Didn't you know I'd gone mad?

So the twitching woman said to her GP. Humour speckled the consultation and it helped both of us talk about a difficult matter. Well, difficult for me anyway. He scanned my notes on screen and asked a few basic questions, like do I feel like harming myself or my children (no), and am I sleeping (no).
He then offered to book an emergency session with a counselor this week to determine whether counseling will help, and suggested we get together after that to make a plan of action. If counseling isn't the right course, then a referral to psych and medication may be on the cards.
He explained what he thought was happening to me. A reaction to a number of things, both physiological and otherwise. The c-section, the near-death thing and Ezra's hospitalization. Family concerns, chemicals and hormones. Expectations and loss combined.
I felt relieved to be heard and understood. He knows me well enough to know that I am a practical sort, and I need a helping hand to sort things out. He was kind enough to extend one.