argue. She just sat down in the seat and stared straight ahead. Dixie poured a cup of coffee and put it in front of her with some cream and sugar.
"Thanks."
Dixie sat down across from her. "I'm just going to cut straight to the chase."
“Okay…”
"I had postpartum depression."
"You did?"
"I did. I can tell you’re struggling something fierce, Meg. But you don't have to. There's help out there for you. Back in my day, there was no help."
"I think maybe I'm just really tired. Vivi hasn't been the best sleeper…”
Dixie held up her hand. "No. Honey, I don't mean to be harsh, but you know as well as I do that this is about more than just you being tired."
Meg’s eyes welled with tears. "I've never felt like this before."
“I understand. I really do. When my son was about eight weeks old, I remember Johnny found me curled up in the fetal position, crying beside our washing machine, my cheek pressed to the linoleum floor.”
Meg couldn’t help but giggle at the image. “Why?”
“I can’t remember exactly what happened, but I do know it had something to do with not being able to get a prune baby food stain off of one of his little sleeper suits. I thought it was just the end of the world, ya know? Like it meant I was a terrible momma.”
“I get it.”
“Another time, I was at the grocery store, and I realized at the checkout line that I’d left my money at home. I had my baby on my hip and he was just a fussing up a storm. I was so embarrassed that I just broke down in tears and slid to the floor. The poor manager had to get me up and help me to my car while somebody called Johnny at work. I was a mess.”
“It’s hard to imagine you were ever a mess, Dixie,” Meg said.
“Well, I was. A big mess, in fact. But, it got better. You’ll get better too, Meg. But, your momma is worried about you."
Meg sighed. "I know. She tried to talk to me the other night, and I lost it. I don't know what came over me."
"Your emotions are all over the place. Who can blame you? Hormones are crazy things. I hate to tell you, but menopause is almost as bad."
Meg chuckled softly. "Oh great. Something to look forward to."
"Well, don't you worry too much about it. You have a few decades before you need to worry about that. But, for now, you have to seek out some help. You can't do this alone. And you shouldn't have to."
"I don't know what to do."
Dixie stood up and walked over to one of her bookshelves, taking a book off of it. She handed it to Meg.
"We just got this book in the other day. It's all about postpartum depression and some natural things you can do to help yourself. But, in the meantime, your first stop needs to be to see your doctor. And I think you should invite your momma to come with you. She wants to help you, sweetie."
Meg wiped away a tear. "It's just that I have disappointed her so much with all of this, and I wanted to be this perfect model mother. I wanted her to be proud of me."
Dixie's eyes opened wide. "You can't be serious! Your momma is as proud as punch of you! She talks about you girls all the time. And she hasn't been disappointed in you at all. She loves that baby."
"I know she does. But she has to be disappointed in me. How could she not be?"
"Let me ask you a question. Do you love that little baby there?"
She smiled as she looked at Vivi sleeping so peacefully. "With every fiber of my being. I never knew I could love someone so much.”
“Is there anything she could ever do that would make you be disappointed in her? That would make you not support her?"
Meg looked at her daughter for a few moments. “Never."
"Mothers are mothers forever. It doesn't matter if they have babies or full grown kids. You are a part of your mother until the day she dies. There is nothing you can do to make her love you any less or be disappointed in you. You’ve got to stop that kind of thinking!"
Meg really did appreciate the way Dixie talked to her. She often wished that her own grandmother, SuAnn, was the same kind of person. But SuAnn was much more critical than she