My Postpartum Depression Story: There is Hope & Healing

Before Ewan was born I was really fearful that I wouldn’t love him. You read and hear Moms say what a magical experience it was meeting their baby for the first time. I heard one mom say in a YouTube video, “You know that high you get after giving birth?” But, it’s not like that for all of us. For many of us. Those mommas tend to suffer in silence because of the perfect picture of giving birth and motherhood that has been painted for us. Moms-to-be aren’t made aware of Perinatal Mood and Anxiety Disorders, which is crazy because they are the most common complication of childbirth! I believe if Moms were aware of a simple rundown of symptoms, given resources, and people were more encouraging about getting help there wouldn’t be so many Moms (and Dads) suffering alone. I know that nobody wants to scare new Moms, but it is so very important that they are educated on postpartum depression, anxiety, OCD, psychosis, post traumatic stress disorder, and baby blues. It may save their life and let them know they aren’t alone in their thoughts and feelings.

 

I’ve heard some people don’t remember much from when their child was a newborn because of the exhaustion, my husband being one of them. I, on the other hand, remember pretty much everything. Ewan was born on December 10, 2017. I remember my doctor putting him on my chest, but it didn’t take long before my mood started to change. I’m talking minutes. I didn’t feel what I thought a mother should feel after they gave birth. I didn’t have an overwhelming happiness or sense of love. Whenever I look back at the pictures my doctor took of us right after Ewan was born I just see an empty person and wish I could redo it all. My delivery was pretty smooth. I was induced at 9am, had my water broken, and started pushing at 9pm. Ewan was born at 11:47pm after pushing for almost 3 hours Needless to say, I was exhausted from all the pushing. I had trouble breast feeding right from the start and didn’t really have help until I changed rooms. After they took Ewan to get checked out the nurse asked if I was OK and seemed worried. She asked if I wanted to talk to the charge nurse, but I declined. I just kept telling her that I was really tired and was already starting to hurt from the epidural wearing off. I had no idea what I was experiencing was the the start of PPD. If I let myself, I can still get upset that my nurse, who seemed really concerned, didn’t take more action. Trouble with breastfeeding continued after changing rooms and the lactation consultent wasn’t much help. When I broke down crying in front of her she just said, “It’s OK to cry, I cried for 3 months straight.” What?!? That’s NOT normal!!

 

When we got home I wasn’t bonding with Ewan, I still struggled with breastfeeding and resorted to pumping, which consumed more time. I didn’t know when he was hungry or tired or if I was feeding him enough or too little. I was still pretty sore and was on pain medicine that made me sleepy on top of already being exhausted from taking care of a newborn. Sleep schedules COMPLETELY stressed me out. I was so bent out of shape trying to do the Baby Wise method. (My biggest advice: STAY OFF GOOGLE!) I felt like a complete failure. I thought that every other Mom knew how to take care of their baby and I didn’t. It felt like my life was completely ruined and was going to be this absolutely miserable forever. I was trapped with no way out and I wished for my old life back. I wished that we never had Ewan and thought about giving him away.  At Ewan’s first doctor appointment my husband jokingly said, “We aren’t going to give him away, right?” But in the back of my mind I was shouting, “YES!”  It was a struggle to just get through the day. I started to wonder if Beau would be able to raise Ewan if I wasn’t alive anymore.  I felt like I was in a twilight zone and there was this fog around me. I wasn’t living my life. I still vivedly remember sitting on our bed crying thinking that I just couldn’t go on anymore. I didn’t know how to live anymore. Eating, taking a shower, getting out of the house seemed completely impossible. There were days that changing Ewan’s diaper was so incredibly hard for me to do.

 

I decided to make an appointment at the Lactation Foundation to help with breastfeeding and part of my paperwork was filling out an EDPS questionnaire (Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale). At the time I had no idea what it was. At the end of my appointment the consultant said that I needed to call my OB/GYN with my score. I called and they scheduled me for an appointment ASAP. My husband and I sat down in my doctor’s office with my nurse to talk. She hugged me and said, “You’re a mom!” It honestly didn’t mean anything to me. I don’t remember exactly everything we talked about, but I do remember both my husband and I crying. I was prescriped medication and had several more appointments until I went back to work. My husband took over night time feedings so I could get sleep until he went back to work. I was taking things one feeding at a time during the day just trying to make it to night time. I was living for bedtime. 

