MY postpartum anxiety 

It’s mine, no one else’s. I’m the one living with it every day, alone. I never experienced this after having my first little human so this was all new to me. My newest little human was early, I had preeclampsia so they induced at 37 weeks. I had the worst, most traumatic, ever lasting birth. I seriously thought I was gonna die (I will explain this all in another blog). Perfection when I saw this little bundle, there were no issues, completely healthy and all mine. 

We went home and 2 days later the bilirubin results jumped to 19 and my stress sky rocketed and I felt like a failure. I cried and cried and yelled at every god and higher being I could think of. I needed a reason why my little human was having to go through this.

 My oldest little human went to spend a few days with his mamaw and papas so I could focus on little one and that made me feel even worse that I couldn’t keep them both home with me, that feeling when your child is leaving because your to stressed to focus on both children is world shattering. I was so embarrassed, I felt judged and worthless. I was not good enough to be a mom of two, because I was needing help. Sadly no one told me it was okay to ask for outside help, so I was left to feel all this pain, feeling like I failed both my little humans in that moment (it still sits inside my broken heart to this day).

 They sent the light blanket and bed to my house   (It came so quick and it looked like a baby tanning bed), and I lived on the floor in my living room for one of the worst weeks of my life. I could not hold,snuggle or rock my 3 day old baby to sleep for entire week. This stupid machine had to sit on the damn floor the entire time, it felt like my child was in a dog cage and someone else held the key to their freedom.

The first 48 hours felt like my little one was going be stuck in that bed forever and I’d never be able to hold and love on this little human just because I wanted too. I could only take the lights off for a bum change, the blanket had to stay on for all feedings though. I was not sleeping, just staring at this little human who could only be in a diaper ( I have no idea how they aren’t cold in that damn bed and blanket) which made me feel worse. I laid on that floor next to that machine, just so I could watch the movement of breathing, so I new that this little human was okay stuck in that machine. 

Every day meant a foot poke at the hospital, then back home in the machine and waiting for the numbers to go down. Those poor feet were poked 11 times, where I had to just watch and listen to screams of pain and feeling helpless (wanting to punch every nurse for doing their job but still causing my baby pain) the entire time.  

I felt like I was neglecting my oldest, because I was so consumed with making sure everything was going okay with the littlest human and I hate myself for giving my oldest any less love or attention just because I was new to being a mom of two and didn’t yet know how to divide my attention between two perfect little humans (I still have my days, where I feel like I still don’t know how too) who both deserve the best momma I can be and still a better one then me some days.  

Once littlest human was done with light bed and blanket, my postpartum anxiety hit (like a semi truck to the face). I panicked about every single thing, even though I wasn’t a new mom I sure felt like one (I seriously forgot how to do everything) and it stressed me out. I wasn’t sleeping, showering, barely eating and crying all the time because I was nursing and constantly feeling like I was starving my child.

 Every horrible article online about breastfeeding automatically made me think was me and I was going to starve my baby and not know it. No matter what anyone said I hated it, because I nEver truly knew how much they actually ate each time. 

I don’t know how mommas nurse full time for years, you are true inspirations and I am very jealous. So I only made it to three months, then I added formula. That helped with some of my anxiety and I felt great for a little while (and the anxiety meds my doc put me on were doing some of the work too) I thought that I had finally figured out the root of the problem, I was wrong. 

Everything seemed to trigger me, any article or movie could send me into a downward spiral. I started to feel like I failed this little human because I could not breastfeed longer because of my own anxiety. Honestly there was absolutely nothing I could do about it, or so I thought.

 I was lucky enough to have a best friend too ( ya she might live thousands of miles away right now but I can always teach her by phone) who seriously is always there for me even when I don’t deserve it. I can be selfish in the friendship, I won’t lie she is such a better friend then I am. I can honestly say, she saved me life. She let me know that I was not alone, and that a lot of women who go through what I am going through. Which helped a lot, because postpartum has turned into this big taboo thing that we just aren’t suppose to talk about (like, when men need Viagra?) WHY, because you think it makes you a bad mom, or less of a mom!? Well thats how I was made to feel. Well it’s Bullshit, it makes you a better mom, because your acknowledging something is wrong and you are asking for help. 

As women we need to stand together, and share our stories. There are other women outs there, feeling lost and alone because they have no idea that there are other women in that same sinking boat, feeling alone and scared with no one to turn too. We need to stop making postpartum Anxiety and Depression this awkward and scary subject because if it weren’t it could save thousands of lives. Sadly it took me going through and still dealing with hell before I was even made aware how serious postpartum is, no matter how big or small your pain is, it matters and there is helo. So please if you read this and have any similar feelings or know someone who does, talk to your doctor, your spouse, family or there are even hotlines for help your hospitals have contact information for, all it takes is you asking for help.
Thank if you read to the end, until next time.

