Postnatal Depression

 Postnatal depression is real
And this is how I feel
Sad, lonely, depressed, withdrawn,
No enjoyment and emotionally worn
I have no bond with my baby, none at all,
My emotions bounce about like a ping-pong ball.
My maternal instincts are very fleeting
A now-you-see-it, now-you-don’t type of thing.
But surprisingly the pregnancy gave me joy
More so when the sonographer said “It’s a boy!”

My partner and I painted the spare room baby-blue
The clothes we bought were also of the same hue
Cuddly toys and cherubs littered the window sill
My baby’s room wasn’t going to be run-of-the-mill,
It certainly reflected the joy
The joy that I was expecting a baby boy.
The buntings bore his name in capital letters
He was to be christened Tyler James Peters,
The name my partner and I agreed upon
On tenterhooks we waited till the day he was born.

Postnatal depression is real
And this is how I feel
One minute I am cradling baby Tyler in my arms
Next minute I want to smother him with my palms.
At night I get out of bed kissing my teeth and sighing,
Cursing this innocent baby for waking me up with his crying.
One night I felt like throwing Tyler out of the window,
What stopped me? To this day I honestly do not know.
Later I cried disconsolately for thinking such a thing
I even wanted to do myself in.

Postnatal depression is real
And this is how I feel
I can’t relish the joy that motherhood brings
Due to my ever-changing mood swings.
I can’t even care for myself anymore,
No Lipstick or curled hair like I used to do before.
I resemble something the cat dragged in,
My partner is too tired from work to notice anything.
In my head I feel like my baby is a mere stranger
Deep in my heart I know his life is in grave danger

Postnatal depression is real
And this is how I feel,
My emotions are running wild
And I don’t trust myself with my child.
The doctor has confirmed its postnatal depression
Severe mental and emotional oppression.
I am hanging on to my sanity by my finger nails
My relationship with my partner has gone off the rails.
Now I’m seriously thinking about the option,
The option to give my innocent baby up for adoption.
Postnatal depression is real
And this is how I feel.