If you are looking for shiny happy posts, move along.

It happened.

I had been feeling a little like I was teetering on the edge of some postpartum depression for a few weeks. I'd start to lose my balance, and then regain my footing for a while. Every time I thought I'd found solid ground, things would get shaky. But I was hanging on.

Then, my feet slipped out from under me and I went tumbling head over heels and landed firmly on my ass.

Last night, I found myself up at 2:08 am, nursing G. And while he went right back to sleep, I was up and saw every hour thereafter.

I called in late to work to call my doctor and get some rest but I never did go back to sleep. I assume it's from my antidepressant that I just started, because I took it before bed last night. But that little pill didn't do me much good as I sobbed in B's arms for hours last night. That's when I knew I had hit rock bottom. Sigh.

I hoped against hope that things would be better this time, that I could fight the good fight, that because I wasn't taking progesterone, I wouldn't feel down.

I think the sleep deprivation-induced lack of seratonin is certainly a big part of it. I am that girl that needs nine solid hours of sleep a night and I haven't slept well in five months and two weeks. But who's counting?

Now the familiar feelings have come back...feeling all my self-confidence slip away, feeling the paranoia creep in, feeling embarrassed when I make stupid mistakes at work, feeling a lack of interest in my favorite activities, feeling like I am walking through mud during the day, feeling like I am just going through the motions.

I know. I'm just a bundle of positivity. Sorry. I almost didn't post about this but it's so therapeutic to get it out there. Also, I got a sweet e-mail from a friend the last time I posted about this telling me that it helped her to know that she wasn't alone. So here I am.

If you are the praying type and want to throw one my way, I won't turn you down.

Namaste.

The not-so-adorable version of a cute children's story

After I had L, I had some wicked postpartum depression. It was actually completely anxiety-based; I perseverated on something bad happening to my precious baby, to our bond, to my little family...anything. I was a hot mess, to put it mildly.

I worried during my pregnancy with G that I'd feel the same way, and at my 6 week postpartum checkup, my doc had the obligatory birth control conversation with me. After L, I took progesterone-only birth control pills, and he asked how I tolerated it.

I realized that the whole hot mess thing after L was likely because of those evil little pills. I had to take progesterone for my first trimester with G because of a small bleed I had, and I cried more than I laughed in those 12 weeks.

When I explained that to my doctor, we both agreed that it'd be better to skip the progesterone. I sighed happily, relieved that I wouldn't worry about PPD this time around.

Shoulda knocked on some wood.

Lately, I've been, well, a bit hot-mess-esque. After conversations with my doctor and G's doctor today, I've likened it to "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie," but without the cute factor.

If your baby is a terrible sleeper and you are exclusively breastfeeding, you won't get much sleep.

If you don't get much sleep (and you need 8-9 hours of sleep per night and have a weak immune system), you'll get sick.

If you get sick and you're not getting much sleep, you'll stay sick for a long time.

If you stay sick for a long time, your baby will get sick.

If your baby gets sick, he'll sleep even worse.

If he sleeps even worse, you'll sleep even worse.

If you sleep even worse, you'll stay sick.

If you stay sick and tired, you'll really want to attempt sleep training. But you can't attempt sleep training when you are both really sick.

If you are both really sick and both really tired, it will start to affect your job. You'll oversleep, move slower in the mornings, and be late for work. Once you get to work, you might make stupid mistakes on paperwork. Lots and lots of them.

If you are late for work and make lots of stupid mistakes on paperwork, you'll start to feel bad about yourself.

If you feel bad about yourself, you start to lose interest in your favorite activities.

If you start to lose interest in your favorite activities, feel like your feet are dragging through mud, can't stop sneezing and hacking, and burst into tears more often then you'd like to admit, you might realize that progesterone isn't the only cause for depression.

My wise doctor knows me well. At that six-week appointment when I mentioned that I felt depressed after L's birth but was sure I would be fine this time, he wrote me a prescription for an antidepressant "just in case." I guess deep down, I knew I wasn't out of the woods, as I've been holding onto it since then.

Perhaps I'll take it to the pharmacy tomorrow.

Wish me luck. And a sleepy baby.

***I was thisclose to turning off comments for this post. I really don't want advice on sleep training. The only reason I didn't turn off comments was because I've gotten some amazing support from my blog friends in the past. You don't have to comment, but if you do, don't be condescending or rude, mkay? Thanks. And again...no sleep training advice. Namaste.