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Hiding Behind Perfection

He left the room to begin a plan of care.

I sat on the stretcher, covered from the waist down by only a thin piece of paper.

My diagnosis immediately labeled as a terrible mother.
Not to be trusted with her child

I looked over at Shawn sitting shell shocked in the chair.

“You can’t tell anyone. Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

“Yes. You’ll get better in no time. No one needs to know.”

We sat in silence until he returned to escort us out of the exam room and down that long hallway.

I paused at the waiting room entrance and I slipped my prescription for my anti-depressant in my pocket.

I put on a smile and tucked the loose ends of my hair behind my ears.

They won’t ever know.

They won’t know that I have postpartum depression and postpartum anxiety.

I hid my internal hell for months, behind that perfect smile.

Please join me over at my dear friend Lauren’s blog, My Postpartum Voice

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  1. You are so very brave for sharing your story with others. So very brave. XOXO

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