Home > Family, Motherhood, Personal, Thoughts > Heaven Can Wait

Heaven Can Wait

A lot on my mind and heart so let’s get to it.On Tuesday, I contemplated suicide. I mean, really struggled with it. I left my crying baby at home with his dad (who was on a conference call) and just walked out of the apartment. I walked around the block thinking, No one really needs me. I don’t matter. I thought several times about jumping into oncoming traffic on the main road but then I thought, Gee, I can’t do that to the person who will forever live with the guilt of thinking they killed me.

So I went home.

I sat on the couch alone (by this point both father and son were sleeping) and decided that I needed to end it. My 4-month-old son had been crying on and off all day and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I felt as though Tuesday was a test of my mothering skills and that I failed miserably. So I crept into the bedroom, snatched a belt, and wrapped it around my neck. I searched high and low for a place to hang myself. I had the belt tight enough. But then I looked up the steps to the loft and decided I couldn’t allow my husband to find me like that. That 11 years of memories wouldn’t matter—his main thoughts of me would always be my body dangling from a ceiling.

So I went to the stairway outside of our apartment and futzed around on my phone thinking that I’d grown soft. Fifteen years ago, I had the nerve to overdose on pills, jump out of moving cars, and attempt to crash a speeding car into a divider. I didn’t care about how other people would think or react. I just wanted to end my life.

Now, I’m cowardly. I think about other people, care too much what they think of me. How they’ll think of me after I’m gone. So I’m still here. Struggling but alive.

I feel as though I can’t be the mother that my son needs me to be. My husband even used the word “frazzled” to describe me when he saw me after the baby cried in the car for a half-hour. I called the doctor’s office. The nurse said, “I don’t know what to do for you.” I fed him and then he just started crying. And crying. And crying. He would not stop. I was near tears myself. I’m his mother; I’m supposed to comfort him and soothe him. But no, what am I thinking? I can’t stay in this unfamiliar place in a running car with unlocked doors to calm you down, kid. We’ve gotta go. So I strap him into the car seat and through his tears, he just gives me this look that says, Save me, mommy. I’m in pain. And I think to myself, I wish I could, kid. I wish I knew exactly what’s wrong and how to fix it. I could swear that he probably had a tummy ache after downing 4 ounces of formula in 10 minutes, but I can’t cure it. I don’t have gas drops with me so my best bet is to let him “cry it out.”

Now, I won’t judge other moms who can let their kids “cry it out,” but I can tell you that after 30 minutes of hearing my child scream, it’s not for me. My son wailed for 10 minutes before I strapped him into the car seat and for another 15 minutes before I reached a halfway spot close to home (the area where my husband works). I just knew that if I were a good mother, he wouldn’t have been crying for so long. I would have been able to calm him down. Lo, and behold, my husband steps into the car, pulls our son out of the car seat, gets another burp out of him, and he begins to calm down. My husband decides to work from home for the rest of the day so I drive the rest of the way home and our son is still whimpering but mostly falling asleep now. And it’s then that I realize that my mothering skills leave something to be desired. The morning had gone so well and then I just lost my shit for the afternoon.

My mother’s eyesight is getting worse. She can see enough to drive… for now. But she’s apprehensive about traveling on highways and roads that she is not familiar with. All right, sure, she’s 70, but her constant phrase of “You know I don’t see that well” worries me. I just know that in the next 5 years, I will need to take care of her. Drive her around. Maybe even help her move from New York to Pennsylvania. But for now, she is still living in New York, working, and taking care of her 103-year-old mother. Is it normal to worry about your parents so much when 70 really seems so young to me?

  1. June 13, 2014 at 2:36 PM


    So many of us have gone through this exact same thing. My first child cried constantly. I too couldn’t handle the “crying it out” thing as she would go on for hours. All day. All night. I was fried. No sleep. No comfort for her. Nothing. Then one day, she slept through the night. It was like a little miracle and slowly (VERY slowly) things got better. I too battled with bipolar with some OCD sprinkled on there for kicks. It gets better and easier. Please realize that you are the perfect mama for that baby. God chose you especially for him. Continue to reach out to people. Continue to ask for help. Continue to make sure that you are heard. Most importantly, your husband and your support people need to know you are feeling this way. They can help. I know when I felt that way, i felt like i would be a burden to my husband or friends or family if I told them. I prayed that it would just go away. When I finally uttered the words out loud, one super late night to my husband, a weight lifted. He helped me get the help I needed and we are stronger now for it. All I ask is that you ask for the help that you deserve. We have been there. We care about you. We want to hear about things getting better for you. Don’t give up. The good times are coming.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:26 PM

      Thank you so much for your support. I really don’t want to go to the hospital. I’d really prefer to have outpatient help, if possible. I’m really afraid to tell my therapist about this latest episode.

  2. June 13, 2014 at 2:37 PM

    Yes. Heaven CAN wait. It MUST. Because you are needed and loved here and have more life to live and more you to be. I promise. You aren’t by yourself. You can do this, even if it just means you’re surviving right now, I swear. When Alex was 10mos old, I was suicidal. I felt so much of what you are, and had the similar thoughts. It was hell. I couldn’t bear it. So I know what it’s like to be in this place….to doubt your ability and worth as a woman and mother. I know how agonizing and terrible it is to see and hear your baby just scream and cry and not know how to make it better or stop. I know what it is to feel helpless in those moments. I do. Even now, at 7mos postpartum with Austin, his crying triggers my anxiety and causes me to lose it sometimes. Sometimes I have to just walk away. I hate it. But I’m living proof that this doesn’t have to be the end of you. Have you talked to your psych about where you’re at and your current treatment plan to see what needs to be adjusted? If you haven’t, please do. I know it’s a PITA and exhausting to keep fighting, but you can do this.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:29 PM

      I really don’t want to call my psych. Perhaps I don’t want to admit that I’m drowning.

