When I was pregnant with my first child I was over the moon delighted to find out and excited/nervous about the idea of giving birth. My husband and I had troubles conceiving
as well, and I had miscarried before, so to be this far along and to have a real plan of a baby was just beyond happy.
Like most first time moms, I bought the books (what to expect when you are expecting was a bible!), I read the mommy forums that I had joined (parenthood.com, todaysparent.com
and babycenter.ca) and was listening really hard to all the input from just about everyone (grandmothers, other moms, nurses, dentists, people checking my groceries) about all the ups and downs and joys of raising a new born baby.
I knew of postpartum depression, and how serious it could be (one mommy blogger admitted herself into a mental health facility it was so serious) and I made a conscious effort
to read all about it and its symptoms because it was another fear to watch out for. There were celebrities that had postpartum and wrote about their struggles, there were women posting on forums, there were articles all over the place. And I don’t know what
it was (or wasn’t) that was happening… but somewhere in the back of my head I must have thought – that won’t happen to me because I knew what to look for, and had battled my end (somewhat)with a miscarriage – and just continued reading along and sympathetically
commenting then going on my way.
My daughter’s birth was not to my birthing plan whatsoever. She was due August 10th, and by September 1st I was going in to be induced. By September 2nd
my water broke and I was in at around 6cm dilated. And then by 11:30pm Sept 3rd I was passing out, heart rate through the roof and then dropped to nothing along with my daughters – and she was born via c-section September 4th at 12:35am.
To even think back at that, I have no idea how we even made it through, but we did and she was perfect! As soon as she was born, she pinked up right away and was 100% fine.
She was such a good baby too, she didn’t cry very much at all – always happy and smiles. She wasn’t sick, not colicky, and slept a solid 7 hours through the night. I was often
told how lucky I was, and that I must have paid the price with that hard labor to have a perfect baby.
I was breastfeeding as well, and by the second month I was having so many issues. Mastitis had set in and my milk wasn’t enough (it seemed) to sustain my daughter. She was constantly
hungry and I think between the pain and the gentle nudging of a few family members I decided to give her formula to supplement the breastfeeding. She reacted super well to it as well, and didn’t go totally onto the bottle right away, but about a month later
she was off of me and on the bottle full time.
I am not sure if that was what cinched it in my brain… but for the first time in a long time I found myself crying on the floor wishing I could give her away or that I would just
die and then my baby could have a real mother. One who wasn’t stressed all through pregnancy and enjoyed it. One who could birth her and not put her in danger. One who could sustain her once she was here. One that could be a proper mother.
As I sat there thinking all of these things, my daughter was gleefully playing in her playpen across the room, and it was as though her laughter was not the beautiful sound all
mothers want to hear… it was the proof that as long as I wasn’t around her she was fine. I’m not sure how long I sat there; tear stained cheeks staring off at her in her playpen, staring through it like a dream. I have no idea what it was in that moment, but
it was like all the red flags that I had read about came to the front of my mind in one big ringing alarm – You need to call someone, and you need help – NOW.
I picked up the phone, but I wasn’t sure who to call. I definitely didn’t want to call public health; they would take my baby away and lock me up for sure… I didn’t want to tell
my husband, he would then know how terrible a mother I really was… I didn’t want to tell my mom; that would be the biggest slap in the face… I was totally stunned and didn’t know what to do. I was paralyzed and couldn’t think, couldn’t see any way to get help
or to ask for it… so I put the phone down, told myself to stop acting crazy, and to get on with life already.
And that is what I did… for three weeks. Three weeks of little mental snaps, like when my daughter would cry and it seemed when I passed her to dad she would calm down. Or when
I would make an appointment for her I was late and had to meet the scorn of the front desk lady. Or that I very seldom got out of my pj’s and when I was asked I felt totally offended and was highly defensive. I wouldn’t talk to anyone, distancing myself from
my husband and my mother the most. I would keep everything very casual and business as usual, and anything else that was questioned got a snap reaction of – I’m tired! I had a baby!
After the third week of this, I was sitting in a lobby waiting for another doctor’s appointment and there was this nice elderly lady there cooing at my daughter (very normal,
she was so cute, and the elderly are so kind). The lady turned to me and asked “when did you have your baby?” and I stared pretty icily and replied “I didn’t have her. They carved her out on September 4th”. The look of shock that lady gave me –
I will never forget it. And then something else happened that I will never forget, she put her soft pale hand on mine and said “Don’t be so hard on yourself, It doesn’t matter how she came to be dear, it matters if you love her with all that you are. You are
a good mom, I can tell.”, then smiled and got up to meet her husband who was coming out of the office.
I sat there, still as a board, tears and confusion, and the lady at the front desk (who never really judged me at all, she was very sweet) came over and ushered me and my daughter
into one of the rooms and got my doctor straight away. From there I unloaded all of what I had been feeling, and he was so great and so comforting in that moment. He referred me to an outstanding local support group as well as a family therapist who came to
me that day at the doctor’s office (along with my husband, who dropped everything at work in a shot as soon as he was called).
I did get the help that I needed in the support group, and there were a lot more options and avenues to go down if I needed it as well. I learned a lot in my group from other moms who had c-sections and also felt a disconnect that they couldn’t explain, and though there wasn’t another mom there with mastitis there was an openness in the group where I could share that and not be judged for it.
It shocked me at the time that I could fall prey to postpartum. I mean, I read all the books the web pages, I knew people who went through it, and I had been through depression before and totally knew all the triggers. I knew how to battle this before it even started! So how could I possibly fall victim to something like this? And really, it was that stigma in my own mind, that I knew better and only someone stupid wouldn’t see it coming with all that I knew, that is what made it so easy to fall into and so hard to seek help.
It took me a few weeks to bounce back, but I was very fortunate. Nothing truly bad had happened, other than I missed out on enjoying my baby at that time, and she was not neglected nor was my relationship with my husband hurt. I was fortunate that most of my depression was internalized and didn’t manifest to other areas. I count my lucky stars every day that I look back, that this time period didn’t cause too much harm, and that I was able to pull out of it pretty swiftly once I had the resources that I needed.
I have been asked a few times what advice I would give to other moms out there and really I only have two things (and it covers everything lol)… allow yourself the right to change your mind a million times over about everything and don’t be afraid to ask anyone for any kind of help. I don’t know how to explain that the simplest of thoughts can be the introduction depression needs to work its way in. And once it’s in, how hard it can be to acknowledge it for what it is and to tell to someone else (because it feels like you are admitting to something sinful rather than asking for a helping hand with something that is normal.).
You want to enjoy your children. You want to be a good parent. These are the things that are important, and no one doubts you on that. Trust me.
This story comes from a dear friend of mine and her experience with Postpartum Depression. Thankfully Rhonda didn't suffer from Postpartum after giving birth to our daughter, but I do realize that this is very common. It's also very common for mother's to keep quiet and never breathe a word about their thoughts and feelings, for fear of what others will think. I feel it's very important to talk about Postpartum to let people know they are not alone and that it's extremely important to talk to someone. In this case, everything turned out fine. But often times, it's not fine.
If you feel you may be suffering from Postpartum Depression or simply need someone to talk to, please reach out to your spouse, a family member, friend, health nurse or your doctor. You can also contact Perinatal Mood Disorder Awareness Ltd at http://www.ppda.ca/. They have many resources to help everyone, including you!
You are not alone.
(((I'd like to send a huge THANK YOU to my friend Michelene for sharing her story.)))
If you would like to share your story, please contact me at crystaldyck@gmail.com.
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