Eight Weeks

Well, eight weeks tomorrow, but close enough. When I see or hear eight weeks it doesn’t seem long at all. But when I look at the way my life is now — with a routine to my days and a happy, healthy boy — I feel like this is all I’ve ever known. It’s been quite a ride of adjustment.

I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and am now taking the lowest dose of medication for it. I was hoping to not have to go on medication — I wanted to fix it myself. However, the days were getting worse, and my answers on the questionnaire clearly stated I needed a little help. I’m OK with it now because I know that this depression is hormone related and that it’s totally situational. Eventually I’ll even out and be back to normal — er, new normal.

Eight weeks of fitting a baby into our lives. It’s truly amazing. I am blessed to have my husband around for six of those eight weeks helping me out, helping me get through the hospital visits, and helping me emotionally. He has been the greatest, I truly could not have asked for a better husband. That being said, he goes back to work tomorrow. It’s back to me and Michael for the daily grind. I feel confident, though. I have a routine growing with college so I won’t get stressed and behind, and I have a good idea of Michael’s own schedule. (I’m waiting for the time when all schedules get thrown out the window again due to another stage of growing for baby.)

Anyway, Michael is waking up and we need to get ready to head to church! Last week he was a charm during the entire service, so hopefully he’ll do the same today.

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