Well here we go. This is not a story I have shared with many because it’s something that unfortunately makes a lot of moms feel very shameful. Something that is extremely common, but still severely underreported due to the lack of societal knowledge on the topic. I’m gonna say it…the big bad words…postpartum depression.
I very intensely and silently struggled with postpartum depression after my little Axe man was born. I will preface this whole post by saying that Axel is literally the love of my life…I never knew the love I feel for him was possible on planet earth. None of my experience with postpartum depression ever involved negative feelings towards him; that is not how it manifested with me and I am so grateful for that. He has and always will be the perfect angel that made me a mama.
Now that that's said, here we go.
I have wanted to write this blog post for a very long time, but did not know how. The whole story is so much more complicated than a blog post can accurately convey. Plus, I have spent the past 2+ years trying my absolute hardest to hide what I went through. Why you might ask? Unfortunately, society still does not have a proper understanding and method for dealing with postpartum depression. On the one hand, the medical profession does not seem to have standards in place for proper screenings at varying intervals to monitor the possibility. On the other hand, social media makes it nearly impossible to feel comfortable admitting to the struggle. With mama influencers filling your feed with their perfectly dressed children and effortless style, it makes it seem like you must be the only one who’s like “wtf just happened to my life.” Intellectually, I knew that those perfect pictures I scrolled through in my feed were highly curated, but thinking with logic and reason is not usually something applied right after you have given birth. Wow...got off track there for a hot second. Circling back. The world does not make it easy to admit you are having a hard time with #momlife. It’s getting better now that people are becoming more aware, but we are still seriously lagging in this department.
What do I want to accomplish in this blog post? I want to share how I felt in the weeks following Axel’s birth, how I got through postpartum depression and how I prevented it from happening when Beck was born. The full story is for another day. This post here is to narrow in on my experience and hopefully encourage mamas currently experiencing this to seek help as soon as possible…and to feel a little less alone.
The abbreviated backstory:
Axel was born 6 weeks premature. Because of that, we had a 9 day NICU stint directly following his birth. In those 9 days I very quickly became severely sleep deprived. Not only was I recovering from major abdominal surgery, but my precious little boy was hooked up to all kinds of freaky wires in an incubator where he had to stay for about 85% of the day. The doctors explained that he was using too much energy to keep his body temps up outside of the incubator, so holding my new baby whenever I wanted was not an option. Despite being surrounded by incredible NICU nurses and doctors, I felt the need to have a hand in every single thing. I only left the NICU for 3-4 hours in a 24 hour period. I would go home around midnight each day, shower, change, take a short rest and then head back around 4:00am. Every second I was away from Axel literally hurt my bones. It was the most unnatural feeling separating from my baby who up until that point was in my body.
This whole schedule I had going added up to an average of about 2 hours of sleep a night. Let me remind you that a warfare tactic used to get information out of captive soldiers is sleep deprivation…it is a literal form of torture. Add extreme sleep deprivation with the stress of a traumatic birth and post delivery hormone plummet and you’ve got yourself the perfect storm. Cue the beginning of the nightmare.
It was during this NICU time that I started to notice feeling “weird.” The feeling was something hard to describe in words so I just wrote it off as sleep deprivation combined with all the post-baby related hormonal shifts. My hope was that once we were home the way it was supposed to be, things would be ok and this weird feeling would subside. Wrong. So so very wrong.
It was when we got home that all hell broke loose. If it were even physically possible I was getting less sleep at home than I did when Axe was in the NICU. I was so terrified that he would stop breathing in the middle of the night … or learn to rollover and smother himself … or that I wouldn’t hear him cry for me, that I literally sat up at night and just stared at him. That in conjunction with feedings every two hours, followed by pumping, then cleaning the pump parts was a horrendous combination. Unfortunately, that’s not all that was going on. In the midst of this disaster site that was my home, my husband and I [like many couples during this new transition] were not seeing eye to eye. Our communication was atrocious and as a result I felt very unsupported.
Let me break here to say that I adore my husband beyond words. He is an incredible partner and even better dad to our boys, but boy oh boy was our marriage tested in the weeks following Axel’s birth. There were times when I honestly was not sure if we could recover. Update: hubby is still living so obvs we worked it out.