  3. June 13, 2014 at 2:39 PM

    Kass, sending you so much love. I still cannot bear to hear my girls cry at all. It hurts my mama heart. You are a wonderful mama. Babies just cry sometimes, and we cannot do anything about it. Reach out to your husband, your doctor, and the mamas here. We are here for you, and we will not let you wander through this alone. Keep talking, keep writing and reach out for help. That first step is the hardest, but it gets better. Like Rebecca said, uttering the words out loud lifts some of the burden from you.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:30 PM

      Thank you so much for your kind words and support. I guess all I can do is grasp tightly onto the hope that people like you have given me.

  4. Rachel
    June 13, 2014 at 2:43 PM

    Heaven can most definitely wait. YOU are worth so much to your family, they need you and love you, and you are the greatest gift to your son and husband. Stopping my own little world right now to pray for you. Peace, strength, and light.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:32 PM

      Thank you for your prayers and support.

  5. Jessica CD
    June 13, 2014 at 2:50 PM

    You are a good mother. How do I know? You want to help your baby. You are best for your baby.
    My third baby, first son, cried for 15 months, even in his sleep. My husband could calm him some. It was excruciating. It was so horrible. In hindsight I definitely had PPD.
    He is now thirteen and easy as pie, great young man, a deep thinker. He doesn’t always like me, but he loves me and I feel the same about him:)
    But none of any of this matters. Only this matters–you’re not alone. I stay here with you. Please stay here with us.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:33 PM

      Thank you for your support. I’m at a point where I’m just kind of here.

  6. June 13, 2014 at 2:54 PM

    It irritated me to no end when the baby refused to be soothed by me and would calm right down for daddy. I always took it personally. And looking frazzled, happens to everyone. Totally natural.

    My mom just 58. She has a lot of health problems and attempted suicide a couple times when I was growing up. I worry about her everyday.

    I’m glad you care about what other people think. Cling to it if that’s what it takes to live to fight another day.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:40 PM

      Thank you for your support. It’s been hard to get through the days recently but the outpouring of love from warrior moms has been… amazing.

  7. TJ
    June 13, 2014 at 2:54 PM

    Thank you for sharing this, Kass. I hear your pain, and it takes me back to my first days of motherhood. My daughter cried all the time, and wouldn’t sleep. My sister (a mother of 3) came over and said, “Is she always like this?” I was horrified thinking, “What, this isn’t normal???” But it was our normal 🙂 I never figured out anything in particular that was making her cry, but she hit a milestone and then it got significantly better, and then improved slowly from there. I remember my midwife asking me at my 6wk visit how often I was crying. I said, “Only every time she does.” Ha! Which at that point, was a good chunk of the day. I started hearing her crying when she wasn’t actually crying, just because I had so much anxiety and fear that she was going to start and I wouldn’t be able to help her, which happened a lot.
    All that to say… it gets better. Really. And you aren’t a burden, and you aren’t a bad mother. You’re a gift to that baby and to the people in your life that love you. Everyone needs help, and even the people who seem they are doing it all on their own really aren’t.
    You’re so brave for putting this out there! You can do this, mama. Sending you love!

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:43 PM

      Thank you for the love and for sharing your personal slice of life. I needed to hear from other moms who have been where I am that these dark times don’t always last.

  8. June 13, 2014 at 3:06 PM

    I’m praying for you! I survived post partum depression and I remember those dark days so well, I locked myself in the bathroom with knife intent on slitting my wrists because I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It’s all lies that you’re not enough, you can’t do it, you’re a failure, no one care. All of it…lies. I’m praying for Jesus to meet you and his light beat back the darkness. I’m praying for your husband to have words and actions that communicate your worthiness and importance. You are so brave to share this with us. Let us hold close and make space for you now. We need you, your brave voice, and your honesty!

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:44 PM

      *blushes* Thank you so much!

  9. June 13, 2014 at 3:07 PM

    I don’t think it’s cowardly to choose not to kill yourself. It’s strong and the sign of a good mother. A child’s crying, especially if you aren’t getting much uninterrupted sleep, can really wear anyone’s problemsolving skills down to the nub. Your husband got lucky with the burp (it may have taken that long for baby’s body to be ready to burp), it’s not a sign of your poor mothering skills. Not even gas drops work all the time. Babies’ nervous systems are still sorting themselves out…so once the “switch is flipped”, sometimes they can’t calm for awhile (it will seem like a long while) no matter what anyone does.

    It’s especially hard when you are worrying about your mom also. Many cities and counties have “paratransit” services that serve seniors and handicapped door to door. There are private services as well. That isn’t to say you won’t need to take care of her at some point, but transportation doesn’t need to be a worry.

    When my baby was little, I had many of the same feelings you had. I would think anyone could do a better job than me. I would perserverate on things in the future that I couldn’t possibly control – like whether she would be able to transition to preschool – now I realize that was part of the exhaustion.

    It gets better. Might be time to change docs, though – a nurse who says I don’t know what to do for you…hm…not good. An appropriate response would be to offer to connect you with resources. Many doctors and staff underestimate the enormous amount of stress young moms experience, esp. if you’ve been troubled by depression before. Call a hotline, talk to your husband, ask a friend to come in for a couple of hours so you can get away and have a break – all possibilities.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:48 PM

      Thank you for the letting me know about the services that support seniors. She lives in New York and they have a fantastic transit system. I’m sure I can get a service to get her to where she needs to be.

      I really like the pediatrician that my son has but the pediatric nurse, I think, was at wit’s end with me. I felt bad. I was freaking out that day.

  10. June 13, 2014 at 3:11 PM

    MOMMA! You are awesome and loved and worthy etc. Holding space for you tightly and fondly and warmly. Be so gentle on yourself.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:48 PM

      Thank you so much for your support.

  11. June 13, 2014 at 3:15 PM

    Girl. I’ve been exactly where you are. EXACTLY.
    I remember before having a baby I could never comprehend how anyone could hurt or shake a baby. THEN I HAD ONE. Dear heavens. THE CRYING. I can remember putting her in a swing, walking away and shoving my head under a pillow and crying until I fell asleep. At some point she fell asleep and I lived. She lived. But holy mother, that night still haunts me.

