A common misconception about postpartum depression

A couple of weeks ago I was asked if Alex and I are planning on having more children. My response was that Alex and I are not even planning on discussing that topic until he is done with school in a few years. The follow-up question I got was "didn't you have a rough pregnancy or delivery or something", to which I replied "Nope, the pregnancy and delivery were easy, but I did end up with postpartum depression", to which the gentleman replied was "oh yeah, but that's no big deal, right?"

Actually, sir, it was a very big deal, not only for me, but for the entire network of people that I had surrounding me during that time. That one little comment, no matter what context it was meant to be taken in, reminded me just how ignorant a lot of people are who have never experienced postpartum depression (PPD) can be.  Mind you, I do not blame these people, as it can be very difficult to understand mental illnesses, but even if there may not be abnormal blood tests or high fevers, it is an illness none-the-less.  I can never put into words exactly how grateful I am that God blessed me with a support team who acknowledged that something was wrong and tried to do whatever they could to help me get through this period of time. Through my experience I have read countless stories of women suffering needlessly with this disease because they themselves, or those around them, chalk up their symptoms to temporary moodiness due to hormonal imbalances post-delivery. In most cases that is exactly what it is (also known as "the baby blues), however almost 20% of women end up with PPD, and if left untreated it can lead to months of despair, turmoil, and agony.  It is for this reason that I am going to share my story for those of you who may not know, in hopes that it educates anyone who has not had exposure to this to recognize symptoms in themselves or others so that treatment can be sought after immediately. 

Hunter was born on Saturday August 27. The entire pregnancy was surprisingly easy, and the delivery was not as bad as I was expecting. We spent all day Saturday and Sunday falling in love with our little glow warm.  On Monday we were scheduled to be discharged. While the nurse was off getting all the necessary paperwork I had realized that it had been a while since I had eaten, and I suddenly became nauseous, the over-hungry kind of nauseous. When Alex ran off to the cafeteria to get me something to eat I was sitting in a chair on one side of the room while Hunter was asleep in his bassinet on the other side of the room. Within minutes after Alex left the room Hunter started crying for his meal. I knew I had to go over to pick him up and feed him (at this point I was still planning on breastfeeding), but when I thought about doing it I had the overwhelming feeling that he would be sucking out the little bit of fuel and energy that I had left and I started to shake uncontrollably. The nurse was back in the room a couple minutes after the shaking started and I explained to her that I wasn't feeling well. When she saw the shakiness and my pale face she called some other staff in to help get me situated and to analyze what was going on. By the time Alex got back to the room I was surrounded by white uniforms....there was a nurse taking my vitals, a nurse drawing blood, a nurse helping me breastfeed, a nurse gathering food/drink, a nurse setting up an IV. Long story long, all test results came back negative, so it was more than likely exhaustion and lack of food that brought me to that state. The doctor had me stay an extra night and kept me hooked up to an IV and put Hunter in the nursery for the night.