With everything in my life slowly erupting, this ideal image I had about how our life would be with our new baby boy was rapidly going up in flames. That “weird” feeling I was experiencing in the NICU skyrocketed. To this day it’s hard to explain how it felt, but if I had to put a word to it I would compare it with how one feels when they are homesick; that feeling in the pit of your stomach that seems as though it will be there forever.
During the daytime hours I had better control over my mood. I literally spent the entire day outside in the sun walking for hours with Axel. My theory here was that the sunlight and being surrounded by people would make me feel less alone in the anxiety riddled world that was my head. My day plan worked; I felt better as long as I was outside in the world with my baby and my mama. Nighttime was another story. There is a reason people say “it’s always darkest before the dawn.” I dreaded nighttime…absolutely dreaded it. When the sun would start going down I would go into panic mode.
“how many times will Axel wake up tonight?”
“when will I get to sleep?”
“how long will I get to sleep for?”
“what if I don’t hear him crying?”
“what if I oversleep and then miss a pumping time”
These were just some of the thoughts that would start racing through my mind…over and over and over again.
This cycle went on for about 3 weeks…that’s when I reached a breaking point and knew this could not just be how it is after a baby is born…something had to be wrong. I called my OBGYN office and pretended I thought I had an incision infection and needed an appointment. I was so ashamed with how I felt that I could not bring myself to tell the very nice receptionist that I needed to see the doctor because I thought I had a perinatal mood/anxiety disorder.
Making an appointment was the smartest decision I had made since becoming a mom. After I took this step things got better. My OB is literally an angel on earth…I owe her my complete recovery. The medication route was not for me and she respected that. Not that there is anything wrong with those who choose that path, it was just not what worked for me. This is a breakdown of how I bounced back:
I found my voice again
If you know me, you know I am no shrinking violet. I speak my mind and my opinions. However, after Axe was born, in the newborn blackout, I became someone that was not myself and took on a shrinking violet persona. I did not demand my needs. I let things just happen around me. As soon as I took back the reigns of my life, I told my husband what it was that I needed. What I needed was my mom. I needed her to be around all the time regardless of what anybody thought about that. It didn’t mean that I didn’t need my husband, it just meant I needed my mom more.
Mindset reframe
It doesn't make you a bad mom or a failure of a mom when you’re struggling. It’s actually quite the opposite. It shows a great deal of strength to admit that you are having a hard time and take steps to solve the issue. Sitting in the problem solves nothing and will only be to mama and baby’s detriment. Changing the way I interpreted the situation was where the real breakthrough was.
Spending time outside in the world
After Axel’s morning feeding I would put him in his stroller or carrier and hit the pavement. I literally walked miles and miles and only stopped home to feed and change him. This was also a major part of getting myself back on track. The fresh air and exercise while bonding with my baby was just the medicine I needed. Sitting in the house all day can quickly start to feel like prison…so even if you “don’t feel like it,” do it. Get out of the house.
Knowing you are not alone
You are not the first person on this planet to feel the way you do and you will certainly not be the last. Regardless of how isolated and discouraged you may feel, you are not alone. I’m going to say that one more time for the people in the back: YOU ARE NOT ALONE
It probably took a total of about 3-4 months for me to really consider myself over the hump. With the support of my mom, husband and doctor…we got through it. The biggest tip I can give to any mom feeling this way after baby is to reach out to someone…anyone. Tell another human being how you are feeling. That is the first step towards getting yourself back. Being in tune with your body and developing a strong self-awareness will not only help you dig yourself out of the perinatal mood/anxiety disorder hole, but will help you prevent it from recurring after future births. I implemented all the above steps after Beck was born and am so thrilled to be able to say I experienced no symptoms this time around.
Mamas…if you are feeling any of these feels and need someone to reach out to, I got your back. As cliche as it sounds, it truly does take a village. We were not meant to do this alone. I don't care how independent, strong and competent you are. Knowing you need backup is not a sign of being weak...it's a sign of being strong. Use your village.
Photo below taken in NICU when Axel was 6 days old.
Commentaires