    I wish I could say it magically got better with both babies, but it just changes, and having the courage to admit how effing hard it can be to good people (even strangers) can have a profound and calming effect on your heart and mind.

    I hope you felt that after writing this. Even if just for a second. Thousands of us have your back, especially me.

    • story3girl
      June 14, 2014 at 7:44 AM

      You are so strong. You are doing so much, and it’s hard. It’s not just hard for you. It’s HARD. And having thoughts of walking in traffic, that’s a symptom of a disease. I know it feels like it’s just who you are, but it’s not. It’s the depression. Who you are is a mom and a daughter who is strong and loving enough to keep trying and fighting, to keep caring for others, even when it’s hard. Who you are is amazing.

      • Kass
        June 14, 2014 at 3:51 PM

        Thank you for the kind comments. I suppose I will contact my psych on Monday for additional help.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:50 PM

      Wow. Thank you for sharing your personal slice of life with me. I needed to get what happened on Tuesday out of my system. Thank you for having my back and supporting a complete and total stranger.

  12. June 13, 2014 at 3:31 PM

    You are not in this alone. Sending you tons of <3s. Hang in there. Every day you still have your body on is good. Just keep doing that.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:54 PM

      Thank you so much for your support.

  13. June 13, 2014 at 3:33 PM

    I want to tell you that my youngest son cried all the time. I thought he hated me. I think I occasionally hated him. I barely survived, but I did anything I can do to support you I will do. I’m linking you to a little piece of my story. My email is there. Contact the me anytime. http://www.nopointsforstyle.com/2011/01/love-with-teeth.html

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:55 PM

      Thank you so much for sharing your story with me. Yeah, I think my son hates me sometimes. My therapist tells me he’s a baby and doesn’t have that capability, but I often feel otherwise.

  14. Kir Piccini
    June 13, 2014 at 3:38 PM

    Kass, you don’t know me and what I have to say to you might be falling on deaf ears but after reading this all I want to say to you is PLEASE DON’T GO. Please don’t think you’re not important or that people can see you.
    I CAN SEE YOU. Right here in this moment. I know how sadness feels, how much “just going to sleep” could feel like a freedom you’ve never known but please don’t do it.

    there are so many people, people you don’t even know ..like me, that think you are important and valuable. You’re a wife, a daughter, a mom, a writer. All those things MATTER. They do.

    sending you as much love, support, comfort and peace in your heart that I can. From the comments I can see that you are well loved, I just wanted you to know that I when you believe you’re invisible, you’re not.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:57 PM

      Thank you for your comment and kind words. They’re not falling on deaf ears, but the kind words are sort of muted. Maybe I can get the wax out of my ears to hear better…

  15. June 13, 2014 at 3:43 PM

    You are not alone. The crying is so hard. You’re this baby’s mom, and you’re the perfect person for the job. I know it doesn’t always feel that way. Please don’t leave us. Heaven can wait, you have living and mothering to do. It’s not your fault, the crying. Sometimes you might have to walk away if it’s so hard to hear but know, it’s not your fault and you can ask for others to listen to it for you, to make sure the baby is just a crying baby, some are, while you care for yourself. Have you told your doctor about these thoughts? I had them with my second child and got help from a very good post partum psychiatrist. My fight/flight responses were so heightened and with meds, I was able to handle things. Please, reach out. Don’t suffer alone.

  16. June 13, 2014 at 3:53 PM

    I’m so sorry you’re hurting. You are not alone. I’ve been trying to post, I hope this one goes through. Please, heaven can wait. It’s so hard to listen to your child cry and to feel helpless to soothe. It’s not your fault. Some babies cry, have colic, who knows. You are the best, most right, most perfect mom for your baby. Can you talk to someone about these thoughts though? I had them and saw a PPD psychiatrist and got so much help. I felt really alone and scared before and he helped and meds helped as did sleep, switching to formula, enlisting support. Saved my life. We are here for you. Your baby and family need you. Stay with us. We are all here.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 3:59 PM

      Thank you so much, Jenny. I received both of your responses. I have a postpartum therapist that I see and I really hesitate telling her about this.

      • June 14, 2014 at 4:26 PM

        Why do you hesitate to tell her? These thoughts you’re having, they are not your fault but they are scary. You’re having them because you just had a baby and your body/brain chemistry is way off kilter. That’s a major medical issue. Please tell a doctor. You’re in Philly? Do you have an MD you trust? Your OB or internist? I’m from Philly but in Austin now. I know there are other Warrior Moms closer. I had suicidal thoughts after my second son and I saw a psychiatrist about it. I was already on anti-depressant but he added something else and it helped in just a few days! Please do tell a doctor. Love. Love. Love your way.

  17. June 13, 2014 at 3:56 PM

    Heaven CAN wait! This is a hard, hard time, but there are good times ahead. Please get the help and support you need. I know that feels overwhelming to even consider right now, but you are worth it.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:00 PM

      I will hold on to what you say and hope that it’s true. Thank you.

  18. June 13, 2014 at 4:30 PM

    You’re not alone, love. Take one moment as a time. One breath at a time. Slow. Gentle. We are here with you. We will carry you when you can’t do this. Because none of us can do any of this alone. We’re all so broken. Let us walk with you.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:01 PM

      Thank you for being here with me. Thank you for your support. Thank you for caring about the value of life so much that you’re making a difference in the life of a total stranger.

  19. June 13, 2014 at 4:58 PM

    My baby cried SO DAMN MUCH. Those that don’t have that kind of infant just don’t get it, do they? It’s crushing. My baby turns two in just a few days, and I still feel heavy and dark when I am reminded of those months and months of crying. People said it would get better around 12 weeks, and it did. But not really enough to notice. But by 6 months? It was noticeably better. And by 9 months? We were having FUN. Like, the most fun I’d ever had. And it’s been fun ever since. (Not without challenges, but nothing as bad as those early days of crying, crying, crying.) Your experience might not be exactly like this, of course, but I can promise that this four-month-old baby will not cry this much forever. And there are moments just around the corner that are so shiny and beautiful and breathtaking, and you DO NOT want to miss those. It’s worth it to hang it there. Not just for those who love you and for your baby, but for YOU. One breath at a time. That’s all you have to do.