 

I remember sitting on my bed when my step-mom, a Licensed Chemical Dependency Counselor, asked if I was ready to get help. She sent me contact information of a therapist before, but I hadn’t taken action on it yet. I was finally ready and sent an e-mail. I am forever grateful for my therapist, Kim, at The Center for Postpartum Family Health for helping me get through the darkest days of my life. We worked on things like telling Ewan that I loved him, giving him a kiss, eating, getting sleep, and working through the guilt of not breastfeeding.

 

I finally made an appointment with a psychiatrist that specializes in reproductive psychiatry. In addition to making sure I was on the proper medication and dose, and that I had a treatment plan, she also prescribed me something to help me sleep because I was having trouble getting to sleep and staying asleep when I did have the opportunity. 

 

When Beau went back to work the second week of January I took over night time feeding, but I would take a nap when he got home before he went to bed. I couldn’t get Ewan to nap more than a couple minutes at a time. I didn’t know what the 4th trimester was and didn’t want to hold Ewan while he napped. I was so frustrated and exhausted during the day. Nighttime was a nightmare because it took Ewan an hour to finish a bottle and get back to sleep only to be up an hour later. (We later learned he had an upper lip tie that we had fixed.) We also believed Ewan had acid reflux and until we figured out the right formula to put him on, he constantly cried. There were times I had to call Beau at work and tell him he had to come home right then, I couldn’t take it anymore. The Monday before I went back to work, about mid-February, I called Beau to come home and sobbed harder than I ever had before. I told my head director that I didn’t think I was going to TMEA convention (Texas Music Educators Association) because I was still really struggling. I went to bed as soon as Beau got home before taking over the night time feedings. The next day it was like a switch flipped and the fog had lifted. I didn’t realize how completely awful I felt until I felt better. PPD can happen and you don’t even realize it! It just creeps up on you.  In April I started to exercise and for the first time I didn’t just feel normal, I was happy.  It wasn’t until the end of April did I feel 100% myself again. I cooked and went grocery shopping with Ewan for trhe first time! Those may seem like normal things, but it was a MAJOR accomplishment for me.

 

I am a postpartum depression survivor thanks to medication, therapy, and a support system of my family and friends. I have gotten past feeling like a crazy person for being on medication and seeing a therapist and psychiatrist. I was incredibly blessed that we caught mine early and by the time I went back to work the fog had lifted.

 

Thank you to all my family who supported Beau and me. My Mom stayed with us for two weeks. Krista, her Mom, and baby came to visit for 4 days. Y’all, they packed everything up and drove from San Antonio to help me in my time of need. Krista put up (and still does!) with all my ridiculous questions.  My Mother-in-law babysat Ewan countless times while I went to therapy, got some rest, and also did night shifts every so often. Our neighbor across the street watched Ewan when I went to appointments.  My brother gave me pep talks.  My sister-in-law was/is my cheerleader. Elisabeth called me EVERYDAY. Cara sent me text messages to see how I was doing.  Dawn had lunch with me at TMEA and watched me tear up when I said I didn’t know when Ewan was hungry. Jane gave me a hug when I started to cry in the middle of the convention floor at TMEA. Mariah and her Mom were so encouraging when I told them what was going on. I relied on my Mom and Dad’s powerful prayers. My Dad and step-Mom brought food over and babysat Ewan while I went to therapy. They never stopped telling me how proud they were when I got help. Even Paige, who had her daughter the day after Ewan was born, checked in on me. My co-workers were so understanding and supportive. Going back to work and laughing and being ridiculous as much as we are was so good for me.

 

But there has been one person that has been through it all with me, Beau. I don’t even know where to start. How do you thank someone who was with me every time I tried to breastfeed, fed Ewan a bottle of breast milk while I pumped for the next feeding, washed bottles and pump parts, went with me to the Lactation Foundation, and all appointments at my doctor’s office. He stayed up all night with Ewan when his days and nights were mixed up while I slept. He stayed home an extra week because I was still really struggling. There is nobody in this world I would rather spend my life and raise Ewan with. He has been and continues to be hero, my rock.

 

A good friend told me that God knew what I would go through and through my story I can help other women for His glory.  I pray that women can find hope in my story. If you know of somebody struggling, reach out to them. If YOU are struggling, please reach out to somebody for help.  It WILL get better, but you must get help. You aren’t broken if you need medication and/or therapy.  You are STRONG and BRAVE for getting help. You are a good mother!

 

(And don’t forget the dads! 1 in 10 dads will go through paternal postpartum depression. 50% of the husbands of wives with PPD will go through Paternal PPD)

 

With Hope and Healing,

Brittany