Blue blue blue

So I think I'm one of those lucky ones who've hit the postpartum depression lottery jackpot. I'll know for sure tomorrow, as I'm seeing the doctor.

All I know is:

(1) what they call "the baby blues" is only supposed to last for a week and my baby will be 6 weeks old on Friday;
(2) now that all the extra family members have gone home I feel even more depressed;
(3) it's not normal to have involuntary fantasies of violent things happening to my baby;
(4) I kind of wish a fairy godmother would show up and make it all go away; and
(5) I miss work, although I'm not at all emotionally prepared to have a long day with a commute and nights of no sleep all mixed together, and plus I have nothing to wear yet because while I can't fit into pre-pregnancy clothes, maternity clothes look ridiculous on me. It totally sucks.

I don't think this is normal to feel this way.

This afternoon I had to go to the store to pick up diapers and a few things (pads - did you know you can't have any "vaginal penetration" for 6 weeks? So no tampons) and I was walking down the baking aisle. This man who looked old enough to be retired was standing in front of the condensed milk part and asked me "do you know if any of these have evaporated milk?" I said "um, I don't know". He said "YOU DON'T KNOW?!? YOU DON'T KNOW?!?" As if how could I possibly not know that, I had a baby in a carseat in my car, obviously I am nothing more than a housewife and I should know this. I told him he should ask a someone who works there, but what I really wanted was to shout at him to go fuck himself. I think I'm a little touchy.

And I can't get enough sleep. Speaking of which, I'm cutting into sleeping time by writing this. Yet I have a hunch that writing should eventually help me feel beter, so it's a double-edged sword. Sigh.