, I’d felt, even more chaotic inside; although, I was, happy, and expectant, but, the unknowns of the future, the insomnia that came with the changes in my body, and the depressive moods, they’d all, tagged along.
As Strong was born, after the medics had, resuscitated him, and I’d heard him, cry with ALL his might, and then, I’d felt, overcome with joy, but, what followed us were, thirty-eight days’ worth of separation, anxiety, unsettlement, depression, angst, displease, and anger, with the visits we’d made to his side, having that slightest joy.
During my month long recovery phase, although I had my loved ones, but, I’d missed him so, and, I’d gotten, soaked up in how much I’d missed Strong, it’d become, salty as I’d, breathed. Until he was, released from Tzu-Chih Hospital, did I start, to feel a bit, happier, carefully, but I still didn’t feel safe enough, laughing, fearing, that I could, lose him at any time.
Although he was at home with me, I was still, constantly, hit with that wave of, unsettlement, and, constantly checked on him who’s asleep, to see if, he was, still breathing, plus the milking and the breastfeeding, sleep became, a driftwood that would, pass me by from time to time.
We’d gone through a period of time that seemed all right, and, I’d always, tried, busying myself, thinking, working, and getting pulled from the two ends of my opposite emotional spectrums, losing my memories, and at the same time, throwing my own judgments out the window, and, made a huge mistake as our shop opened, the mistake that simply, can’t be, repaired, beaten myself up, wanted to, dig my own grave.
But, Strong kept, smiling on, crying, asking for milk, asking for hugs. Called out to me, called out, repeatedly, and, I’d, crawled, back up onto the surfaces, readjusted myself, and started, breathing too.
These two years, I kept pondering about this. In his smiles, his frowns, his kicking his feet, waving his arms, flipping onto his front, crawling, standing with something to help him steady himself, falling down, laughing hard, walking, running, screaming, crying, I’d, forgotten the question I originally had.
I just know, that I’m already, in a cleared place, unknown, but filled, with hope, that’s not a part of me, but, will always, be a place, where my heart goes.
So, you’d, weathered through the uncertainties of your pregnancy, and, slowly, gotten to start to heal from your postpartum difficulties, as you should, because you’re a mother, and, you have the strength, to overcome.
Life, the Obstacle Course 