It’s an overwhelming feeling to hold your new born in your arms. For a mother who just spent almost ten months in extreme discomfort, it’s a miracle every time she gives birth. Along with the tears in her eyes and the joy she feels, there is a reality which gets overlooked. Here is how I felt when experienced motherhood for the first time.

When I came back home with my little baby girl, I started to notice that even though I was blessed to have her, I struggled not to cry many times in a day. I was exhausted, there was no time for me to sleep as I had to get up for an hour long breastfeeding episode in every two hours. Apart from that the diaper change and burping fiasco were making my days even more burdensome.

I am not saying that I was not in love with my baby. I love her with all my heart but my heart was filled with immense sadness too and I was not able to wrap my mind around it. All through out my pregnancy, I was the happiest mom to be. I researched all the things I would do when my baby arrives. My delivery, even though it was a c-sec, went very smooth and I was home on the third day because of excellent recovery.

When I came home, there was a swarm of people waiting to meet my lil angel. They were all overjoyed just like me but it was just me who was anxious too. Every small task was making me have a panic attack. I started to dread those long sleepless nights. I was depressed to such an extent that the slightest movement of my baby scared me to death. I wanted her to sleep and the thought of her waking up used to strike me like a lightening bolt.

I felt guilty that I was not bonding with my baby. I was sad that I was not behaving like a good mother and I knew something was wrong. I remember when my husband tried to know how I was feeling, I sobbed uncontrollably and I told him that I don’t want to be alive anymore. My mind was playing scary games with me; I would picture horrible things happening to my little one and again feel guilty of imagining worst of things for her. I felt as if there was nothing left for me, I was a failure and I was not able to see an end to it.

When I hit rock bottom, this one man, who I was blaming in my heart for falling out of love with me, took me to the doctor. The doctor explained it to me that post partum depression is the worst thing which can happen to a mother and to a child too. She gave me some medicines to deal with my depression and asked my husband to be my cure.

From that day onwards, he made sure that I went for a walk everyday. He held my hand on all those long walk which made me feel better and relieved. The episodes lasted for a few moths before they started to fade. My role as a mother is still giving me anxiety issues but now I feel truly blessed to have a family who stood by me when I was a monster.

I am taking one day at a time and I am happy that I am doing good.