A Savvy Mom

My sweet little man,

Hi. It’s your mama. I know you don’t know that word yet, but you certainly know who I am. And you know who your daddy is. You light up when you see one of us walk in the door. You squawk with excitement and kick your legs when you see one of us come home from work. If it’s me you see, you start fussing almost immediately, because you know that seeing mama means that you can nurse and cuddle. And you want to do that right away.

You are taking great efforts every day to learn and know the world around you. You are terrifyingly mobile and interested in everything electronic. You’ve even figured out how to turn on the XBox and open the DVD slot. Your father’s child.

If someone could capture the feeling you give me when I see you every day and put it into a little bottle to sell at CVS, well that person would be like, the richest person ever. That is how you make me feel.

Some days, though, are better than others. And some days, Sam, are really rough.

I have to be honest, my little man. I’ve struggled with depression for most of my life, and it’s been progressively worse since you’ve been born. This is not because of you, but because of something in my brain that doesn’t work exactly like most people’s. It might have to do with some of the hormones in my body that were altered after I had you, but it might not. So it’s nothing personal.

Someday you’ll understand what depression is, but I hope that you do not understand the dark insides of it like I do. I hope beyond hope that it does not hurt you like it has me. And if it does, my love, I will always be there to support you, and I will always make sure that you feel like you can keep moving forward. Because that is so important.

I wanted to tell you this for a lot of reasons. I wanted to tell you this because sometimes I am not the best mom that I can be. On some days, I cry when you cry, and on other days, I crumble when I can’t get you to nap. I know you don’t notice this now, but I do, and it hurts me deeply that I sometimes cannot appreciate you as much as I feel I ought to.

The other reason I’m telling you this is because all the work I do towards healing is for you. I go to therapy for you. I talk and examine my problems for you. And I work on myself and my way of thinking as much as I can, in all the ways I can, for you. I do these things because I want you to know a mother who deals with problems when they overwhelm her, and I want you to follow that example throughout your life. I want you to know that it is okay to admit you are not perfect, because no one in this world is. Above all, I want you to remember that it’s just fine not to be perfect. On some days, you will have to remind yourself of that, and I just wanted you to hear that early on. Really early on.

Sam, you are my light when darkness and anxiety overwhelm me. You will always be my light. I am so glad I brought you into this world, because you amaze me.

I just wanted you to know all of this because I love you so much, and I will always make great effort to be honest with you and be strong for you. And there will be nothing that you can’t tell me. I am always here.

I love you.

Mom