The Daunting Challenges of PPD Recovery

HERE ARE THE CHALLENGES I FACED DURING MY HEALING PROCESS

The Logistical Challenges of Recovery:

· Finding out that what I was going through had a label and was a “real thing” was helpful, but then, I didn’t know what to do. Website listed a lot of options, but did I start with the medical tests, the counseling, the support groups, reading, journaling? I just needed someone to tell me ONE place to start. The thing that would help me feel best the fastest.

· I found a lot of websites that dealt with PPD, but I didn’t know where to go after that. They all had phone numbers to call and emails addresses to use, but most were impersonal and intimidating. It’s very hard to pick up the phone and call when you’re not sure who you’ll talk to, or how they’ll respond (or if you’ve got a cranky baby in your arms all the time).

· There was nothing in my new town/area… and most things were in Boston/Brookline/Cambridge, which seemed way too far away. I wanted/needed a community in my area. I'm still trying to find this community.

· After breastfeeding, sleep deprivation, and having your entire life rocked, it was really hard to find the energy and motivation to actually focus on my own health.

· I still had to do everything – make the appointments, do the research, find a babysitter so I could go, figure out how to “fix everything.” I didn’t have the strength or motivation to do so… it’s hard to allow yourself to spend money and time on yourself when you’re not working and bringing in money.

· There was no one who could holistically help me. Meaning, I could go to an acupuncturist OR a shiatsu practitioner OR a psychologist OR a doctor OR an herbalist. But these folks were only looking at pieces of me… and if I wanted the whole of me addressed, I’d have to go to several different people and go through my entire story again and again. That kind of care is expensive, and it’s also way too complicated for a mom who’s depressed. It’s hard enough to take vitamins, much less figure out all of those support systems for yourself. I actually had to have a friend sit down with me, so I could tell her all the options running around in my head, and have her help me figure them out. It was just too much for me at that point. I dream of a place where a woman can go to have all of her postpartum care taken care of... under one roof... with no stress or responsibility placed on her to manage her own care.

The Emotional Challenges of Recovery:

· It’s almost like a cancer diagnosis would be easier, because then at least you get sympathy, and you don’t get blamed for being sad or scared. Many people – especially those who I would normally turn to for support - didn’t take me seriously. My PPD was dismissed/trivialized/ignored.

· I kept thinking I’d get better – but a week turned into a month, turned into a year. Pretty soon, it’s been a long time.

· It’s cyclical, so you think you’re doing OK, then wham, it hits you again… and people get sick of hearing you talk about it. They expect that after a month you’re all better, and they don’t know that you’re still hurting. You get sick of feeling awful, too, and just want it to go away.

The Financial Challenges of Recovery:

· I wasn’t working on my business very much, because I simply couldn’t. Since I wasn’t making a lot of money, it was stressful for me to think about investing in my own health.

· Most of the practitioners who could help me the most were expensive.

The Communication Challenges of Recovery:

· My husband didn’t want to participate in any of my healing journey. He wanted things to get back to normal, but he wasn’t really willing/able to help me or to assume responsibility for it. It was MY problem. He didn’t come to any of the sessions with me, or talk with me about them. I felt very alone, and like it was my problem – and my problem only. I felt extremely alienated from my husband. It was hard living in the house with someone who used to be my strength and support… and then not being able to talk with him about it, because he didn’t want to hear about it. husbands need to be educated on what their wives need from them – they can’t “FIX IT” – they need to listen and be supportive in other ways. They need to help out even more normal.

· When people ask you how they’re doing (if they even do, most of the time, they’re focused on the baby), they don’t really seem like they want to hear about it.

· Care providers dismissed my feelings and concerns. For example, when I went to see the Nurse Practitioner at my new PCP’s office for my physical, I told her that I’d had a traumatic C-section. Her response? “Well, at least you have a healthy baby.” When I expressed concern over the fact that it had been almost a year since my C-section, and I still couldn’t have sex because it was so painful, she responded, “Well, I hate to say this, but some husbands are rough and that doesn’t help.” Then she referred me to a sexual abuse counselor.

· I never knew how someone would respond – people in my inner circle judged me (or that’s how it felt to me). Or if I tried to tell them what was going on, they told me all new moms had postpartum depression, or that my mom cried after I was born, too. They also told me I was wasting my time with my son by being sad.

