I don’t think I’m depressed
I don’t think it’s ppd, I think it’s regret. She’s almost six weeks and perfect, amazing sleeper, good eater, she has almost no problems except colic. And that’s just a walk outside, or a car ride away from sleeping soundly again. I cannot help but think about how I didn’t get to do everything a young person should do before having a family. I had lead a very sheltered life and jumped into this one with my first serious relationship. I feel like an awful parent because I’m just now thinking of things I cannot do with a daughter needing me at home. She’s as perfect as a baby can get, I hate that I’m just now thinking this. I don’t want her to grow up thinking she ruined anything or feeling like she’s a burden when it was my choice to have her. I keep trying to tell myself that it’ll be better when she’s older, but I remember back when I was pregnant or even before when I dreamt of having a child and how I’d be happy. I was wrong then and i might be wrong again. She needs a different mother.