I never thought postpartum would happen to me.

My midwife had shared the typical advice about the chance of experiencing "baby blues'' after childbirth.

Baby blues commonly includes mood swings, crying spells, anxiety and difficulty sleeping. Baby blues typically begin within the first two to three days after delivery, and may last for up to two weeks. But IF those symptoms lasted longer, it could mean possible postpartum depression and I would then need to touch base with my doctor or counselor.

I think I was okay hearing about the “baby blues.” It sounded pretty normal considering my body was about to do one of the most amazing things ever; giving birth to a LIFE.

As much as I prayed and prepared for a successful home birth, when the time came, I never went into labor. Disappointed much? Absolutely, I was! I had already overcome so many obstacles including the verbal put downs and jokes about even considering a home birth.

Honestly though, I was not mentally prepared to go to the hospital. It was the last thing I wanted. I was overdue and had to be induced at almost 43 weeks. It took an entire 5 days in the hospital to actually get my body to accept inductions and get into physical labor.

It was the hardest, most exhausting week of my life.

Of course, when my daughter arrived, my heart exploded into a confetti of true love. I was in awe and wonder of God’s greatest miracle to ever happen in my lifetime. I was on cloud nine!

Seven days later, my husband had to return to work. And just a few days after that, my Mom had to fly back home and return to work as well. I was on my own, but I kept my hopes up and wanted to stay excited about this new journey that I was on.

I was getting to know a brand new person and she depended entirely on me.

I did all of the things…napping when the baby napped, asking for help from my Mother-in-Law for hot meals. Getting that nice long hot shower in. My best friend even visited me every chance she could while she was in town. She would bring me hot coffee and snacks and would listen and let me cry all of the tears I needed to.

That seemed normal to me.

Soon, I began having breastfeeding issues which led to an unexpected and severe mastitis infection. And because I was allergic to the typical medical treatment, I was informed that I had to stop breastfeeding. I had to pump and dump all of my milk production for two weeks until the infection was cleared.

I literally cried at the sink every time I had to empty the milk down the drain.

As I poured o