    This poem is a little something I love (and it really helped me to read when my babe was so tiny and so fussy and I was so at the end of my rope most days.):

    Prayer for a Mother Becoming by Karen Maezen Miller

    May you be tired and afraid
    overwhelmed and ready to quit.
    Start over, over
    ten thousand times over
    roll out, get up, fall down
    break into tears
    open in laughter
    sing and dance
    be silly, be glad.
    May you forget most things,
    remember everything,
    come to know in your bones
    with your blood
    through your eyes
    from your lips
    out of earth
    deep below, well beyond
    you are love.
    You are just love.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:03 PM

      Thank you for sharing your story and that poem with me. I look at a mom whose infant just turned 1 and she is having so much fun and I want to have that kind of fun with my son. I hope it really gets better as you say.

  20. Marie
    June 13, 2014 at 5:14 PM

    So many, including myself, have been here. Just remember, it does get better & you are incredibly important.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:04 PM

      Thank you so much for your support.

  21. Laurie
    June 13, 2014 at 5:17 PM

    You are a good mother. Babies cry uncontrollably for hours sometimes. You let yours cry while you took him to a safe place. You are a good mother. When it got to be too much you left him in the care of his father and you took a walk. You are a good mother. You came back and are trying to figure out what to do. You are a good mother. Being a good mother has nothing do with knowing all the answers all the time. It has to do with meeting them where they are at at any given moment and doing your best and trusting…even if it means trusting for hours while they cry uncontrollably until your spouse, friend, neighbor comes to relieve you while you rest and pull it together. Continue to develop friendships with those who know, love, and understand your situation. That’s how you’ll get through this bad spell and move onto a good spell. I write this for you and me, as I struggle with my 12 year old. I have a 12 year old who cried a lot as a baby then matured and now only cries like all other kids. He’s going through a tough time. I blame myself. And then I remind myself I am there for him. I will always be there for him. I will do my best to help him. And together with my husband and other son we’ll get through this rough patch, even as he pushes me away. Like you, I am a good mother.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:06 PM

      Thank you for the encouragement. It sounds like you are going through a tough place too, but in a different way. I do hope things improve in your situation as I hope they improve in mine.

  22. beckycastlemiller
    June 13, 2014 at 5:40 PM

    You are an incredible mother. You are just the right mother for your baby. I believe in you.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:06 PM

      *blushes* Thank you for your belief in me and support.

  23. June 13, 2014 at 5:55 PM

    A crying baby in no way reflects whether you’re a good mom or not. Some babies are more upset than others, and even the calmest babies lose it sometimes and you can’t figure out why or what to do. You’re doing everything right: loving on that baby, walking away when you need to and you know your baby is safe. Your son won’t have any memory of this, but he will know he is loved. He needs you so much! Keep fighting! That’s what he needs most from you. Every mom on this planet can relate to those days when you feel frazzled and overwhelmed and not enough, and we are standing with you. You are not alone. You are seen and loved.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:11 PM

      I’m a bit of a perfectionist. When I cried as a baby, it was because something was wrong (according to my mother whose philosophy I have kind of adopted). My mother has never said that I’m a bad mother if the baby cries but I just can’t help but feel as though if I met all his needs, he wouldn’t cry. I know it’s unrealistic, but I still try.

  24. June 13, 2014 at 6:39 PM

    I just want you to know you’re not alone. I have lived through depression, anxiety and postpartum depression. I’m a cutter. And a survivor. I have three kids. They all had horrid reflux, they cried endlessly, I rarely slept and I felt like a terrible mom. Frazzled doesn’t begin to describe the state I’ve been in.

    Please stop blaming yourself and your mothering. DEPRESSION LIES. IT IS UGLY AND IT IS A MONSTER AND IT LIES.

    You are a good mother because you care. You love. You are honest. You are sharing your truth and by doing so, you are letting others know they are not alone.

    hugging you through my computer screen.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:13 PM

      Thank you so much for your comment. Depression does lie, but I think my brain is very screwed up and backwards right now. I still feel like I need *out*.

  25. June 13, 2014 at 6:50 PM

    Never give up. Depression tells us terrible lies and it’s so easy to believe it when we’re exhausted or hormonal or going through hell. Do not believe the lies. You are important and so vital to your child…not just today but forever. My daughter saved my life. Let your son save yours.

    Please get help. This isn’t something you can do on your own. Therapy can make such a difference. Me without anti-depressants and behavioral therapy isn’t the real me. Stay strong for the real you.

    Depression lies. I promise you that.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:14 PM

      Thank you so kindly for your comment. I’m on meds, have a psych, and 2 therapists, but I feel like I’m beyond help.

  26. June 13, 2014 at 8:02 PM

    Kass, you don’t know me, but I know what you’re talking about. The feelings of inadequacy, the feelings of failure and not knowing what you’re doing – I know it. I lived it, and to some extent, I still do. But know this – you can survive it. Your son needs you. HE NEEDS YOU.

    Please hold on. Get help. Reach out. You are not alone. Know that you are not alone. Go to http://postpartumprogress.com, and you can find many resources, other women who are going through exactly the same thing. Please, hold on in there.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:16 PM

      Thanks for directing me to postpartumprogress. I am involved in a local Climb Out of the Darkness to try and symbolically overcome this nonsense. But I guess it’s kind of good that I wasn’t involved in the video because really… I’m not back. I don’t see when I will be.

