Babycakes

As I'm slowly passing the halfway there mark of this pregnancy I'm beginning to wonder and worry about postpartem issues again. Will we have the same trouble breastfeeding as Emma and I did? (Thankfully, this time I'll know that despite early problems bf is completely possible). I wish Emma had gone longer than a year, but she weaned herself - and that was the only goal I set for us.

I worry about how Emma and Savannah will interact (how Em will handle not being the baby of the family?), but most of all I worry that the PPD will return. Sometimes I can't believe that it was as bad as it was; that perhaps my memory of it was not as clear due to the anxiety and panic attacks and depression. But then Jared clarifies everything and assures me it was just as horrible as I remember it to be. Thank god I got through it...we got through it. Without the support of my husband I would have surely gone under.

But knowing now what I didn't back then, I wonder if my knowledge is enough to prevent the total loss of myself. Surely I will be able to recognize the signs of impending "madness" (and I fondly call it), and surely I will be able to ask for help much earlier this time, if the depression does return. This time around I won't be ashamed or feel like less of a mother for needing help in caring for my child/ren. Because, really, even with the depression I was one hell of a mom.

In saying that, I'm confident that this time around will be different. I have no expectations that Savannah's birth will go perfectly simply because I want it to. I am realistic about life with a newborn. I understand that having a toddler and a newborn will cause stress and anxiety, but I know we'll be able to do this. Emma is really a breeze now and such a little spark of joy and fun, and I can't wait to see how she reacts to Savannah and how we grow and change once we're a family of 4.

I love when I try to talk myself out of anxieties. I end up feeling like Danny Tanner with the crescendoing sappy music, having just recited a lovely monologue about never giving up...or staying in school...or the correct ways to clean a countertop.

Or...something like that. The point is, I feel better. Thanks, me, for the pep talk.