On the tenth day of Dismissmas,
Postpartum sent to me
Ten women all buttoned up,
Nine ladies grinning,
Eight maids no longer nursing,
Seven sins a-lurking,
Six women a-denying,
Five hours of sleep,
Four Just Snap out of Its,
Three perfect babies,
Two depressed parents,
And a wailing mess in a pear tree.
Imagine you have just received a package from the UPS guy. You eagerly open the box only to find another wrapped box inside. You tear into the wrapping paper, discarding it as you excitedly strain to see what’s inside.
Let’s say it’s a really awesome doll which comes pre-programmed to say anything you want it to say in your own voice. You’ve ordered it for your child. As you push the button to record, everything seems to be in order. But when you press the replay button, silence. So you press it again. Nothing. What the ….
You press it again. Hold it longer. You can feel your frustration rising.
Why won’t the damned thing talk?
Talk, dammit! That’s what you’re supposed to do! Talk! Just like me!
You begin to look for the instructions. Maybe the doll has to be standing on just her left foot with her right arm touching her nose in order to talk. Yeah, maybe .. Umm.. no.
You change the batteries.
You find the number for the company to call for help.
Should you call? What will they say? Send it back? But Christmas is the day after the day after tomorrow (holy crap it really is!) and your kid will be irked if he/she doesn’t have the ONE thing under the tree they really wanted. So you’re stuck.
With a doll you can’t tell you what’s going wrong. She’s gone silent on you and you? You are ready to slam your head into a brick wall.
THAT? Is how your significant other feels when you answer “How are you doing?” with the word “fine” when things are so very obviously NOT FINE.
Silence serves no one.
Silence hurts you. It hurts them. It heals nothing.
Break the silence. Recover. There is no shame in recovery.