Mrs. DM ❤ 


Today’s Resentment

Just call me Mrs. DM, I do not and will not sensor my life, my comments or content (that includes grammar, I might be almost 30 but my grammar is pretty much nonexistent) If you get your panties in a bunch, it’s probably because you relate to my chaos and are uncomfortable with the fact that I’m not scared to share my ups and downs (more downs then ups lately).

I have two beautiful children, and an amazing hard working husband (tomorrow, I might feel completely different about him lol) who I love unconditionally no matter how much I will rant and vent about them.

I am a disfunctional, crazy, loving, grumpy, lazy, anxious momma. I will not lie and tell you I am perfect, and I never loose my shit, and hide under the covers (because it’s noon and we are all still in my bed eating and watching cartoons)  when I feel like I can’t handle life that day. I struggle with extreme postpartum anxiety since having my second child four months ago. I am also having some other medical issues, that I will not air to the world because they are not the reason I’m a shit mom sometimes, I am. I will never blame that on anyone or anything, I own that 1000%.

My house is never spotless, I do not keep up on laundry or dishes. I have a mountain of laundry downstairs that is clean that I keep coming up with a million reasons not to put it away that day or I have just completely forgotten about it. And sadly my husband is the one that washed it because I piled it all in to one laundry basket and he got tired of staring at it, And I don’t feel bad he washed it either. And here is why, he works his ass off Monday through Friday and I will never not be grateful for him supporting our family, but once he is home from work he does only what he wants. Don’t get me wrong he does deserve some “me” time for all his hard work because I know he busts his ass every day for 12 hours a day. He has picked up doing dishes and laundry for me and I am thankful for that. My issue, my anger and resentment are because he does not full time PARENT! He does what he wants when he wants, he works outside, sits down in his man cave (yes he has his own man cave that is bigger then our own bedroom), goes shooting, to families house to help them (yes, with out me and the kids because god forbid I would want to get out of the house too) or is in the garage building something (none of which is something I asked him to build over a month ago). He does all these things while I’m doing what I do every damn day, at home keeping two perfect little humans alive with goldfish, suckers and juice (those are obviously for my almost 2 year old).

He does make sure he spends a little bit with them when he his home, but 93% of the time he is doing anything else. Once he comes home he sits with the oldest so I can start making food and go pee finally. Once I’m done doing what I needed to do, he is gone and I don’t see him again for a few hours unless I text him telling him I need go to come sit with the kids or bring something up from downstairs.

My husband and I spoke about this issue today when he came home, briefly. He started telling me about all he has planned to get done this weekend, none of it included the kids or I (once again). As he continues to tell me, he can see my irritation while he tells me and asks what’s wrong. My exact word were ” it must be nice to be able to make plans and come and go as you want and not have to worry about the kids.” An his response, “are you saying I don’t help with the kids?” And i told him I never said that and then he just continued on informing me his weekend plans. Not once did he ask if I had plans (because moms never have plans unless it’s a scheduled pee break… alone, who am I  kidding, more like a scheduled pee break with only one kid in tow) or if I wanted to do anything as a family or even acknowledge my frustration. An then he proceeded to his man cave to eat dinner, alone while I’m upstairs being a jungle gym while trying to feed myself for the first time today hoping to get just a few bites of my salad.

Well now it’s almost midnight, I put the little humans to bed, and I’m on the couch catching up on shows (thank god for Hulu) that make my days better at 2 am when I’m enjoying my only alone time. He just went to bed because of Course he is getting up early tomorrow…. An I’m just hoping I make it through a night where I’m not up 11 times making sure the little humans are fine (currently bed training and my oldest is having a hard time).

When will I be able to let him know that all this is building up inside me and I’m gonna loose it, because obviously I am to damn stubborn to have a deep serious conversation with him about it all.. I just expect him to read my damn mind and fix everything before I do loose it. I don’t know if anyone else out there who read this (if anyone ever even reads this) has the same issue as I do but if you do and have found a solution or just in the same damn sinking boat, let me know. This was probably a very scattered blog, cut me some slack momsters I’m new to this. Thank you to whoever actually takes the time to read my chaos.

Goodnight- Mrs. DM ❤



Who am I 

When I think about it, the first thing that comes to mind is, a mom. That’s it for me, the most important part, role, job about me is being my little humans momma. 

This blog is about my everyday life, the times I want to pull my hair out, cuddle,kiss, and scream all at the same time. It’s the struggles, ups and downs of a stay at home wife and mother, uncensored.  I have no filter, I cuss a lot and will not censor that for anyone.