I’ve wondered lately that maybe after all this time if I’ve snapped.

I went into premature labor at 32wks with my firstborn and was only 18yrs old. I was alone at first except my batshit crazy mother-in-law who brought her two year old and made matters worse. My son almost died and I stayed in the nicu with him during all available hours day and night. I never cried never did anything, but sit and watch him, then hold him, and bathe him and finally take him home. They threw around ppd, but it wasn’t that. I wasn’t depressed. I was numb. I was not numb toward my son. I was terrified for him and excited to watch him grow. I was numb toward everything else. I took every bit of news good or bad with an OK. I processed quietly and sat watching him. I never ate and barely…

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