Peccadilloes and Brussels Sprouts

After having Oldest, I realized pregnancy and labor & delivery had changed my body in many ways, but one change I neither counted on nor initially realized was that I developed post-partum depression (PPD). I was 32, happily married, the mother of a beautiful baby boy, and miserable. But I did what I often think I do best…I buffaloed my way through the dark days and survived. And for the most part things were moderately good and then got better.

Then I had a miscarriage. And the darkness that I attributed to losing that baby came and just never left. When Middlest arrived 13 months later, I had gained not only more stretch marks and grey hairs, but the ability to recognize just how dark my emotional place was. Within two weeks of her birth I was on Zoloft and I started to inch my way towards a brighter place.

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