post ppd

i sat on my son's bed tonight and wept.
uncontrollably.
holding his infant clothes up to my face.
trying to connect to what i was never able to connect with.
my infant.
my newborn.
my love.
he is two now. and with me. safe and happy.
i know i mustn't cry. i know i mustn't be sad. we are happy now.

but there is a void within me-- an emptiness--
that howls- as my breath rises in my body.
a haunting-
of days that passed with anxiety, depression, isolation
and no connection to my thriving, loving, little boy.
i will always miss you.

untitled

i used to say, in the still night air, that it was difficult because everything was so different.

i could not find my compass because my entire world had been turned upside down-- my compass was out of loop. the magnetic directions had been tied-up and twisted. the magnetic forces no longer worked-- to make the connection.

i just don't feel like myself anymore because i cannot recognize my life, that must be normal. i mean, when your life has changed so much in such a short amount of time-- one must need time to re-root, right?

yeah, sure. he'd say. reassuringly. softly. and yet, the ground from under me was rocking, cracking, and edging away at the seams of my existence.

nothing could reassure me. i had to find my way back to me. but how, nothing was the same anymore. my body looked so different, it felt so different. i was supposed to celebrate this blossoming belly, this life inside of me-- this child of mine and the mother i was to become. celebrities say that it is the sexiest they have ever felt, then why do i feel nervous, swollen, and big? do they not experience the same things other women do? what about the nausea, vomiting, heartburn, stretch marks, lack of sleep, constant need to pee?

nothing was the same, even my breathing had changed. my breath, the rhythm, the sound. in yoga, they say, find yourself through your breath. the simplest direction back to myself, had been altered. it was a different course altogether. and i knew it. finding my breath reminded me of the loss of self.

i was hopeful that once the baby was born, i'd realize myself again. except, by then, i had forgotten exactly who it was i was searching for. i had died such a sudden death that it had gone unnoticed. i had died my death so long ago, that the memories of me had faded into obscurity.

i stopped searching. i numbed. i fell. i swam deep into the fog. crawled right into the shoebox of broken compasses.