I’m sitting here in my car, baby napping, reading other mommy blogs, wondering what I’m doing with my blog and if anyone will ever read it. As I am researching the internet I come across all sorts of stories but today the one the caught my attention was about a mom who lost her 6-year-old son to cancer. I can’t even begin to fathom the heartbreak, grief, and sorrow that accompanies a loss like that one. And the fact of the matter is, tragedy can strike at any minute. One phone call and your entire world changes. As the reality set in that anything can happen at anytime, another reality hit me hard. Life is too short to worry about the 50 toys thrown around my living room, about the dirty dishes in the sink, about the crumbs underneath the high chair. Life is too short to worry about what the lady in the check out line behind me is thinking as my son is screaming because he doesn’t want to leave the store without his pack of gum, although at 1 years old, he has no idea what a pack of gum is, he just knows that it is colorful and he wants it! Life is too short to worry about the fact that my 2-year-old already wants to pick out his own outfits and half, ok-let’s be serious, all the time, it doesn’t match yet he will kick and scream until he has his own way. Instead of complaining to my friends, how tired I am all the time, maybe I will start sharing how blessed I am instead. Maybe I will share how lucky I am to have a little boy who thinks I am his whole world, and who definitely is my whole world. Maybe I will stop constantly pick up the mess, and instead, start making the mess as I play crazy games with my toddler. Maybe I will just stop trying so hard, and start simply enjoying the moments I have with my precious boy. Moments that go by all too quickly, and moments that could change at any given moment. Here’s to enjoying the mess and enjoying life! xoxo
I am writing this post to explain the events that led to my diagnosis of postpartum depression. I write this with the hopes that someone reading this may relate to it, know they are not alone, and realize they need to seek to help as well.
I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t crying all the time. I didn’t want to hide from the world. I didn’t feel depressed. I was tired. I was sooo tired.
About two months after Owen was born, I suddenly couldn’t sleep. I had never had sleeping problems before. I loved sleep (to be honest– I still do!) Something was happening. The first night I couldn’t sleep I chalked it up the fact that my 2-month old was finally semi-sleeping through the night and my body was just trying to adjust. The second night I lay awake wondering why I wasn’t sleeping. By the third night, I was exhausted I fell right to sleep, only to wake up 2 hours later. I was up for the rest of the night. Each night for the next week I would fall asleep for 2-3 hours, only be awake for the next 5 hours, and maybe fall asleep for another hour or so. Remember– this is all in between feedings of my then 2-month old son.
Over the next two weeks, I googled insomnia. I googled insomnia remedies. I tried relaxation techniques, yoga, herbal remedies, essential oils, prescription medicines. I tried prayer–oh how I prayed for sleep. By this point, I was a self-proclaimed insomnia ‘expert.’ I was so exhausted, I just wanted to disappear. I knew it was time for help.
I called my Ob/Gyn to see what she thought could be contributing to this sudden onset of insomnia. The nurse was extremely pleasant and explained sometimes postpartum hormones can wreck havoc on your body and made me an appointment to be seen. To say my doctor was less than helpful would be the understatement of the decade. Basically, summing it up she told me to take Tylenol PM with a glass of wine and go to bed. She never mentioned postpartum depression, or that one of the early signs of postpartum depression are sleep disturbances–while some people sleep the days away, some can’t sleep at all.
After a month of on and off sleeping I was convinced my body was physically incapable of sleeping through the night. There is nothing worse than laying awake while your baby and husband are sound asleep, counting down the hours to when you have to be awake and responsible for taking care of an infant. My husband was extremely supportive but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t make me sleep!
Out of sheer exhaustion, I felt like things were becoming distant. I was going through the motions, putting on a smile, but I felt like I was seeing everything from afar. My sister recognized something was wrong and told me I needed to see another doctor because I wasn’t acting myself. She was worried and brought up postpartum depression. I shrugged her off though because I wasn’t sad, I didn’t think I was depressed, I just needed to sleep.
I called back my OB and was basically told there was nothing they could do for me, but gave me the name of a psychiatrist who had awful reviews online. I was not about to call someone who I already had no confidence in. Ok, let’s take a time out here to point out the obvious. Here was a patient who clearly needed help and was showing and explaining clear signs of postpartum depression to their Ob/Gyn and they did NOTHING. An Ob/Gyn should be the first line of support for a new mother struggling with any sort of perinatal disorder. This country needs to do a better job educating these doctors in addressing the needs of their postpartum patients.
