I look at you,
and sometimes the darkness is so overwhelming that I forget:

I forget the way you smile with your whole face. 
I forget your toothy grin when I roar and blow raspberries on that sweet tummy.
I forget your chunky thighs, tiny fingers and toes, and natural curiosity.
I forget your bright blue innocent eyes.
I forget that to you, I am the whole world.
I forget that I chose you, that I wanted you, that you are as perfect as a human can be.

Because all I see is the way I fail you.
All I feel is your pain, and my inability to heal you.
All I hear is your anguish.

Sometimes I look at you, and I am so deep in my own darkness
that I cannot see your light.

Dear baby,

I’m doing my best,

please be gentle with me.

Love, Mumma.

Postpartum blue is estimated to affect 80% of women. Postpartum depression is estimated to affect 10% of women.

I don’t like talking about it. I don’t like thinking about it. This is my truth right now.


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I am made of magic, madness, and moonlight

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