I think I fell out of blogging when I was diagnosed with post-partum depression. I did not get it instantly after he was born. It took a couple of months but I knew something was not right. I just was not myself. I found myself absolutely HATING nursing and pumping and anything that had to do with my boobs being associated with food for the baby. As soon as he would finish nursing, I couldn't hand him off to Mike fast enough and I dreaded feeding time every single time. And I didn't understand how other women loved it and thought of it as special bonding time and actually looked forward to it. I couldn't stand it. I was only doing it for the nutritional value that it served Milton. I didn't care that it would help me lose weight or any of the other benefits that it provided for me, I just hated it and could never figure out why.
I was also angry all of the time. I did have a few times where I would be sad and cry for what seemed to be no reason, but I was more angry than anything. Not 'hurt the baby' angry or anything like that, just overall in general angry with life. I remember on several occasions saying to Mike "Where's the joy in all of this? I don't get it." And I really didn't. I thought the baby had taken my life away from me. No more crafts and hobbies when I wanted to, no more hanging out with friends on the drop of hat, hell, I couldn't even get to the gym on a normal schedule. And I had understood that when I got pregnant but the feeling was magnified once he was here. I kept asking myself 'what was so special about all of this?' because I really didn't see it. And everyone was constantly telling me how blessed I was with such a sweet baby and how perfect he was and didn't I just love being a mother? It was so difficult because at that point I really didn't, but I just smiled and agreed and kept on.
At first I had no idea that I was acting or feeling any different than normal. Mike started to mention things and point out things I was saying but I just brushed it off as being crabby while my hormones tried to regulate themselves back to normal. And as patient as Mike is, he kept quietly persisting that maybe something was wrong more than that. Maybe I should go back to the Dr. and just see. "But I have already been to my 6 week post partum checkup and I passed the depression test" was always my answer. What mother wants to admit that yes, maybe I do have post-partum depression. . .in what is supposed to be the most wonderful time of my life, I have post-partum depression. How could that even be?
After having a melt-down at work and talking with one my close friends and mentors there, I decided that maybe I should go back to the Dr and see what was wrong because I was NOT myself and people at work were noticing. When I made the appointment that afternoon, they asked what the nature of my visit was going to be and I said "I think I might have post-partum depression." There was silence on the other end for a minute and then she told me I was doing a brave thing by coming in.
I will never, ever, ever forget what the receptionist said to me that day I went back into the Dr. She was collecting my insurance card and verifying my address and then in a hushed tone she said "I can't help but notice why you are here today. . .I have to tell you that I am proud of you and that this is the single best thing you will do for you and your baby." She was probably in her mid 60's and she continued, "looking back, I believe I had post-partum depression with all three of my children. . .but back in my day you could NOT talk about it at all, much less get it treated. So for the first three years of my kid's lives, I despised being a mother and missed out on the joy of all of those milestones and spending the time loving them. You will be so glad that you did this." That definitely gave me some reassurance that it was Ok to admit this problem was plaguing me and I was doing the right thing telling my Dr. And sure enough, I failed the depression test this time and in describing my feelings the Dr told me I had a text book case of post-partum depression.
So I had to establish "me" time again which translated to the gym for me so we worked out a schedule so I could get back there. We started doing regular monthly date nights where we aren't allowed to talk about Milton and money and bills and anything like that, it is a time to focus on us because before Milton there was an us. And of course I was given an anti-depressant to help get my hormones back in check. And it all did work in time.
Making that appointment WAS the single best thing I did for myself and Milton, and even for Mike. He had to sit and watch me completely change and couldn't do anything to fix me. That had to be so difficult for him. I am so lucky to have found him.
Motherhood is an extreme privilege and I am SO happy that I get to be the mother to such a wonderful little boy. He has brightened our world in so many ways, I can't imagine that we had a life without him. To be able to watch him grow and learn and develop his little personality has been completely wonderful. There is nothing else like being a parent, it really is magical sometimes.
I wanted to share my experience with post-partum depression because it is Ok to talk about it and it is Ok to be treated for it. It doesn't make you less of a mom, I think recognizing something isn't right and taking care of it, makes you more of a mom. After all, every little thing you do is ultimately for your kids, even if that means taking the time to care for yourself. If anyone else out there is struggling with post-partum depression, do not be afraid to speak out to your friends and family and make that phone call to the Dr. Also, I found a lot of solace in Brooke Shield's book: Down Came the Rain. There is hope and there is a way out of the depression, you just have to come to realization that you need help, and that it is OK to ask for it.
