I ALMOST GOT INTO A SLAP FIGHT WITH A BREASTFEEDING MOTHER THE OTHER DAY.

We get looks. I'm used to them. I'm obviously African American and my son, well, it isn't quite as obvious. It must have something to do with that whole White dad thing. Hmmm... So, we get looks when we're out. People pause before complementing me on his rampant adorableness. After all - you don't want to complement the nanny! Growing up in my rainbow of a family (another post for another day) I was prepared for all of this. I was completely unprepared for this woman.

I was a bad mother today. 

We didn't have the easiest night, I got about four or five hours of sleep but it was split into four chunks, so... yes I am writing this from the Starbucks closest to my house. I ran away from home for an hour or two (or as long as I can go until the boobs threaten to burst!).

Good Day. An actual good day.

Ok - a good day in PPD land is not the same as a good day nationwide, but still, for me, this is big. Buddy shat on me today. Why and/or how that fixed something in me that was broken I cannot explain.

My mom hasn't been over since I was diagnosed. This week was super busy for her so she missed her usual days with the Buddy. I was looking forward to her getting here today so much. I should have known better. Without going into our entire backstory (mothers and daughters... you don't want to go there) I can say that pretty much every time I have an expectation of comfort it blows up in my face.

Breastfeeding is best. For you and your baby. It's natural. You were made to do this. Your baby was made to do this. You naturally fit together and you are all your baby needs.

Maybe to some people these are beautiful words about the bond between a mother and her child. To a mother who for any reason cannot breastfeed they are slaps in the face, punches to the gut and stabs in the heart.

I took the Zoloft for the first time a couple minutes ago because I don't want to feel like this anymore. I want to actually want to hold my baby. I remember being unable to put him down, now I don't even want to look at him. How can you be angry at a 4 week old? It isn't his fault that he can't stop crying.