A Glimpse Into Postpartum Depression – My Story
Postpartum depression is no joke, it is a real issue.
I’ve heard people brush it off like it is some excuse for bad behavior. I suffered greatly with postpartum depression after my fist son was born. It didn’t just take its toll on me, but everyone around me. I hated myself and the way I felt.
At about 3-4 weeks after having Travis I started noticing something was wrong. Being a new mom, figured my feelings were from lack of sleep. The feelings I had, started to get worse and I felt (and was) completely out of control.
I would cry. All. The. Time!
Feeling trapped and all alone with this tiny being who needed me every second of every day and night. I had zero patience with my husband or stepson and often said things I would later regret. Not eating became the new normal but if I happened to eat a little something, I would be rushing to the bathroom because nothing stayed in for long. After one month I lost my pregnancy weight plus 15 lbs and 10 more pounds by my 6 week check up visit. I had no ability to concentrate, a whole new level to “mommy brain.”
I knew something was wrong-
But then I would have a day where there was less crying and flipping out over nothing. Then I would get hope and think, okay, everything is going to fine, but it wasn’t. The following day would be even worse. My husband started calling my best friend to help him understand what was going on and what he could/should be doing. I started calling my OBGYN to explain how I had been feeling and dealing. To my surprise she wasn’t as concerned as I was. Her words “I understand, come to my office if you want to and you can cry with me.” What the F? Well okay if she doesn’t think there is a problem, there must not be. My final straw was one night while changing the baby’s diaper in the middle of the night, he peed all over the new diaper and outfit I had just changed him into. You know, like infants do. I was enraged. Then I threw the diaper cream and it bounced off the wall then hitting Travis in the head. I broke down, like to the floor inconsolable, drowning in my tears and guilt.
Finally, my third phone call to my doctors office was the one that got her attention. Crying/sobbing uncontrollably on her voicemail, come to think of it, she probably couldn’t understand a word I was saying. I was begging her for some kind, any kind, of drugs to make this better. My life sucked, being a wife and mother were the biggest mistakes of my life. It was exactly how I felt and it was devastating!
Today, almost 5 years later, I can still feel that pain, guilt, and I’m pissed that PPD stole that time from me. There are empty months in Travis’ baby book where I just couldn’t find the strength to add to those pages. I can remember these events (and more, many, many more) which I fully, 100%, regret with all of my heart.
Finally, I was able to get pointed in the right direction for help.
My doctor recommended I go to a local hospital which offers an intensive PPD therapy. A program which you attend Monday through Friday for 6 weeks to start from 8am – 4pm. That was the help I needed but found to be way to daunting at the time. I decided to start Zoloft (which I am on still to this day) because I was desperate and needed and wanted all the help I could get.
If you are feeling any or all of the symptoms I described you, there is help.
Scream from the rooftops until someone listens, like I did. You deserve it! Enjoying motherhood is possible. Getting back to felling like yourself again is possible. Loving your baby and yourself is possible. Crying happy tears instead of ones of desperation is possible.
If you feel alone and that no one understands how you are feeling, I DO! I will listen, share more of my stories, and most importantly find you help. Please just reach out. Email me email@example.com. Leave me a message through this website. I get it! I’ve felt what you are feeling and I was able to see the light again and I know you can too.
Here are some pictures of Travis during that time. I thank God everyday that he will never remember how his mommy was acting or feeling. The guilt still plays a part even today. I wish it wasn’t so hard while he was this little and so precious.