It occurred to me as I was rocking Ava this afternoon with tears streaming down my face, feeling alone and overwhelmed, that it was not an entirely unfamiliar feeling.  I remember, 3 months after Nathanael was born, having a complete meltdown because the Christmas cards I was making were not finished by the time I thought I needed them done.    If either of these instances had happened in the first few weeks postpartum, I would have immediately chalked it up to hormones…it’s happened after each birth (and miscarriage).  I sort of expect it and while it isn’t fun, at least I know why.

With Ava, I thought I somehow got out of the whole emotional mess that typically follows birth.  When my hair started coming out in handfuls a week or two ago, though, I should have realized what was coming.  My postpartum hair loss normally starts right away, too, so when it proved to have merely been delayed, rather than avoided altogether, I should have been prepared for what was to come. It seems that the baby blues have caught up with me.

So, with the realization that my tears and heartache might be just a teensy bit magnified, I determined to ignore them to the best of my ability, and set about fixing my thoughts on Jesus.  It’s certainly not the most fun, but I know it will pass and I’m thankful for a God who carries me through my weakness.