I thought telling a new mother to take time for herself, page through a magazine, and sip tea to be a bit unrealistic, unless you can afford a nanny. My friends tell me new motherhood is more like obtaining a 55-gallon box of LEGOs, spreading them all over the house, and trying to walk to the bathroom blindfolded. Then you can't scream because you might wake your child. I wonder if post partum depression has to do with the shock of realizing 110% of the self you once had has to be sacrificed 24/7 for the rest of your life. Maybe the new mother is grieving for a dead person, the one she once was.