PPD, how can I explain it
I’ll take you frame by frame it

To have y’all jumpin’ shall we singin’ it

P is for Post, P is for Partum
The last D…well…that’s not that simple

It’s sorta like another way to say you’re all bummed out

It’s nine little letters that are missin’ here

And it fills you with dread and doubt

Bust it

Okay, so I did threaten promise to write more often, but alas…I just don’t got it in me.
I want to write about what the babies are up to, since this will undoubtedly be the best diary of their early months and years and my memory is shot to hell. But every time I think about posting, something comes up.

Something like this damn anxiety I have had since the babies were born.

People? I think I have post partum depression and I’m here to tell ya, it’s no fun.

I’ve heard that PPD often presents itself as anxiety, and with me that appears to be true. I don’t feel all stay-under-the-covers blue.  Which I have felt in the past (after a terrible post-grad school breakup with Mr. Cruel and a humiliating move home to my parents’ house), and this isn’t that.  But almost every day, I feel this sense of dread come over me like a black cloud, even when I’ve had a good day.  I have lots of help, and most days things are really good, but STILL in the late afternoons this weird anxiety comes over me. 

I don’t have any physical symptoms (like having panic attacks) but out of nowhere, just feel rotten.  Blech. Blah.  And I worry about any upcoming change.  I freaked out daily in the weeks before BeBop went back to work after being home for six weeks.  I worried about the baby nurse taking a week off while my sister was here and then worried about my sister leaving.  I worried about my mother-in-law leaving after helping for two weeks and now I worry about the nanny starting and going back to work and Lord knows what else. Sometimes I worry about nothing, just feel worried…ANXIOUS.

And I’m tired of it.
So I’m starting Lexapro and we’ll see what happens.

Of course, being ME, I’ve already tried a veritable ASSLOAD of natural remedies, including but not limited to:  St. John’s Wort, homeopathics, chamomile tea (which?  WTF?  Why did I listen to THAT suggestion??), Bach Flower Remedies, some weird concoction that comes in a dropper – of course offered by my Mother – and another herb which is supposed to relax you but instead made my skin itch and God knows what else.

If you have any GOOD stories about taking medicine for PPD, please share.

If you have any horror stories, please DON’T. 

Good GAWD, the evil internet is chock full o’ stories warning me that Lexapro is the Devil’s Doing, and that if I ever decide to stop taking it I will endure  all nine circles of hell and wish I was detoxing from heroin.
I stuck my head in the sand (= resisted the magnetic siren song of Mistress Google) throughout my IVF cycle and my pregnancy and all that worked out pretty well for me, so I’m planning on repeating that now. 

But really, if you have some positive words to share, I’m all ears…

And in the meantime, here are the little lights of my life, PPD or not:

 

That extra padding I am now sporting is, I surmise, the reason I was snubbed from the Tyra Banks Show.

The producer called me one night and we chatted about my experience and why I willingly made an ass out of myself for all to see put those videos on YouTube.  It sounded like they wanted someone still trying to get pregnant, so my joyful outburst of "NO!  I NOW HAVE NEWBORN TWINS! TWINS I SAY!!" did not go over well.  But being the sharer that I am, I directed her to my blogroll and said there were many fabulous women out there in the blogosphere still trying….but HEY, I would love to come to New York and be on the show just the same.

So later that night despite the fact that I am delirious due to lack of sleep I e-mailed her several recent photos as requested and I guess the transformation (to put it lightly) from my pre-babies YouTube Self (which wasn’t any great shakes to begin with mind you) to….errrr….uh, what I look like today did not cut the Tyra mustard and I never heard from her again.

C’est la vie I guess.

I am continually amazed at those of you who continue to post regularly with new babies at home…I want to write almost every day, but I just can’t seem to find a block of time needed to sit down and compose anything close to a cogent thought.

Really.

I am one stick short of a corn dog and yes, I did just make that up and NO, it doesn’t make any sense but there you go.

I want this blog to continue to be a journal of this entire experience, but I am finding it so hard to write. I am finding it hard to do anything besides cope, for God’s sake, and truly things are good…I can’t imagine the basket case I would be if we had major issues with the babies.

I still have help from the baby nurse and I found a great nanny who will start in a few weeks.  My wonderful mother-in-law is in town for two weeks and she helps me change and feed the twins and she cooks and cleans like a MoFo, so I am being spoiled.  People do my laundry and empty my dish washer and still, STILL!, I am beyond exhausted and overwhelmed.

And the babies?  (ENOUGH of your whining Watson, for crissakes, what about the freaking KIDS I can almost hear you say.) Sweet Jesus they’re cute and I know that’s so friggin’ obnoxious but it’s true!  They now eat  about every four hours and so far, no major issues with colic or reflux and for that I am eternally grateful.  Really. Each night after the 10:00 PM feeding I take Bosco out to pee in the backyard and in the dark of night I look to the heavens and say thank you, dear God thank you for these babies and for their good health.  And I can see my breath in the cold air and as I look beyond our lemon tree to the night sky, I fill myself with gratitude, for just one perfect moment.

And so far they’re pretty good sleepers too…they still sleep a lot of the day away, but at six weeks they’re starting to stay up between feedings to ‘play,’ which often consists of me putting them on the jungle-themed play mat or the boppy pillow, sometimes posing them in fake isn’t that the cutest twin thing EVER poses and blinding them with the flash of the digital camera.

My mood has been crazy. If you couldn’t tell.  I spent the first three weeks crying my bloody head off, and the anxiety was almost crippling.  Although the hourly crying jags have stopped, I still have many moments of sheer terror that I am screwing these kids up for life, and many, many moments of self-doubt.  (But on the bright side I don’t have to worry about THIS.) At least I got that going for me.

And if that damn link didn’t work, it was to a story about twins, separated at birth, who unwittingly MARRIED EACH OTHER. Go ahead, Google it, you know you want to.

I will soon (and by ‘soon’ I mean before 2010 if I’m lucky) write a post entitled Motherhood:  Why I Am Ill-Suited To This Job.

But we go on.  Each day brings new joys and new fears and the lack of sleep is having a profound effect on me.  And NOT in a good way.  Thus you will also soon be treated to a post called Lexapros and Cons.

And if you’re really lucky, maybe a post titled Who Do I Have To Blow To Get A Clean Paci Around Here?

I know!  Can’t WAIT, can ya?

So in the meantime, feast your peepers on these shots, AKA the Damn Photos That Ended My Future Career As An IVF Talk Show Circuit Super Star:

Mommy put on lipstick, for the LOVE OF GAWD

Mommy and Jaxy Waxy Cottontail and YES, I do really talk like that now believe it or not

Mommy and Parker Pee Pants and SEE! I told you.