Diagnosed

Ronnie was the good husband yesterday. He called my OB office to make me an appointment since I couldn't do it while I was at work. He called me during my planning to tell me that when he told the receptionist that he thought I have PPD she put him through to talk to a nurse. She really wanted to talk to me, but said that she would talk to the doctor and see what he had to say. We hung up while we waited on her to call him back. A little while later he called to say that the doctor's schedule was booked, but that he wanted to see me today and could work me in at 4.15. Since school doesn't get out until 4 these days I arranged a sub and left at 12.15.

I went home to chill for a bit, but I was just nervous. I didn't want to go to the doctor. I didn't want to admit that there was something wrong. I didn't want to say that I couldn't handle my life.

I was so worried that Ronnie wouldn't make it home in time to go with me. But he finally called and told me he was on the way home and that he could go with me.

On the way to the office I tried to analyze the situation in a way to let Ronnie know that there was nothing wrong, but being the supporter he is, I got no sympathy. He told me that this had gone on long enough and that we were gonna get help.

If he hadn't been at the office with me I would have left three times. At least. If I had been there alone I believe I would have gotten up and just walked out. I didn't want to let anyone know that I needed help.

The doctor came in and asked some questions. Some were difficult to answer. Admitting your innermost thoughts is hard to do. But I'm so thankful that Ronnie was there. He validated my answers and answered the ones I couldn't. His presence kept me from breaking down in tears right there on the table. It was hard for me to sit there, but I can only imagine how it made him feel to see the one person he loves more than anything sitting there, hands tucked underneath her to hide the shaking, rocking back and forth and swinging her legs with her head hung. I must have been a sad sight.

But we talked with the doctor and decided on a medication. And I have to go back in two weeks for a check up. Things are going to get better. I'm going to be me again. And we will get through it together. We will get through postpartum depression.

On the way home the song "God Gave Me You" by Blake Shelton played on the radio. The lyrics seemed to fit us at the moment:

I've been a walking heartache

I've made a mess of me

The person that I've been lately

Ain't who I want to be

But you stay here right beside me

And watch as the storm blows through

And I need you

Cause God gave me you for the ups and downs

God gave me your for the days of doubt

And for when I think I lost my way

There are no words here left to say, it's true

God gave me you