· I didn’t have a PCP (I’d always taken care of myself). I couldn’t get into one for 3-4 months (which is a LIFETIME for a depressed mom). I didn’t know who to call… did I call my midwife (who’d dumped me)? My OB-Gyn (who’d cut me) and who had only known me for a month? My old OB-Gyn (who I hadn’t seen for a few years and didn’t even know I’d been pregnant)? I didn’t have a care provider to turn to… especially one that would help me figure out natural ways of healing myself.

· It’s hard feeling like you need to pretend like you’re fine when you’re not. I tried telling people the truth, but most people either didn’t want to hear it… or they simply downplayed it and so I simply stopped saying the truth after a while. That made me want to withdraw, which only made it worse.

· The simple fact of the matter is this: most people forget about you after the baby comes. They focus all attention, presents, and energy on the baby. They assume you’re fine and you don’t need help when in reality, you need help well through the entire first year.

· Other moms didn’t talk about PPD – they put up a front like everything’s OK, even if it’s not. It’s hard to know who you can trust, if you want to talk about it.

Other Pieces of my Healing Journey from PPD

OTHER THINGS I DID AS PART OF MY HEALING JOURNEY:

- When I could, I journaled and got feelings out on paper. When I couldn’t sleep at night, I stayed up and communicated with “real people” via email (ICAN and friends). Sometimes, I wrote emails to my husband and sent them in the middle of the night because, honestly, he’d probably read the email before we’d have a chance to talk it over anyway. This worked for me because I’m a writer and writing helps me be 100% honest, and release what’s inside of me. Creating this blog has been very helpful, especially when I read responses from other women who have found my posts. Very, very helpful.

- I went to the library and tried to find helpful books. Most of them seemed so “surface level” and unhelpful and unreal. Brooke Shield’s book was great, in that it spoke the truth about how awful PPD can be, but her reality (hiring a baby nurse, and having so many financial resources at her disposal) simply didn’t resonate. Plus, I didn’t want to take drugs, so I couldn’t really identify with her treatment choice. The book “Rebounding from Childbirth” by Lynn Madsen was a godsend. This was the book I’d been waiting for, particularly in the way it addressed the PTSD from my C-section. It was focused more on birth than motherhood, so is more helpful from a PTSD standpoint, than PPD. I posted more on PPD books in another post on this blog. Mostly helpful.

- I even tried cooking my placenta – but I didn’t know how to do it. Not sure if I did it right, so I was nervous to take the pills. I finally took some about 15 months after my son was born… I wish I’d had someone to prepare it for me, and I wish I’d taken it right away after the C-section. That probably would have helped tremendously. ???

- Writing my birth stories out and posting them on my blog and sending them to ICAN – making them public. Very helpful.

- Watching my birth video to see what really happened. Helpful.

- Exercise really helped boost my mood, and it made me feel like I had control of something again. It was something just for me, and something that made me feel like I was reclaiming the old, strong parts of me. Having personal trainer help me get on track was a lifesaver, particularly because she helped me with exercises I could do with Evan around, and particularly because she came to my house. Very helpful.

- Eating well played a huge role for me. What helped was making sure I was taking cod liver oil (for the EFAs), getting enough vitamins/minerals, protein (to feel strong), and vegetables. Minimizing sugar, avoiding caffeine and alcohol like the plague. Very helpful.

- I had to use hypnosis/relaxation tapes to help me get to sleep at night, because I had flashbacks. It was really hard to sleep for a long time, but I finally figured out that if my husband told me stories that he made up himself, his voice and the mundane-ness of the stories would lull me to sleep. Helpful.

- I joined a Postpartum Depression Task Force that had just started up in my area (the North Shore of Boston) – I was the only member of the task force who had been through PPD, and so sharing my story and keeping the Task Force honest around the realities of PPD has been very helpful. Also, setting boundaries for myself with the Task Force (I attend meetings, but don’t do much in-between work) has been good for my “keep life simple” mind. Also, knowing 40+ new people who could support me if I got PPD again has been a relief. I’m creating a community that could one day support me, if I need it. It’s good to see how far I’ve come, and it’s great to be in a setting where I can use my mind and leadership skills to help create change. Helpful.

