My Experience as a Warrior and Surviving Post-Partum Depression
When I was thirty and pregnant with my (now two year-old) daughter, I had read everything I could find about pregnancy, labour and delivery, and life with a newborn. Throughout my pregnancy, everything progressed very normally until towards the end, when I started gaining over 5lbs a week. I was ordered off my feet for the last few weeks. My labor was eventually induced because of increasing edema and high blood pressure at 38 weeks. I was in labour for three days, then I pushed for six hours, and she was finally pulled from me with forceps. She latched on right away, and I felt that indescribable rush of maternal love that so many of us feel. Recovering was challenging, due to the trauma in my pelvic region – I had four sets of stitches from two tears and two episiotomies. It was weeks before I could walk normally. I had read somewhere that having a difficult birthing experience, among other factors, makes a woman more likely to suffer post-partum depression.
Baby Blues or Something Else?
I had severe “baby blues” when my daughter was a week old. The only way that I can describe this, is, I couldn’t stop crying for maybe three days. The visiting public health nurse (bless her heart) said that it sounded like baby blues, because, the hormones are all “out of whack” after being pregnant and they can really wreak havoc on a woman’s emotions. She recommended that I “keep an eye on it” and if things didn’t improve, to speak to my doctor. It did lessen up for the most part so I wasn’t concerned. In the meantime, due to an improper latch that didn’t heal for a long time, breastfeeding was incredibly painful for me in the early months.
Taking Care of Yourself
I was determined to keep it up because my nipples didn’t crack or bleed, I had a fairly good milk supply, and I felt adamant about giving my infant the breast. As a result, when she was hungry and my milk let down, I was in physical pain. I tried to breathe deeply, I tried to reaffirm to myself that “this is the most natural thing in the world, I am so lucky to have this perfect and wonderful child in my arms”, but my silent tears would not stop. I took up smoking cigarettes again (I had quit the day I found out I was pregnant) when she was eight weeks old and those moments of five minutes to myself outside when she was napping were absolute gold to me. I’d sit, smoke and cry, not always in that order. Then in the car, I’d often listen to classical music very loudly and wish for some kind of natural disaster that would wipe me off the face of the earth – while leaving my beloved child intact and healthy in the arms of her father.
Asking For Help… Helped
I asked for help whenever I could from my family and friends, but, no one could give me the kind of help that I needed. I broke down in tears at a checkup with the ob-gyn, and she sent off an urgent referral to the reproductive mental health team at the hospital. They prescribed medication, in combination with counseling. I felt a huge weight off my shoulders.
Warrior Mother
It wasn’t an easy battle, but I told myself that I am a Warrior Mother – if I can deal with post-partum depression, I can handle anything life throws at me. It’s true. PPD hurts and it kills. I fought my way out of it largely because I feel an overwhelmingly strong pull to be the Mother that my little girl deserves. Since then, I’ve become a single parent and I have the strength to get through the hard times, and I’ve quit smoking. I have a healthy sense of self-worth, confidence in my parenting skills, and emotional well-being.
I’m writing this for you, today, to tell you that post-partum depression can sneak up on you. Even if you know all about it, even If you have a strong support system, even if you love your children more than life itself. If you’ve had a baby in the last year and you don’t feel “right” mentally and emotionally, you cry a lot, or you have thoughts/ideations of suicide, I urge you: TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR. In the meantime: Go easy on yourself. Take some deep breaths and know that this moment – good or bad – will pass. You’re not alone. You’ll be okay, I promise.
Kelly Martin
Kelly, I am so proud that you have come forward to share your experience. I feel not a lot of women talk about PPD and find it frowned apon if you express any hint that you may be experiencing it.
I think PPD is partly caused by the fact that during your pregnancy all you hear about are the Congradulations , happy , perfect , bonding , baby showers etc . All you see are perfect Huggies commercials, happy babies and toddlers playing with toys or commercials where the baby is sleeping so peacefully. ( both of my girls did not sleep like that at all )
When this is in your face for 9 months and you finally see that it is not at all how everyone told you how it can be is very misleading.
During your pregnancy I think you only hear about PPD a few times, At the doctor’s or prenatal programs and maybe a few friends or family will mention it but no one really talks about the depth of the depression.
Good read. Thanks Kelly.
Rebecca,
Thank you for reading, and for sharing your perspective. You’re right about all the excitement and expectations. In my case I was very “go with the flow”, and it came as a surprise to find myself having a seriously hard time adjusting, that’s for sure.
I’m quite happy to share this, from a much healthier place. It’s unfortunate that we have a difficult time addressing it.
Kelly
Thanks for sharing your story. My son was also born in June of 2013. I had a normal pregnancy and thought I had prepared myself for a painful albeit typical birthing process. At 37 weeks, my plans were completely ripped away from me – I was ordered onto bed rest, taken out of work early, and ended up with an urgent c section. I felt like I didn’t get to participate in my son’s birth, like I was a spectator. I was just laying there, chatting with the anesthesiologist, and 45 minutes later, they handed me some baby. He was really cute, but then I kind of wanted to hand him back to someone and feel MY baby kick me on the inside again. I didn’t feel like he was mine. Then he wouldn’t latch. I couldn’t get out of bed for 2 days to change a diaper or hold him when he cried, and then he wouldn’t latch. I felt useless. My husband turned into super dad and took care of everything. I felt like the two of them would be better off without me. I was so determined to breastfeed. I felt that I had failed him during delivery, and refused to accept that formula fed babies are just fine. I hated breastfeeding. It hurt for weeks. I sobbed. I hid under the covers when the baby was hungry every 2 hours at night. Once, I looked at him crying in the bassinet and just walked away and shut the door so I couldn’t hear him. Then I cried because I couldn’t be the mother that I envisioned I would be. I would panic when he cried – my husband could somehow always soothe him. I internalized this as the baby didn’t like me. He knew that I was failing him. He thought that I was a bad mother. He knew he deserved better. I would drive and think…. well, it wouldn’t be so terrible if an accident happened and I just died – as long as the baby was fine. Maybe I wouldn’t necessarily cause an accident, but maybe I wouldn’t try to avoid one either. I was like a zombie – I would hope that I would have nonstop visitors every day because maybe someone would catch on that something wasn’t right. I fall deep into thought, wondering how I would save the baby if the car became submerged in water, if we were on a ferris wheel and our bench fell from the sky, if I was holding him at the beach and he was swept out of my arms, if the house was on fire, if our airplane were crashing, if we were pinned under a tractor trailer, if a gunman tried to break into the house, if I were to fall down the stairs while carrying him…
About 3 weeks after delivery, I started going to a support group for new moms struggling with anxiety and depression. It has helped me so much to know that there are other women who feel the same way I do. I can share my “disaster scenarios,” as I call them, without judgment. I started seeing a therapist, and she’s been working with me to refocus my energy onto living in the present. I’ve been getting better and it’s been hard work. But I’ve been getting better. Reading other’s stories and sharing my own has been so helpful. I also want to stress to other moms that they are not alone, that there are so many of us, and that there is help available.