After my OB was no help, I made an appointment with my GP who prescribed me Ambien. Again, no mention of the term postpartum depression. This was now doctor #2 who blatantly overlooked serious signs. That was a very short-term fixed that did not last long. I just wanted to enjoy this precious special time with my baby, instead of being physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted.
I was at a complete loss. I wanted help, knew I needed help, but did not know where to turn. My mother, finally realizing at this point that I needed help, reached out to her network of friends. In the meantime, we prayed together asking the Lord for guidance and direction and for help finding someone who could help me. On what seemed like a fluke, although looking back I believe it was divine intervention, I got an appointment with a psychiatrist. After our first meeting I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and was my road to recovery.
If this sounds anything like your story, I urge you to reach out and don’t give up. Find a good psychiatrist and/or therapist, ideally one that specializes in perinatal disorders. If you need to, please contact me and I will try to help connect you to local resources. You will get better. You don’t have to continue feeling this way. You will enjoy your life and your baby again. You will sleep.
3 months postpartum diary entry. Motherhood is hard. Understatement of the year! It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done and gone through. I had a great pregnancy, however, they say there are really four “trimesters” and the fourth one kicked my ass!
My labor was a disaster I started having contractions four days before my beautiful boy came into this world. I was in active labor for 19 hours, 14 hours without an epidural. I hired a doula because I really didn’t want to have a c-section. Ultimately other plans had been made. After 19 hours it was determined that my baby was not coming out naturally and an emergency c-section took place. It was the strangest feeling knowing that things were completely out of my control and in the hands of the doctors. I couldn’t even see my baby for about five minutes after he was delivered. I heard his cry and knew he existed. But the time between hearing his cry and when I finally had him in my arms seemed like an eternity. It was so surreal to hear people saying “oh, he’s beautiful” about my child who I hadn’t even seen yet. I really did not like that feeling.
To make matters worse, I was completely exhausted. When were moved to the maternity ward, we did not have a good nurse. It felt like we were thrown to the wolves with a new baby in tow. Our nurse didn’t even give us our handbook or explain how things worked. She apparently had better things on her mind, given that her shift was ending in thirty minutes. That she did tell us.
I had taken breastfeeding classes and read the books and watched the videos. You would think that should have prepared me a little bit. Yeah, right! I might as well have watched Breastfeeding 101 with my eyes closed and earphones on. That’s about as much as I knew when it came down to it. The night nurses didn’t offer to show me/teach me. I had to wait till the next day when the lactation nurses were in! And this was supposed to be a good hospital! I think I was there on the wrong day. It was St. Patty’s day— looking back they all probably were off to party and drink green beer!
Summing up my delivery experience I would say that it could have been a lot worse, but it also could have been a lot better. Emotionally, it set me up on a difficult course. One that eventually would take me to my lowest lows and my highest highs. A course that would lead me to self discovery, spiritual awakening, and the greatest love I could ever imagine. I discovered the love a mother has for a child. And I discovered the love of the Father. The ultimate, unending, unconditional love of our Lord and Savior and His desire to always help us get up.
I decided to start this website because adult-ing is really hard, and being ‘mom’ is even harder. I felt the need to create a space where we can all come together to share and relate to one another through the ups and downs, the joys and sorrows, the triumphs and the challenges.
I suffered through postpartum depression after the birth of my first son and I wish I had a place to go and know that I wasn’t alone. I discovered that as many as 1 in 7 moms (and that is just diagnosed cases) suffer a period of postpartum depression after childbirth. That’s a lot of moms! Knowing that we are not alone in our struggles is such a relief. I wanted to create a space where I could share my experiences with others, with the slight chance, that maybe I could help someone in the same situation. I am happy to say I am fully recovered and now I want to share my story with you. A story full of self discovery, spiritual awakening, and the greatest love I could ever imagine. I discovered the love a mother has for a child. And I discovered the love of the Father. The ultimate, unending, unconditional love of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and His desire to always help us get up.
“For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper, not to harm, to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11.
Here’s to our wonderful futures!