  27. June 13, 2014 at 8:43 PM

    Dear Kass –
    You sat down and you wrote. That is so huge. Honestly. You are a writer. You are a warrior. You are not alone. I am a single mom and for 6 months I was a caregiver to my grandmother and a mother to a newborn. It was HARD. physically hard, but mostly emotional. I talked about the emotions with my ob during a visit soon after my son’s birth and she was able to put me on medication. That was a huge help. Suddenly I felt like I wasn’t so overwhelmed. I was still sad some days, but the sorrow didn’t pull me down.
    I am so glad you are on the planet. I’m so genuinely in awe of women who can open up and share their heart as you have done. Oh your heart is so beautiful!
    I live just outside of Philly and if you want to meet for tea or coffee I’d like that. There is a wonderful community of women (moms) online in the a Philly area and I’d be happy to make introductions.
    I’ll wave at you on twitter.
    You are surrounded by love.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:17 PM

      Thank you, Dresden. I look forward to connecting with you and other local moms.

  28. June 13, 2014 at 9:39 PM

    Oh, mama. Please stay and listen to those of us who have been in your shoes. My dark days were so scary and I thought it would be easier if I just gave up. But I am so glad I didn’t. If I would have given up when I was seriously contemplating suicide, my son wouldn’t have been born. I wouldn’t have experienced postpartum psychosis and recovered FULLY from it. I wouldn’t have had a daughter. I wouldn’t have met all the amazing warrior mamas I know today if I hadn’t FOUGHT MY WAY THROUGH IT. And now, I have reached a place in my life where I’m no longer fighting, but instead I’m appreciating what living with a mental illness has done for me. It’s shown me that I can make it through hell and come out stronger, smarter, and more compassionate than I ever was before. You can do it, too, Kass. Be brave. Keep writing. You’ll get through this. Reach out in person to people you trust who can help you find the help you need. Sending love and support.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:18 PM

      Thank you so much for your love and support. I am trying to hold on to the wise words of those who have been there before me.

  29. Angela
    June 13, 2014 at 9:52 PM

    I feel your struggle. My daughter has been a cryer since she was born. She’s almost 18 months now. I go through moments of anxiety just dreading the fact that I know she’s going to cry about SOMETHING at any moment. The feeling like you just need to put your child in a safe spot and walk away. The wanting to zone out completely just to get a moment’s peace. You are doing what you can. You have support all around you. It sucks, and I hate doing it too, but reach out. There is someone out there, somewhere, available to you at any time of day or night – whether you need to vent, or zone out, or just chat. You are strong and loved. Know that you have worth in this world, and you are needed more than you could ever imagine. Sending love.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:20 PM

      Thank you for your love and support. I obviously don’t know much about mothering if I feel terribly guilty for putting my son down in his crib and walking away leaving him wailing. (It _kills_ me.)

  30. June 13, 2014 at 10:00 PM

    Damnation, mama. All the hugs. And thank you for sticking around. For sharing. My 13-month old has been a crier from hour 1 – I used to pull into the parking lot after driving with her for five minutes and just sob. She sounded like a damn tornado siren. You are not alone. You are not a bad mom. You are amazing and strong and everything that baby needs – even when it feels all wrong. Promise.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:21 PM

      Thank you for your support. And yes, my son sounds like siren—that’s the perfect way to put it. He has a high-pitched wail that just pierces my soul.

  31. June 13, 2014 at 10:38 PM

    Sweet mama, hang in there. HANG ON. Get help, find a safe place to talk this out. Good for you for writing it out – that’s terrific!! Please, please keep talking. And do not do anything to end that precious life of yours. A colicky baby is enough to drive anyone round the bend – honest and true, it’s terrible. Terrible. But it will change. He will outgrow this. You will learn more about how to help him. Most importantly, though, learn how to help YOU. You are so valuable, so important, so dear. God bless you, dear woman. God bless you.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:22 PM

      Thank you for your support and the blessings. I’m hanging on. By a thread. But hanging.

  32. June 13, 2014 at 11:27 PM

    I know you. I am you. When it’s dark and scary and lonely, imagine all of these brave women holding your hand. It’s what saves me – every time – when nothing else can.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:23 PM

      Thank you for being there for me. I really appreciate it.

  33. June 14, 2014 at 12:25 AM

    Along with seeing a professional and asking about treatment and medication for PPD, Reaching out and being honest about your feelings is the single most important thing you can do right now. There is a community of thousands, THOUSANDS, who are here to listen and be available around the clock. Look for us on twitter, find us on FB, come to our blogs, email us, ask questions BUT NEVER THINK THAT YOU ARE ALONE. I have been n your place, and it’s frightening. Barely hanging on to sanity… it’s overwhelming. You have a community, don’t bear this alone. You will get better. I am proof that we do get better. So much love to you. xo

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:26 PM

      I just never know who or what to turn to when I feel like ending it all. I feel like a complete inconvenience.

  34. June 14, 2014 at 12:27 AM

    Also, please come and visit http://www.postpartumprogress.com on FB, join our FB groups, join our chats, join our twitter #PPD chats. There are so many of us. Listen to our voices and not the one that tells you you’re no good. That one’s not a friend.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:25 PM

      I try to participate in the Twitter #PPDChat on Monday nights but I don’t always make it. I am involved in a local Climb Out of the Darkness for Postpartum Progress too.

  35. June 14, 2014 at 12:57 AM

    You don’t know me, but I am hoping you will listen to my words, and those above from so many very amazing people. Being a mom is the HARDEST thing ever…but it also brings the most incredible joy you will ever feel. And when you are struggling, you need to seek help to break through the darkness. Because you cannot do this alone. And the beauty of it is that you are NOT alone. See the link Alexandra shared above and go there. Please, do it for your family and do it for you. There is so much amazing life ahead, and yes, heaven can wait.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:27 PM

      Thank you for your support. I slowly beginning to realize that even though I feel alone, I am part of a really awesome community.

  36. JW
    June 14, 2014 at 1:24 AM

    You are not alone. You are needed and you are loved. Please reach out to someone on the ground for help, for respite. You deserve it. Keep telling yourself that. You are not alone.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:28 PM

      Thank you for reminding me that I’m not alone. Thank you for being there, even with taking the time to comment.

  37. June 14, 2014 at 2:02 AM

    There is nothing wrong with you. Not as a person, a mother, or a wife. Feeling tired and “frazzled” is perfectly normal with a new baby. You’re human, not superwoman. Babies cry. Some babies cry all the time and can not be consoled. This is not a reflection on you as a mother, this is just a baby that cries.

