I experienced some post-partum depression after the girls were born — almost a YEAR after they were born. That’s right. I don’t believe I had one free second with which to feel anything but exhaustion for the first non-stop eight or so months of their lives. I’m not complaining (not this second, anyway). This past fall and now winter have been the toughest months in terms of actual depressive emotions. What happened to my life?
You know what happened to my life? I WILLED IT TO CHANGE AND IT DID. Poor me, right? It’s not like the first time I thought about having a kid (a KID, mind you, not KIDS) I got pregnant right away and had a perfectly healthy baby and everything fell into place. No. That’s not it at all. I had two horrible (is there any other kind?) miscarriages before the girls came into the picture. They just showed up. No special drugs or test tubes. We had decided this was the last time we’d try for a child. If it didn’t work out, our lives would be child-free or we’d adopt. Then suddenly there were two of them.
I think it’s okay to mourn the idea of a singleton. There would certainly have been things about having one that would have been easier. But maybe I wouldn’t have been forced to stay home with them if there were only one. I sort of think this birdcage of twinsies is a good one, and it is as it should be. It’s just depressing sometimes, that’s all.
Parents, especially mothers (I can only say this from a mothers point of view) can become quite isolated when they have a child/children. Friends you thought would always be around suddenly are nowhere to be found, despite your wishes to have them be a part of your children’s life. But then other people, maybe people you didn’t expect to be open to your new family, show up out of nowhere. And you still have a life. It’s just different than you thought it’d be. But it’s still good and valid.
Keep your chin up. Chim chim and all of that.
20 Fingers, 20 Toes 