Hannah was 4 months old. At the time, I was the front-end manager for Albertsons.
It was a Tuesday, the day I was suppose to go in and write the schedule. I remember sitting on the couch in the living room and Hannah laying there, screaming. I sat there, staring at this baby who would not stop screaming. I just stared at her. I let her scream. I started crying. I cried and cried and cried. I couldn't really be a mom, could I? I then knew and accepted the fact that I needed help.
I called my work first and told them I would be in later that night to write the schedule. I then made the call to my doctor. They immediately called in a prescription for me. I had it...postpartum depression. Postpartum depression is very real. I didn't know how real until I acknowledged that I had it.
A couple of days later, my boss called me into her office. Something she had never done before. She asked me what was going on. I guess many of my employees had complained that I was not myself and not getting the job done. I then proceeded to tell her that I had a meltdown; that I had talked to the doctor and was starting on a prescription. She then opened up to me. Again something I have never experienced from her before. She told me she recently had a breakdown at work and was put on the same medication as me. She was suffering from depression as well. I told her I should start to feel better within the next couple of weeks and she would see an improvement.
I then went home and cried. I cried and cried and cried some more. I then accepted the fact I was miserable in my job and it was time to find a new one. Joe was working at T-Mobile at the time and they offered me a part time job. I accepted the position after some persuasion.
I then began to feel better. I had my head on straight and a new job. A breath of fresh air.
Today I was with Emmy. Emmy is a very vibrant child. I am CONVINCED she has A.D.D. She is so stinkin' smart but she does not focus when you are trying to talk to her.
I tried to get her to go on the potty three times today. All three times, right after she would tell me "No," she peed her pants.
Then I received a call from Hannah saying she was sick and she needed me to go get her from school. I had to clean up Emmy from her potty mess and then I started to look for my keys.
I searched high and low for them and they were no where to be found. I asked Emmy several times where they were since she was playing with them yesterday. She just ignored me. I looked for a whole hour. I FINALLY got her attention and she responds, "I know where they are mommy." She opens the front door and takes me to the side of the house. She had buried them in the dirt.
I laughed and cried at the same time. I wanted to freak out and scream and act like two but I acknowledged that my Emmy is a 3-year-old. She is still learning and I am the adult. I got her in the car and we picked Hannah. Hannah asked me what took so long and I told her. We both laughed about it. We got home and I took a deep breath. I had calmed down. I hugged Emilee. I told her I loved her.
In full disclosure, being a manager is not nearly as hard as being a Mom. I acknowledge that I am not a perfect parent by any means. But boy am I glad I accepted the job!
Although, Emilee, let's not bury Mommy's keys any more.
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