There is a battle between the kind of mom I imagined myself to be and the one I actually am. Before I had a child, I had an image in my mind of the mom I wanted to be.
I wanted to be a fun mom. I wanted to be the cookie-baking, art-making mom who was always in a good mood. When my son was born, I had to admit to myself that my brain chemistry was not going to change overnight.
And that, in fact, I had a higher predisposition toward postpartum depression than most of my peers, given that I’d already been diagnosed with clinical depression years earlier.
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