I felt as if I had taken steps backward. Although I got up each day, put one foot in front of the other, and did what I needed to do, I often awoke in the morning with the thought I wish I were dead. The other thought that always followed was, Help me, Momma, help me. Although I was finding myself more irritable with the children, the third thought, the one that would finally get me out of bed, was, My kids need me.
