I am suffering from postpartum depression, I'm obsessing over my son's hair loss, and when I'm not obsessing over him I freaking out over the biopsy I have to have next week. Why me? What did I do to deserve this. Its like God telling me I was too happy in life and was getting too comfortable with things going well. So haha joke is on me.
Its all I can do to get in the shower each day. I drag myself out of bed and walk downstairs with my stomach in my throat that there will be a new spot when I see him. I brush his hair as carefully as possible so as not to pull anymore out. And hope that he isn't upset again today that we can't spike his hair. I have quit putting any product in his hair and am washing it with Nioxin every other day. At some point during the day I convince myself that I have to shower so as not to alarm my husband that my depression is getting worse. I pick up my son from school, I put on a strong face and smile big when he gets in the car, and inside panic that I'm going to look at his head and see more hair missing. Fear has this huge hold on me. Fear and depression are best friends and they are tearing into me with a vengeance.
Today we see the dermatologist again. I wasn't pleased with her telling me it will be fine. I want more answers. I'm hoping she will do what I ask. I want her to run a cbc, check his iron levels, and his thyroid. I want to know if something is causing this. I need to take some form of control back over this disease. Why cant there just be an answer. All they things we can find a cure for but we can't grow hair.
And somewhere in all of this I have to find it in me to also parent my teenager and newborn. I just don't know how much more I can take...
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