    Always remember, you are not alone. And that baby needs you in his life. He will need his Mommy as he grows up, and he will love you, so unconditionally. The days of crying non-stop will fade into memories when he’s a toddler, a tween, a teen, that you hold in your arms and in your heart with so much love.

    Please, get help. We all need help sometimes, and it’s not a shameful thing. It’s a normal thing. To ask for help.

    Hang in there Mommy. You are loved by many and in the thoughts of so many.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:29 PM

      Thank you for your support and kind words. I really appreciate the time you took to comment on my blog and remind me that I’m not alone.

  38. nancy328
    June 14, 2014 at 5:49 AM

    Simply — Hang in there. As to the frazzled, if you take a real look around at moms, particularly moms of young children you will see most of them frazzled. So take that label as part of the job — some days will be better, some days will be frazzle days. Motherhood is one long-term on the job training.session, what works most the time will occasionally not work (but may again). I too have taken what I expected to be a one-way trip, but I came back — so did you. Find someone to talk to, sometimes a chance to vent helps — perhaps writing this blog entry was your way to vent. I hope that tomorrow is a better day for you.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:31 PM

      It’s particularly cloudy and overcast in my head. Has been for the past few days. The forecast shows a likely increase in my med dosages.

      • nancy328
        June 15, 2014 at 8:05 PM

        Eventually the fog will roll out. Look for those little glimmers of sunshine that try to peek into your life. It be as simple as a little grin from your baby. It may a hug from a friend. Look for those little nuggets and hopefully they will start becoming more obvious and more frequent, If you have a therapist that you like (and/or you think is good), be as honest as you can — the only way they can help you sort things out is if they know all of the things “in play” to sort,

        Good luck with your baby; good luck with your mom and most importantly – good luck with you!

  39. grandemocha
    June 14, 2014 at 8:04 AM

    Hugs!!! Please print this out and show it to the doctor. And the doctor they refer you to. If they don’t help, find another and another until you find one who can and will help.

    I know you won’t believe me but every mom finds motherhood the hardest job ever. Even the ones who lie and say it is easy.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:32 PM

      If I print this out and show it to my doc, I’ll probably be thrown into the hospital against my will and I don’t want that.

  40. June 14, 2014 at 8:33 AM

    You know that “it gets better” campaign that Dan Savage started for homes equal teens? It encourages them to stick with it because it does, indeed, get better. Well, they should do one for new moms. It will pictures moms of five year old who can communicate when their tummy’s hurt and who sleep through the night and aren’t in large part tiny succubus the way infants are.

    Sweet mama in all the pain, it does get better. And while the days are long the years are swift. It gets better faster then you can imagine in a million tiny slow ways. And as it gets better, if you let it, your child’s love can heal so many old hurts.

    It does get better, sweet mama. It really, really does.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:33 PM

      Thank you for your kind words and support. I am trying to hang onto your words.

  41. June 14, 2014 at 8:48 AM

    I remember – with my first infant – that when my husband left for the day, the click of the door shutting would make my stomach contract in dread. The knowledge that the baby would be crying most of the day, and not sleeping, well. Let’s just say that I shed as many tears as my son.

    That boy is now 16.5 years old, and a compassionate, clever teen who doesn’t ever cry. 🙂 So trite, but it does get so much better – even by the time he was six months old and could sit up, it had gotten better. Of that early time, I remember most trying to shower, my milk leaking, hair falling out, baby wailing. It was truly terrible.

    There are many of us rooting for you, remembering our own awful times, nodding in empathy and wincing in solidarity. Please hang in there and believe all of us – this awful time will pass.

    Sending love and strength.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:35 PM

      Thank you for your comment. Dread. That’s exactly how I feel when my husband leaves me alone with this baby. But he’s my son. I shouldn’t feel that way. And I do. And I feel horrible.

  42. Kari
    June 14, 2014 at 8:49 AM

    You are a caring, loving, sensitive person. That’s why you’re struggling so hard. Please don’t give up. Take one day at a time and ask for help. I know it’s hard, but ask for help. There are better days ahead. I promise.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:35 PM

      I am reluctant to get help because I don’t want to be hospitalized.

  43. June 14, 2014 at 8:50 AM

    You are a beautiful soul; I can see it and feel it through your writing. Many believe that our children choose us. I am one of them. So, know your sweet boy wants his Moma, and the two of you are a blessing to one another and have many adventures ahead …and things to learn together. Remember this in times of overwhelm. And please, please reach out to others when you need it. Big hug.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:36 PM

      Thank you. Thank you so much for the virtual hug and for just being there.

  44. June 14, 2014 at 10:22 AM

    You matter. Your life, dreams, experiences all matter. They do. And somewhere deep inside you know it. Don’t give up. Sending love and light to hold you today…

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:37 PM

      Thank you so much for your comment and the support.

  45. June 14, 2014 at 10:35 AM

    I feel like I could write a book, here. I feel so much of your pain, because I have been there and hearing your story takes me back to that scary, frustrated, overwhelmed place where I didn’t know how I was going to make it to the next minute, let alone the next day. My son, who was born with congenital heart disease and so many other issues I won’t list, cried constantly. I’m not kidding. For the first seven months, if he was awake he was crying. His doctor’s said his reflux was causing him pain and it took ALL THAT TIME to figure out which meds worked. I just wanted someone to fix it. Fix HIM. And how I made it to the point where we both survived was by taking one step at a time. One minute, one hour, one day, until it eventually got better.

    At the same time that was happening, my mom started having health problems and had multiple surgeries. What a time that was! She needed me, my son needed me, and I didn’t know how to be there for either of them.

    But now it’s 12 years later. Parenting my medically fragile, autistic son is still a challenge, but I also see it as a gift. We were chosen for each other to travel this journey. I suffered through those early months so I could be given the love in return. What I have gained is so much more than I ever gave.

    I know things will get better for you too. We are listening and wishing you strength, mama.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:38 PM

      It is inspiring to hear that you still have difficulties but you have persevered through them and can say that it gets better. That gives me hope. Thank you.