We were able to leave the next day (Tuesday), I felt better, but still not great. Our town had been hit by Hurricane Irene the day after Hunter was born and we had no power in our house so we drove down to my dad's house where we had lights and running water. As the day went on, I started feeling worse and worse, and I ended up getting shaky again. I tried taking a long shower (the first none hospital shower in days) and my dad cooked a delicious meal of grilled steak and veggies which I nibbled at, and I started to relax again. Dad was kind enough to offer to watch Hunter for part of the night shift in hopes that Alex and I could get some rest in between feedings, which were averaging about 2 hours between each one,  I had trouble falling asleep, even though I was beyond utterly exhausted, because I knew that Hunter would be needing me soon, so I spent those 2 hours tossing and turning until I was told Hunter was ready to eat.  By early Wednesday morning the shakes started again. I told Alex that I thought it might be anxiety from the pressure of being the sole provider for feeding Hunter. We had planned on breast-feeding so we were unprepared for formula-feeding, so Alex took a trip to CVS to get everything he thought we would need for the next time Hunter got hungry.  Within the next hour we gave Hunter his first formula bottle. He seemed to take to it fine and had no adverse reactions to it. I was instructed to go into the quietest corner room of the house and to sleep for as long as I needed to now that we had alternate means of feeding Hunter. However, not long after I laid down to rest I started shaking again. I thought I heard Hunter crying, even when I knew he was fast asleep...the phantom cries kept me awake.  I tried listening to my ipod to tune out the world, but that even help me escape. Eventually Hunter did wake up and did start crying and the first thoughts that entered my mind were "God please just let somebody take him, please make him stop crying".  Almost instantly I thought it was strange that I didn't feel the urge to go get him, to tend to his needs...after all, wasn't this whole motherhood thing supposed to feel natural. I began to feel nauseous again and I started shaking even more uncontrollably. Within minutes Hunter was fine (he only needed a snack, after that he was happy again), but my nauseousness and shakiness stayed.  There was something that just didn't feel right, so I asked Alex if could call the doctor. This was on the 5th day after Hunter was born and I seemed to be getting worse, not better. Luckily, the doctor who was on duty and delivered Hunter was still in the office. When she heard what was going on she told us to go see her as soon as possible. We had called the office 15 minutes before she was supposed to be off-duty, but she said she was going to stay until we got there. We left Hunter with my dad and Margaret and the second we started driving away from the house I felt better.  When we got into the doctor's office and she asked me what was going on, I broke down into sobs and told her about all of my physical ailments on top of which I didn't want to take care of my son. That is when I got my first crash course in postpartum depression.

There is so much that happened in the next few months following this initial appointment: several doctor's appointments, lots of prescription drugs, days of sobbing and begging Alex to take Hunter and leave me for someone who could take care of them, days where I would have to be coaxed into getting out of bed, days where I would have to persuaded to take a shower, days where I would feel like I was in a dark pit of despair that I would never be able to climb out of, days where I would plan and map out ways of running away, moments of jealousy while watching everyone else goo and gaa at the baby that I didn't want to touch, everyday convincing myself to eat through the nausea, visits from family members who wanted to lift my spirits.  Everyday I had to work myself up to be able to hold my baby, merely being in the room with him was enough to make me feel physically ill in the mornings, but I was usually able to build the strength up to be able to give him his evening bottle and if I was lucky I could rock him to sleep.  My angel of a mother-in-law moved in with us for over 2 months to help Alex with the nights until I was able to handle it, and during the day, not only did she take care of Hunter, but she helped nurse me back to health too. For the first 2 months of Hunter's life, I could not be left alone with him, so there were times when people would have to come babysit him and me when Alex and Glenni couldn't be around. The one thing I am grateful for is that I never had thoughts of hurting Hunter or myself (there are horrible stories of mothers who have visualized killing their own babies) and that I never felt a hatred of him (as some other mothers have experienced). I just couldn't be around him without feeling anxious and sick.  The brunt of all of this was in September, and it eased off a bit in October, by November I was able to be on my own with him. Sporadic anxiety attacks still came for months after, but for the most part I would say by November I was able to start building my relationship with my baby boy.

I could go on and on with all of the nitty-gritty details of my experience with PPD, but hopefully this gives you the gist of it. Everyone woman experiences different symptoms, and every woman copes and heals in her own way. I was lucky enough to have the physical symptoms that brought me to the doctor's quick enough to start treatment right away.  With the help of my family taking care of my son, my house, my husband, and myself I was able to climb out of it pretty quickly, or at least that is what I have been told by my doctor's. The one thing that I really would like to get across with all of this is that women who go through this tend to feel alone, like nobody understands, like it will never end.  That is why when the comment about it not being a "big deal" inspired me to tell my story, because the swift success comes from my family treating it like it was a very big deal.  Women who go through this are sick, and should be treated as such, they need time to recoup their bodies and minds and the last thing they need to hear is "get-over-it".  And if anyone out there listening is experiencing this, trust me, the tunnel seems dark right now, but eventually you will turn a corner and see the light at the end; and then you and that little bundle of joy will be able to become the best friends that you were meant to be. 

My Best Friend Part Two

ps....here is a helpful link for anyone who is interested in learning more
http://www.womenshealth.gov/publications/our-publications/fact-sheet/depression-pregnancy.cfm