Postpartum doesn't have a time limit when you're alone..

 Post-partum depression was something I didn't experience until my last child.  I'm unsure if the fact that she's a girl had anything to do with it.  My first two children were boys.  Each of my kids has widely opened my eyes to new meanings in life.  My firstborn and oldest son more or less grew up with me.  Although I was smarter and one of the more responsible around my age I still made some horrible decisions.  Some people wouldn't change a thing looking back.  Not me.  If I could go back and make different choices, I would.  There's no doubt about it.  I have regrets, but I also am smart enough to know that I can't dwell on them.  By dwelling on them I'd just be holding myself back from new experiences.  The only way I'll be able to live each day is by accepting those regrets as the choices they were; the lessons they've been for me.  It's not easy to do and some days the battle wears me out.  Growing up I used to tell myself that I wanted to have all of my children by the age of 35, now at 40 I feel that people should wait until they're 35.  At 18 I loved my son more than anything and while part of me knew I'd be raising him alone there was a strong part of me that wished his dad wanted a relationship with me.  I never really thought about my choices were affecting my child.  One of the worst feelings I've had to face is knowing that my child at one point in time thought I didn't love him.  It's like a slap in the face when someone brings it to your attention.  I was so selfish, lost, scared, and confused, which caused me to run.  I would come and go as I pleased. It was so easy when we lived at home with my mom.  It was one of those "you pay for what you don't pay for" situations.  Maybe I should have been more thankful.  Maybe I should have made sure to get it right rather than impulsively embracing my pregnancies like they would land me into commitment.  Don't get me wrong, I love my children.  I just know that having them was very selfish of me.  I had them because I wanted them though why couldn't I have imagined how they'd feel about the scarcity of their fathers.  Making the choice to go through pregnancy and raising children alone wasn't exactly the way I had always dreamt and I tried to make a relationship work with each of my child's fathers though it just wasn't meant to be.  I've remained mildly connected to them and respect them for the most part.  I'm proud of them for their accomplishments.  That's not to say it didn't take a long time to get to this point and the progress I've made is lucky for them because I can understand the reasons for the choices they've made.  My kindness and ability to forgive provided better relationships and a less stressful atmosphere for the sake of my children.  Somewhere along the line someone needed to learn and be the bigger person.  Each situation gave me similar results just different scenarios and I'll create new posts for each experience.  It's been over six years since I had my last child; my only girl.  I'm not really sure if it's a combination of each stage or if one takes precedence over the other but throughout my whole pregnancy, labor, and delivery I've had a rough time. Although my mom says it's unbelievable I feel that the inability to seek professional help is what allowed my postpartum depression to go on for years. After delivering her I hemorrhaged and I think that fast loss of blood flipped my world upside down.  I felt no connection to my daughter and neither of my sons cared too much about helping me.  It breaks my heart to know that my daughter was pushed away by everyone that surrounded her.  Everyone she had in her life to care for her that she looked up to, pushed her away.  It felt like it was one thing after another once I brought her home.  Three teenage boys were at my house while I was in the hospital and when I got home all I wanted to do was take a shower because I hadn't for three days.  When I walked into my apartment with my baby girl,  I wanted to hide my face and grab my hair.  The smell was awful from the toilet backing up and flowing onto the bathroom floor.  Then there was the wonderful sight of my towels on the floor, soaking it up.  Not one was clean.  Needless to say, I wasn't able to take my shower as planned.  I spent a lot of time laying on my couch.  Sleeping.  My plants died.  My kids didn't go to school.  I'd been lonely, sad, and exhausted.  My boys were suffering because I've been selfish. From then on I had to leave the job I'd been at for so long when the employer screwed me over while I was away on maternity leave, I worked at another nursing home for a little while until my dad died unexpectedly, then it was the pandemic, my car broke down, my kids were both on probation and pins, and here I was with my newborn baby girl who I referred to as "this baby", not doing so great inside. The fact that I experienced such a chain of events like that I feel it negatively impacted my postpartum depression.  To this day I still struggle and it's taken me so long to improve myself because that's all I've had.  Myself.  I've had to heal on my own and raise my kids which has been one of the hardest things for me to go through.  Now that I'm older I think about how it's been for my children to go through. One day at a time....