  46. June 14, 2014 at 10:49 AM

    You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But I understand. I do. Why, I asked myself, why did I think I could be a mom? My son cried all night. He wouldn’t nurse. He got sick. I couldn’t sleep even when he slept. I was perpetually frazzled. I became sad, then sadder, then inconsolable.

    But, my friend, IT GETS BETTER. He is not crying because you are a bad mom; he is crying because he is a baby and everything is confusing. He will, eventually, sleep. And so will you. You will begin to feel more confident as you go along.

    But you do not have to wait until it gets better to get help. Please, talk to a doctor. Taking medicine, going to a therapist, treating yourself well — they do not mean that you are a coward. They mean that you are willing to do the hard work of healing yourself.

    You are worthy of happiness. Everyone needs help. You are not a coward. (I believe that you wrote this post because you are brave. Because you want help.) You are not the only mom that has experienced these feelings. You are not a bad person.

    Parenting is hard. Depression is hard. Parenting while depressed — utterly overwhelming. But there is help out there. And you have the support of so many people. Total strangers even. Moms who have been there.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:39 PM

      I’m simply overwhelmed by all the support I’ve received from the moms on the Internet. I know it’s a small slice of people but I never thought anyone beyond my family would care whether I lived or died. Thank you for your comment. I am currently undergoing postpartum therapy.

  47. June 14, 2014 at 1:05 PM

    I saw this post because someone on the Internet read your words and wanted to gather the whole world around you for support.

    I hope you can feel us. I hope you believe us when we say you matter.

    I hope you know that means you’re not alone.

    Also, I’m breaking one of my rules here (never give unsolicited advice, especially on the Internet!!) because you might find this site helpful:


    It’s run by a wonderful woman who has gathered an enormous community of women who have been where you are right now. They found their way out. xo

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:41 PM

      Thank you so much for your comment and for being there for me. I don’t know who posted this and got this out there but I am overwhelmed by everyone’s kind words, love, and support. Each comment helps me feel a little bit better.

  48. June 14, 2014 at 1:16 PM

    Heeeeeeey. First? Love, love and more love. And then some more.

    My PPD was not so bad. Manageable. After having been on anti-depressants for about 20 years (by now) my OB-GYN and my psych coordinated their care for me, giving me the best medication for breastfeeding (zoloft) and warning me about what PPD was. So I only had that one image of throwing my baby across the room until she went *splat* against the wall (where I woke my husband up immediately because HE knew what PPD was and knew to take over). And then another incident with #2 of months and months of rage. No self-harm thoughts other than the usual.

    But given the hole and the legacy of grief that my brother’s suicide has left in our family, and the fact that you are HERE to write about what you are feeling just shouts VICTORY to me, you brave soul, you. You are still here.

    And it will get better. Your colicky son will stop crying. Mine did. And your mom won’t need you until you’re in a place where it seems natural to help. Now is not that time. Now is not the time to think about helping anyone else. And your son’s colic is not your fault. Your son has colic. Every mom would have the same trouble getting him soothed. Reach out for the local PPD group and let them carry you for awhile.

    And then suddenly one foot goes in front of the other until it gets easier to walk. And then many years pass – many happy years. And then heaven. Only then.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:47 PM

      Thank you. That was beautiful. And the thing about throwing my baby across the room until he went *splat*? Yeah, I had that thought from the moment he was placed in my arms. Those kinds of thoughts have gone away now.

  49. June 14, 2014 at 1:20 PM

    Heaven can wait! Know you are not alone. Sending you love, understanding and so much strength!!

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:47 PM

      Thank you for your encouragement.

  50. MinnesotaJoY
    June 14, 2014 at 1:34 PM

    We are here. We are sending you love. You are not alone. Please stay.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:48 PM

      I’m around. For now. Sounds like my husband would be rather pissed at me if I left him alone.

  51. June 14, 2014 at 2:05 PM

    There has never been a more difficult experience in my life than the first few months after my first child was born. The crying and not sleeping were a constant reminder that I clearly was not a good mother. But looking back what I realize (she is now a 24 year old woman) is that a bad mother wouldn’t have been so terribly upset by her baby’s discomfort and the inability to make the baby happy. A bad mother wouldn’t care.

    Millions of moms are with you, and I’ll be sending you good thoughts for a good sleep and no tears – both for you and for your baby.

    Don’t be afraid to seek help for PPD – medication changed my life after my second child was born.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:48 PM

      I am seeking help. Maybe I am beyond help.

  52. June 14, 2014 at 2:08 PM

    You are a good mother. You are just the right mother for this baby. You matter. This world is and will be better because of you. You are not alone. I really DO know exactly how you feel. It sucks. But it gets better. I promise. Love to you.

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:49 PM

      Thank you for the love and support. I hope the world is slightly better because I stayed in it.

  53. about100percent
    June 14, 2014 at 4:09 PM

    Babies cry. It doesn’t have anything to do with what kind of a mom you are.

    I’m praying for you to see that you are a great mom because you love your son. I’m praying for you to see your worth in this world. And for you to get the help and support you need right now.

    This time will pass. Until it does, please know that being a mother is hard work, and that you are exactly what your son needs, and that is more than enough.

    Much love to you. xoxo

    • Kass
      June 14, 2014 at 4:50 PM

      Thank you for the love, support, and prayers. I will try to be the kind of mother that my son needs.

  54. June 14, 2014 at 4:51 PM

    The first months or so of being a mom, a parent, are a total mindscrew. You think you’re doing everything wrong, your moods swing all over the place, your head doesn’t feel on right, depression is so so easy to slip into. When I was having a very hard time, I saw a therapist. I couldn’t deal with my head, my troubles on my own. She showed me what was happening, explained why it was happening, helped me see things differently, gave me tools to survive. And so I survived. I’m sorry your nurse did not know how to help you–someone does. Lots of people do. Grab your phone book or shout into Siri or ask a friend to help you find a professional to talk to. It can get so much better. It really can–and will. It will.

