A few days ago I read a post by my friend Jenn. She wrote about how being a mom with depression can sometimes suck and when I saw the title of her post I thought, You bet it does. And it does, there’s no doubt about it. But Jenn’s post was actually about more than that.

…this post is not about parenting with depression it is about parenting after getting help for it. You see, there are still days that I can feel the effects of my depression on my parenting.

Oh lady, I so know what you mean.

As I sit here, nauseated and with a burgeoning belly, I think back to my last pregnancy. I remember thinking how amazing it was going to be to have a child and what a wonderful mother I would be. I thought about soft blankets and small toes and a warm baby asleep on my chest. I thought about how romantic it would be to get up with a tiny baby in the stillness of the night.

I thought, in other words, about all the things most about-to-be-mothers think about. What I did not think about, however, was how it might not be like that and how I would not be able to control how I responded to all that hard.

I did not think about how I actually don’t always get to choose the kind of mother I want to be.

Like Jenn said, I feel as though my experience with PPD has forever altered the type of mom I am.

I thought I would spend time dreaming up activities to do with my kids instead of being scared to plan something only to have it go sideways and not be able to cope with that.

I thought I’d be attentive to their nutritional needs, always ensuring they got a wide variety of things to eat, not making Kraft Dinner with ketchup on the side because it’s the only thing I have the energy to make.

I thought I’d be good at playing and didn’t expect to be left with a post-PPD desire for me time that kicks and flails and insists on being acknowledged to the detriment of “good mother” priorities.

However… that’s all just for context and not really what this post is about. I’ve been doing okay (better, anyway) in some areas so today I figured I’d link up with Charity for her Mother’s Pride Blog Carnival and acknowledge some of the things I think are going well. Or better than before, anyway.

I’ve been doing bath time without feeling like it’s a major energy suck and something I have to work up to doing.

I’ve been doing better at redirecting behaviour like yelling or throwing things without feeling like I’m going to snap.

I’m a little better at playing. Sometimes.

I’m pretty good at doing countdowns so we can eat lunch/leave an activity/get to bed without any meltdowns.

I’m better at asking for help.

And while I’m on the subject of pride, I’m very proud of my son for adapting well to his new school and for his insatiable curiosity and inspiring confidence when it comes to Lego, and very proud of my husband for picking up the slack while I focus on not puking everywhere.

So that’s what I’m proud of, even though I’m not the mom I thought I was going to be. But is any of us? Are you?