We don’t want to find out the gender.

Tech: Okay, but you know that there are two.

Two…two what?

Tech: Two heads.

Gurrl, that’s kind of a mean joke.

Tech: I wouldn’t joke… I’ll show you.

And there on the ultrasound monitor the technician pointed to two distinct blobs, but I still couldn’t distinguish what she was pointing to. I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Did I go deaf? Why are my ears ringing?
I looked at my husband to talk for me. He was making a weird breathing sound. He kept blowing out air in disbelief. Hot tears streaked my face.

“We can’t afford SIX kids…”.

I wanted one more so badly. I wanted a girl so badly.

“Say something.”

Another puff of air.

“It’ll be 5 kids,” he said slowly.

We already have three boys. The thought of two more boys made my chest tight.

“Okay, well I’m going to find out because at least if it IS boys I can get the crying all out now, so leave the room.” He stayed.

The tech showed us two girl babies! I had been carrying two baby girls for 22 weeks without a clue.

I thought having one more baby would be a breeze. I considered myself a PRO. I raised two boys under two while finishing my bachelors and then succinctly my masters. I was ready. I was prepared. But, I wasn’t.

I battled postpartum depression with my two previous children. I could feel it creeping in my last trimester with my twins. When they were born it hit so hard; primarily from exhaustion. I couldn’t relate to anyone. This life I wanted so badly, I couldn’t pause to enjoy it. I was a slave to the babes. The world around me and all the people I knew kept living, without me, or so I felt.
Everyday for the first two months I would tell myself to take it one hour at a time.
“Just get through the next hour,” I told myself.
Every time I prepared bottles I glanced at the clock and squeezed my brain for enough juice to quickly calculate how many hours were left until my husband would come home. A bit of hope, another adult, a moment to take a shower and cry under falling water.
I don’t know how to do this. I’m tired. I want to quit. No, I want to sleep. I can’t sleep. I need to go outside and hang out with my older children and get some sunshine. I need to eat. Did I eat today? Did I brush my teeth? I wore this yesterday. Something smells weird. It’s probably my hair. Oh no, the sun’s going down. It’s almost time for bed. It’s almost time to do it all over again. ALL BY MYSELF.


If you or someone you know is battling post partum depression please talk to your Doctor. We have compiled a list of online resources that might be helpful.

0 Comment

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published.