I fed Brooklyn and rocked her to sleep like I do every night. Brandon started the dishwasher since we knew it would be a while before she ate again. I rocked and rocked. And she would whine and not go to sleep.

There was no way she was hungry. She just ate 4 ounces an hour ago. So she finally goes to sleep. It's midnight by this time. I lay her down in the pack and play. And she cries. And I burst into tears. I have been trying for 2 hours to feed her and get her to sleep and I'm exhausted. I make the bottle. This time it's 5 ounces. You would swear we starve the child with how much she's crying. And I'm crying. Brandon stays up with me even though he has to be up in 5 hours for work.

And she drinks the whole 5 ounces. And again I rock her. And all I can say is I'm fine through the tears. He knows it's not fine. But he knows I'm too stubborn and he can't win. He goes to bed and he lets me rock her to sleep.

Fast forward almost 5 hours. She's awake again. I change her, feed her, rock her. And she's asleep. Finally more sleep for me. 2 hours later she's awake and so is the sun. Same routine hoping to get just a little more rest. 2 more hours and we're up for the day.

I'm not myself today. I want to get out of the house but can't get up the courage. We have visitors and they bring food. I'm glad because I probably wouldn't have ate otherwise. They leave and I'm counting down until Brandon comes home. He always makes me feel better.

It's bedtime again. Same routine different night. This time Brandon feeds her. He says he's gonna wash bottles so I rock her to sleep. I tell him I'll talk a bath once she's asleep. I rock her and she's asleep. I don't want to put her down. And I sit and hold her. I finally put her in her to bed and Brandon is ready to go to sleep. No bath for me. I take a melatonin since it's Brandons turn to get up with her.

While I wait for the melatonin to kick in me and Brandon talk for a few minutes. We pray and kiss goodnight. I close my eyes. And she cries. 45 minutes was all she was asleep. I pick her up and rock her for a minute before handing her to Brandon. She's still crying. I get and attitude and ask arent you going to feed her. He asks what's wrong and I say in a very rude tone that I have post partum depression, don't rub it in my face. He's heartbroken. He tells me he's not rubbing it in my face he was just asking what was wrong with me. He asks if it upsets me when she cries. And I say yes. He leaves the room to feed her. And I cry myself to sleep.

Today was a bad day.

Please read my blog for more honest posts on becoming a mom: http://bluntsouthernmama.blogspot.com/?m=1