My Experience with Postpartum Depression
2011: The birth of my first daughter was a whirlwind. She arrived 2 weeks early + labor progressed much quicker than I had anticipated. I didn’t know how to ride the waves of contractions. I didn’t know my body could be so powerful. After only a handful of hours, I was fully dilated + ready to push. I pushed whether I was contracting or not. For over 2 hours. I tore, but it was “nothing out of the norm.” I had wonderful postpartum care from my midwife, but my healing was excruciatingly slow (as in, I felt pain while walking, sitting, having sex, or going to the bathroom 4 months postpartum). Eventually I had surgery, which jumpstarted my physical healing, but the mental + emotional healing was much slower. Breastfeeding was difficult. Becoming a mama was jarring. I was still newly married + in an unfamiliar town, away from my family + close friends. It was a very lonely time for me.
I had postpartum depression + I was completely unaware.
I remember going for a walk with my daughter (once the pain stopped) every day just to do something without doing something. I didn’t want to join a “mommy group” or really interact with people (even though maybe that could have helped), but I didn’t want to sit around our house all day either. So I walked for hours. We would stop to feed, change her diaper, + then continue walking. It was the only thing I instinctively knew to do + I think that physical movement deeply influenced my recovery.
2014: The birth of my second daughter was a piece of cake (including the sugar crash afterwards). I was extremely nervous for the entire pregnancy, worrying that my second recovery would be similar + on top of that, I also was responsible for an extroverted 3-year-old. But I was pleasantly surprised by another quick birth, gentle contractions, + only 20 minutes of pushing. I tore again, but I was extreme about soaking in sitz baths, healing my body with teas + nurturing foods, + actually resting, so my recovery was more “normal.” But I had undiagnosed depression all throughout my pregnancy (most likely much of my life), which also increases your likelihood of experiencing postpartum depression.
I had postpartum depression + I was numb.
Now I had 2 little ones to care for, one who decided she did not like to sleep much at all, so you can guess how well-rested I was. I didn’t have (or accept) a lot of help. I constantly felt like it took all my effort to hold it all together. We were very distracted with the possibility of a cross-country move during the entire pregnancy, so that weighed heavily on our minds + consumed much of my postpartum time.
2018: The birth of my son was highly anticipated. We had tried to conceive for just over a year before I became pregnant with him + that waiting period was a dark time for us. I still had the undiagnosed depression, was potty training, homeschooling, + trying my hardest to “deal with stress so I could get pregnant.” We still don’t know why it took a bit for me to conceive, but I have some thoughts that I can post another time. My son’s birth was filled with relief that he was finally with us, but I struggled to push all of his 9.5 pounds out of my body for almost 2 hours. The experience reminded me of some trauma from my first birth that I hadn’t dealt with, so it was a bit haunting for me. But once he was here, my body recovered quickly + I thought we had adjusted well, but then he had some significant medical challenges + 6 months of extreme colic.
I had postpartum depression + I was desperate.
I was so hyper-focused on my son. Why wasn’t he growing? Was he hurting? Why was he crying allllll the time? I spent hours on the computer, at check ups, with Lactation Consultants, Chiropractors, Pediatric Dentists, Nautropaths, getting blood draws + ultrasounds, doing testing, ruling things out. We still don’t know what caused his constant crying + off the charts lack of growth, but once he was around 6 months, he mysteriously started to cry less + started gaining pounds like it was his job. There was a bit of relief.
And then, since there was a moment of quiet for me to reflect, it dawned on me that I was not OK + I hadn’t been OK for as long as I could remember. Before I got pregnant with my son, I was finally diagnosed with depression, + it was recommended that I go on medication, but because I was struggling to get pregnant, I didn’t want anything to mess with my chances (when in reality, it probably would have helped me get pregnant in the first place). So I chose to wait. I put myself last yet again. And as a result I suffered (as did everyone else in my family).
When my son was about a year old, through tears at a routine pap appointment, my doctor stopped, held my hand, + suggested that it might be time to re-think avoiding medication. She said that she would put me on the lowest dose + that it wouldn’t be forever. She also suggested therapy. I thought all the hot baths + manicures were checking my self-care box, but as it turned out, I had started my mothering journey ignoring my own needs, pain, + wants, so I just continued on that journey. I didn’t know any other way. I just sort of assumed that’s what mothering was all about.
With each baby, I may have looked + acted differently, but in reality, we are creatures of habit, who fall back on the same ol’ actions under stress. Mine were shopping + eating, but no matter what I put in my cart or in my mouth, they never really brought me the relief, comfort, + “seen-ness” that I so desperately craved.
I know that medication is not for everyone. Therapy may not even be for everyone. But I also think that there is no harm in trying something new if you are not feeling like you are the person you want to be. I wish that I could go back to 2011, 2014, + 2018 + sit with myself. To really listen to how I was feeling + acknowledge it. To spend time thinking + processing if I was the person I wanted to be FOR ME. Not just because it affected my family, but because it deeply affected + wounded me.
I wish that I could have been brave enough to question if my experiences were normal (even though it was common, it is not normal). But now because I cannot go back in time, I like to support mamas where they are now. I like to help them lay the foundation for their mothering journey. I like to help guide them towards intuitive-parenting + how to communicate + advocate for their needs as they need. To ask them the tough questions + to help them self-screen for postpartum depression. I do not diagnose or suggest, but I do highlight what is beyond normal or healthy. Mostly, I just ask lots of questions, listen deeply, + help provide resources.
You feel exhausted because this time is exhausting.
You feel overwhelmed because this time is overwhelming.
You feel all the feels because this is postpartum.
But postpartum doesn’t have to be dark + scary + lonely. Those feelings are not normal + they are not reflective of you as a person or a mama.
AND there is hope. If you need resources, please message me. You don’t have to do this alone + you don’t have to continue to feel the deep dark feelings that you may be feeling. You deserve to have a vibrant postpartum!
