Breaking the Silence: My Story On Living Through Post-partum Depression

This post is an emotionally charged post and hard to write. But I feel I need to tell my story if not for myself but for someone else who may be suffering from Post-Partum Depression and feel like they are alone or can’t talk about it. First thing first, you are NOT alone. Approximately 600,000 women suffer from post-partum depression each year, but that number can be much higher because many women do not report their symptoms or do not realize what they are feeling is post-partum depression.

“Postpartum depression seems to be brought on by the changes in hormone levels that occur after pregnancy. Any woman can get postpartum depression in the months after childbirth, miscarriage, or stillbirth.

You have a greater chance of getting postpartum depression if:

You've had depression or postpartum depression before.

You have poor support from your partner, friends, or family.

You have a sick or colicky baby.

You have a lot of other stress in your life.

A woman who has postpartum depression may:

Feel very sad, hopeless, and empty. Some women also may feel anxious.

Lose pleasure in everyday things.

Not feel hungry and may lose weight. (But some women feel hungrier and gain weight).

Have trouble sleeping.

Not be able to concentrate.

These symptoms can occur in the first day or two after the birth. Or they can follow the symptoms of the baby blues after a couple of weeks.” (WebMD)

This is where my story starts. Three years ago I gave birth to a wonderful baby boy. For two years I felt overwhelmed, upset, disconnected from my family, and just down all the time. For the longest time I really thought it was because I was a mom to a newborn again after many years (at that time my oldest was 12 years old and my now middle child was 10) and I was much older than before. I was also desperately trying to breastfeed again. With my older two children no matter what I tried I couldn’t produce enough milk. I ended up using a supplemental nursing system so I could breastfeed and formula feed them. But this time around I wanted to breastfeed so badly and it killed me I couldn’t produce enough. I finally gave up after 5 months and just exclusively formula fed. Don’t get me wrong, I am not against formula in any way. My older two got it and millions of other babies do too. But have you ever been told you couldn’t do something and it made you want to do it even more? Well that is how I felt with breastfeeding. I tried so hard with two previous babies that I was so determined to breastfeed Liam. After many emotional meltdowns I finally gave up. Liam was almost 3 months old and I just didn’t have it in me anymore. I figured all of the emotions I had were from not being able to breastfeed. Then life got crazy again, and again, and again. So I always just thought what I was feeling was a side effect from what was going on in our life at that time. It wasn’t until early summer of 2014 that I wondered if I had post-partum depression. I even did a few Google searches on Post-Partum Depression two years after a child was born, but once again I pushed the thought aside because my son was almost 2 years old. How is it possible I would still be suffering from post-partum depression?

I was so embarrassed to even bring up the topic to my husband, my doctor, even a close friend. I LOVED my son so much but at times I just didn’t like him. Even as I type this it is hard to comprehend that I didn’t like a child, MY child. As much of a mommy’s boy my son is and always has been I didn’t feel like I had a connection with him. I went through the motions of being his mom and doing what I was supposed to do, but mentally I just wasn’t there like I wish I had. I really wish I had figured things out before then and didn’t just put it aside like it would go away. Maybe it was a side effect from being so ill while pregnant, hormones, or whatever but it doesn’t change the fact that mentally and emotionally I was not connected to my child like a mother should.

In the summer of 2014 we decided to have another baby. I don’t regret our decision in the least bit but looking back I probably should have taken care of myself first before getting pregnant. I have a bad habit of putting myself and my needs on the back burner. I am a caregiver at heart and feel everyone else’s needs are more important. Fast forward 9 months through another horrible pregnancy (got to love Hyperemesis Gravidarum and yes this will be a post at a later date) I finally gave birth to a baby girl in June 2015.

I knew almost immediately something was wrong. I didn’t feel happy to have a new baby. I was just going through the motions again and all I could think of was she was one more thing on my plate I had to deal with. The three days in the hospital were just slow and all I wanted to do was sleep and let her sleep. I would change her and feed her because I knew she needed to be cared for. I kissed her and hugged her and told her I love her because I knew that is what I was supposed to do, but I just wasn’t there. I felt so disconnected from that hospital room and my baby. I talked to my Midwife who said to come in to the office in two weeks if I was still feeling that way. I didn’t even make it a week. By the end of that first week I was a mess and just couldn’t cope. All I wanted to do was cry and I didn’t want to deal with anyone, child or adult. I just couldn’t cope with life. I like to joke now that I just couldn’t adult anymore but it isn’t that far off from the truth.

The Midwife gave me a prescription for an anti-depressant and a suggestion to get counseling. I have known for a while I needed to speak with a counselor just to handle everything I go through on a day to day basis, but I was honestly to embarrassed to even admit that anything was wrong. I also didn’t want to talk to family or friends because I didn’t want them to make a big deal out of it. At this point my husband knew something wasn’t right and we talked and he was a great support. But I kept everything inside and that could have made things worse.