    • June 14, 2014 at 4:52 PM

      Also, I saw that you have therapists, but maybe they aren’t helping? Find another. Find the right one, no matter how long it takes. He or she is out there.

      • Kass
        June 14, 2014 at 5:10 PM

        It’s not my therapist’s fault. I am reluctant to reach out.

  55. June 14, 2014 at 8:42 PM

    I could’ve written that post almost verbatim. That said, I’m not going to tell you to hang in there or that everything’s going to be okay or give you any great tips to get you out of this like taking a walk every day or buying a gratitude journal. None of that would’ve helped me at that time (and still doesn’t when I sink into low spots — yes, even after they’re no longer babies, it still happens, at least to some people). What I will say is the only thing I can think of that would’ve made me feel a bit lighter at the time — you’re not alone. You’re not unique. There are so many of us out here who’ve felt woefully inadequate, to the point of believing everyone would have a much easier time without us.

    You will make an un-countable number of mistakes with your kid. And we’re all out here making them alongside of you.

    • Kass
      June 15, 2014 at 1:28 AM

      Thank you for reminding me that I’m not alone. I always need reminders that I’m not perfect and never will be. (A real struggle from a perfectionist.)

  56. June 14, 2014 at 9:34 PM

    What can I say that will make any of this better? That being a mom is hard? That you’re doing great? That everything you’re feeling is normal? That it will change? Please keep the faith. What you are doing is hard. You are doing great. You are normal and everything will change. I promise. I promise. I promise. [[hugs]]

    • Kass
      June 15, 2014 at 1:29 AM

      Thank you for the support and encouragement. I need every ounce of it.

  57. Stacy
    June 14, 2014 at 9:39 PM

    My oldest (now 8) cried and cried and CRIED for the first 6 months of her life. She cried no matter what I did. Of course, she cried less for her dad. I’d hold her and rock her all damn day and she’d scream. He’d come home, and pick her up, and she’d fall asleep. At one point, I told my sob story to her pediatrician who promptly told me that babies let their emotions out around the people they are most comfortable with. Babies vent, complain, bitch, whatever, by crying (and screaming). The pediatrician said babies seemed to instinctually know that they could not “vent” like that to just anyone; it is always their closest caregiver. She said her own children did exactly the same thing. So it’s normal for your baby to cry more for you, his mother, than anyone else; he isn’t complaining ABOUT you…he’s complaining TO you. It’s his way of venting his emotions to his beloved. Make sense?

    Oh, and when babies cry, they tend to swallow air, which will make them need to burp. It doesn’t mean you left a burp in there. He just made more by crying.

    Now, by the way, my screaming little baby is the world’s most beautiful and amazing 8-year-old girl. She is intelligent and athletic and confident and kind. In fact, she actually asked me to get her an orphan for her birthday because she says she has so much love to share. (Um, I said no. I think it’s the only a parent has ever wished their daughter asked for a pony.) My point is, I promise you, someday you will look back on these screaming baby days while standing hand in hand with an absolute angel. He’s a baby now; a screaming, frustrating, sometimes inconsolable baby, but he won’t always be.

    He will be your biggest fan and the love of your life.
    He will need you. You cannot see now how much, but he will.
    He will need you to be there to wipe his tears and put band-aids on his scraped knees.
    He’ll need someone to help him frost cupcakes
    To drink “tea” with out of plastic cups on his bedroom floor.
    Without you, who will he serve cold pancakes to on mother’s day (you will actually have to make them and then go back to bed so he can serve you, by the way)
    And I have no idea who would get all those bouquets of, um, “flowers” (shake them before you bring them inside. Trust me)
    He’ll need you to read him his favorite bedtime story
    To give him a hug in the morning before he brushes his teeth
    To just sit with on the couch and do nothing but watch cartoons
    He needs someone he can climb in bed with when he has a bad dream
    He needs someone he can cry with when he is sad…someone who understands what it means to be sad
    Someone has to laugh at his jokes that make no sense
    He needs someone to show him how to build a sand castle and bounce a ball and write his name and pick out his favorite color.
    And someone absolutely has to show the boy that he can’t bring “new pets” into the house (sorry; that’s coming, too).

    So you have a very important job as the most important person in the life of a budding angel. It’s tough sometimes, and you’ll put in a lot of work into helping him grow. In return, you get to be his mommy. He will love you and need you and cherish you in a way that makes no sense now, but if you hang in there, it will. I absolutely promise you this.

    Oh, and by the way, if your little guy ever brings home a Tupperware full of snails, and if those snails happen to get left in the hot sun and dry out beyond recognition, even if they have been dried out for a week, don’t worry. just pour some water in there and they’ll be slithering around again in an hour.

    Credentials: Wife to husband struggling with depression and OCD, mother to three of the greatest children on earth, guardian over a dozen zombie snails.

    Hang in there, dear. Much love to you and prayers for strength on your journey.

    • Kass
      June 15, 2014 at 1:32 AM

      That. Was. Awesome. I needed that. Thank you.

  58. June 14, 2014 at 10:01 PM

    My daughter used to scream bloody murder whenever we drove anywhere for however long until we got to our destination. It was torture.

    It’s no criticism on your parenting. It doesn’t say you are failing as a parent. It doesn’t mean your child is angry or hurt. It us something they recover from in minutes and yet reverberates within us for what seems like forever. My daughter is almost 10 now and we can drive places but she still has tears and anger that makes me vibrate inside with anxiety and heartache.

    We’re sensitive. We absorb what our children and loved ones radiate. It’s not easy but it doesn’t make us any less. We are lucky though because along with the pain we also get to feel the joy.

    Don’t be so hard on yourself. Get space and time when you need it if you can. Asking for it is not weakness or failure. Asking for it is essential. You are worth it.

    • Kass
      June 15, 2014 at 1:33 AM

      Thank you for the kind words and support. I hope my son grows out of this phase.

  1. June 13, 2014 at 9:11 PM
  2. June 16, 2014 at 1:45 PM
  3. June 23, 2014 at 10:06 AM

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