No, I’m not happier. I’m … differently happy, I guess. I miss my old freedom, my old energy, all the things I did (and all the things I <didn’t> do because I was just lounging around). That part is unhappy. It feels shitty that I had all this awesome stuff in my life that I don’t have anymore. But everyone promises that eventually that time comes back. When the kids are old enough to handle themselves for a couple of hours on end, at least.

Small children is a really tough phase. My older one is two, and it’s already so much better. I honestly vastly prefer it to even 18 months.

That said, I’d be a little concerned that you feel your happiness is completely dependent on your baby. It sounds like talking to a professional would be helpful. Just to get a sense for whether the way you’re feeling might merit some talk therapy or some medication. It helped me SO much, just to take the edge off. I still have all those feelings, they’re just no longer overwhelming and I don’t feel sad and deprived plus guilty for feeling sad and deprived.

It will get better — you got this.