Melissa's Place

Post Partum Support Group

Today, I felt like I was in a weird and ironic Gary Larson comic. I was already going on the adventure of leaving the house with my 3-week old baby. I was already anxious that he would scream and cry the entire time I was gone. I was already nervous about attending my very first post-partum depression support group.

I left the house a bit later than I'd hoped. I'd had to wake the baby and broken rule #1 of Parenting. We were all loaded up and in the car and listening to my favourite country music radio station, when I missed my exit off the highway. Oops. I realized I'd be at least 10 minutes late. I had to exit at the next off ramp and circle back. Okay. No big deal. Cole was not crying. I could handle this.

I found the North Service Road and drove along it slowly, searching for the building number 461. I didn't see it. I turned around and drove the same stretch again. I repeated this maneuver three times. Then I drove in a few driveways - maybe the Early Years Centre was in back of a building.

I stopped to ask a lady for directions. I rolled down my window. She said she had no idea. Then I tried to roll up my automatic window and it wouldn't go. I began to panic. I had a baby in the back and I had to go on the highway to get home and it was snowing!

I had a friend, Nej, who lives in the area so I decided I'd go to her place. On the way there, however, I saw a Honda dealership. So I drove in, took Cole in his car seat, and went into the service bay in tears. "My car.....window won't go up....baby!" The lady took my keys, went out to the car, and came back in saying that the "lock" button was on and the window was now up. I hugged her.

I got back into my car. It was now well past 1 o'clock. The group went until 2:30. I decided to go to Nej's house and ask her for directions. I knew she knew where the Childcare centre was. I tried phoning her house. No answer. I drove to her house. No car. I tried her cell phone. Answering machine.

I drove back to North Service Road East and drove the loop two more times. I asked for directions (via my passenger side window) and the dude wasn't from around here. I asked a cook who was smoking out behind a Fusion restaurant. He didn't speak English.

I finally stopped at the gas station. A man with a very bushy moustache gave me very detailed directions, explaining that I had to get to North Service Road WEST (I had begun sensing this might be the case). His instructions involved getting back on the highway.

I got back into my car. But before merging to the highway, I saw a sign for the North Service Road and I was too tempted by the short-cut, so I took it. Well, it turns out that construction had blocked that route, so I had to weave my way through residential roads trying to find another way. I was cursing myself for not listening to bushy-moustache man.

It was now close to 1:50 and group would be well under way. I was crying in great heaves and sobs and I'm sure I looked quite a mess. I was very tempted to go home, but amidst the complete disaster of the outting, it felt like a much larger defeat to go to all this trouble and never reach my destination. So my new goal became to arrive at the support group location before it ended at 2:30.

I finally found it at 2:10. I walked in with puffy eyes, disshevelled hair and one sleeping Cole in a car seat. I was escorted by a gentle lady to the room with the nurse and the group. They assured me I'd come to the right place.

I sat down at a table. They asked me to introduce myself. And it came out something like....."Hi. My name is Melissa.....and I'm always on time."