I took the medication for about two weeks and felt great and slowly I stopped taking them. It wasn’t because I thought I was better and didn’t need them (at first) it was because I have a really bad habit of forgetting to take meds. One missed dose turned into two, and then three. I finally gave up and let the thought of being “better” rule my life. What I didn’t anticipate was going back down the rabbit hole I just got out of.

Life is CRAZY in my house. Really it is controlled and uncontrolled chaos most of the time. I live in my van it seems, going from one appointment to another, sports with the kids, and just random stuff. My house is falling apart (literally and figuratively), laundry wasn’t getting done, and I just felt overwhelmed. Once again I was making excuses about why I was feeling certain things. Why I just wanted to sleep (because I had a newborn and a two year old who doesn’t sleep), why the house was a mess (because I am so busy), why I wanted to cry all the time or had bursts of anger (because my house was a mess and I was feeling overwhelmed from that perceived lack of help). Now I can look back on all of this and know everything I was going through or at least what I was feeling was because I was depressed, but I couldn’t see it at that time.

I was so lucky to have already planned a trip to Florida with a great friend (who is such a Disney Addict) to visit the Food and Wine Festival at Disney World in October. I don’t think I could have asked for a better reprieve from life than what I got. We slept in, stayed out late, and enjoyed ONE alcoholic drink. I know, I know…. We were at the Food and WINE Festival and we only had one drink. Well I am not a big drinker really and just don’t like the taste of alcohol. But let me tell you what, the French know how to make a drink. I have no idea what it was but it was green, in the form of a frozen push up pop, and delicious. But holy heck they added a lot of alcohol.

 

The trip is what I needed right then but it was not a fix all for what I was going through or feeling at that time. My friend was awesome to let me talk about some of my deep dark thoughts but even then I felt so judged. But how could I not? I mean the thoughts I was having, the feelings I was having were just awful. I knew at that time I needed to get help. I needed to talk to someone and figure out what was wrong with me. Of course I got home and it was right before Halloween, then November, and then off to Christmas so I was once again super busy and making excuses. But I made myself a priority for once. I made an appointment for a complete physical and made sure to bring up what I was feeling. The doctor gave me a new prescription for med and set me up with an appointment for a therapist and sent me on my way (after drawing like 2 liters of blood for every type of test imaginable since it had been so long).

I made sure to take my meds EVERYDAY because I hated how I was feeling. I hated feeling so overwhelmed, down, and like nothing was worth doing. I hated feeling so tired all the time in spite of sleeping ok (you can only get so much sleep with a baby who wakes up a few times each night). I just hated life, not in a suicidal way but just how things were going. But what I hated the most was the feeling like I can’t tell anyone about what was going on. I didn’t feel like I could tell a friend I had Post-Partum Depression and I was having a bad day. I didn’t want the sympathy or the feeling like people needed to help me. Because honestly I didn’t think anyone could help me at that time. It wasn’t like someone coming to the house and doing laundry or the dishes was going to make ME better so why ask for the help. I also finally talked to a therapist about what was going on. We have only had one session (she was sick the second appointment and I was sick another) but I really have a feeling this will help me sort out what is going on in my head. My life and my family is crazy. We have so much going on and I pretty much oversee everything and that is a lot of stress and pressure on my plate. In general I love doing it. I love seeing my family happy but when I am feeling down it becomes hard to handle it all. I don’t want to be that way again. I want to be here for my family, physically, emotionally, and mentally present for everything. I have been on meds for a month now and I can say finally I feel good. I am not tired anymore, I don’t want to sleep, and I feel motivated to do things. I don’t want to stop my meds just yet but I know I will be ok and that this is just a bump in the road.

I mentioned above how I didn’t want to tell anyone what I was going through but it wasn’t just from embarrassment but because I didn’t want others to worry. I am sure this post will come as a surprise to many people because I still have not talked about it to many. When I was younger my Aunt Eileen had a baby girl; my cousin Sammy Jo. I was too young to know what was going on but I knew we would go to my Aunt’s house almost every day. I loved it, I loved playing with cousins in the neighborhood and just having fun but things changed and not for the better. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to my mother crying but I was so young (maybe 8 years old) I just went back to sleep. The next day we were pulled out of school early and told our Aunt had died. Many years later it came out that she lost her battle with Post-Partum Depression. That event set off a lot of hurt in my family that is still trying to mend so many years later. But I didn’t want to worry anyone. I didn’t want people to think I would lose my battle with Post-Partum Depression like my Aunt had. I feel for my Aunt and EVERY WOMAN who has lost the battle. The fight is so hard and even with support it can feel like a losing battle. This is one of the reasons why I chose to share my story. I didn’t want someone to feel they are alone and can’t get through this. It has taken me 7 months but I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. This fight is worth fighting and worth winning for myself and my family.

www.1800ppdmoms.org is a great organization to help you. If you are feeling like you want to harm yourself or someone else please call the suicide prevention hotline at 1 (800) 273-8255 or visit their website www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

I know things will be great from here on out. I know I will have set backs and that is ok. I know I have a great support network, even if I don’t reach out to them.