People I Turned to For PPD Support... and their Reactions

Here are all of the people that I called upon for help… and their reactions to my plea. I rank these according to the level of their helpfulness.

PEOPLE I CONTACTED/GROUPS I WENT TO FOR SUPPORT:

Friends and Family:

- The first person I went to was my husband, Ben, because I needed to hear whether I was making the right diagnosis, and I needed/wanted his feedback. I remember asking him, “Do you think I might have PPD?” He didn’t hesitate for even a split second before responding a firm and loud, “Yes, I do.” He said he was going to bring it up, but he didn’t know if it would offend me or make it worse. He said he didn’t want to talk about it anymore until he’d had a chance to do some research and come back with a “plan.” Two nights later, he came home and handed me a print out which contained a list of “signs that you have PPD” and “recovery methods” that he’d found online. He went through them all, and told me which symptoms he thought I had, and which recovery methods he thought would work. But he didn’t want to talk about the details. I tried to get him to talk about what it was like for me, but he wanted to stick to the list. He simply wanted me to pick a solution and fix myself. Since that initial interaction, there have been many times I’ve asked him to talk about it. Sometimes, if it’s late at night, he says he wants to wait until morning (but then he never brings it up). Sometimes, if I’m up and can’t sleep in the middle of the night, he’ll get up and I know he knows I’m not asleep, but he doesn’t come get me. Other times, he’ll listen, but he won’t ask me questions and he won’t go there… I think it’s too painful for him. He can’t fix it, and that drives him nuts. So he just ignores it and hopes that someone else will fix me, or I’ll just let it go. Not really helpful.

- In fall 2006, I asked a friend and fellow business owner if she would help me brainstorm my options. I could see all my option swirling around in my head, but I couldn’t make sense of them or figure out which to do first. I basically asked her to help me prioritize and create a project plan, which was too hard for me to do on my own. Helpful.

- I emailed and called a few other friends, telling them what was going on and asking for support. Some were very helpful (i.e. took me kayaking, and watched Evan while I went to counseling sessions). Others said they would check back in with me, but never did. Mostly helpful.

- I asked my friend and fellow holistic health counselor to call and check in on me every single day for a while. She did, and this was very helpful, because she simply listened. And asked questions. And didn’t judge me. And told me that this was very, very hard, and that she was very, very sorry. She never tired of listening to me, and she told me she cared. Over and over and over again. This was exactly what I needed. Very helpful!

- I told my mother-in-law that I had PPD, and that I would really need some extra help watching my son. I told her because she lives 10 minutes away, and I thought she could be a lot of help. She never brought it up with me again, or asked me how I was doing. Helpful – she babysat for Evan. Not helpful – she never spoke with me about how I was doing.

- I told my parents that I was having trouble getting over the C-section, and my dad said that he was sorry, but he never asked about it again. My mom said things that didn’t make me feel better (like, “I wish you hadn’t gotten so sensitive over the past few years because then the C-section wouldn’t have bothered you” and “I wish that you’d just enjoy Evan now.” I never brought the PPD subject up with her, because I didn’t think she would support me the way I needed/wanted to be supported, so I never said anything. I now know that this wasn’t fair – I didn’t give her the chance. She knew something was wrong, but I wouldn’t tell her… and the longer it went on, the more difficult it was to say anything. Also, my parents had other people who needed their support, and I didn’t want to be another burden, or get too much attention from them. Plus, they live in CA, so besides phone calls and emails, there’s not much they could have done. I didn’t want them flying out to help… that would have made me feel worse, like more of a loser. Not helpful (mainly my fault).

- I gradually found another mom who I identified with… she’d had a C-section and resulting PPD, too, and she wasn’t happy with motherhood, either. Being able to be honest around her was so wonderful. She let me speak my truth, no matter how I was feeling, and I felt I could be honest with her. And seeing that there was another other loving, vibrant, charismatic, passionate, and ambitious woman who wasn’t crazy about motherhood was so helpful for me. It helped me let go of my own self-judgment and blame. Because she was an amazing woman, and yet she hated her birth and she didn’t love motherhood… so didn’t that mean that it was OK that I felt the same way? Very helpful!

The Medical Community:

- I called my OB-GYN who did my C-section, because all the websites said that your OB-Gyn is your first line of defense. My OB gave me what I assume was the PPD test at my 2-week check-up, but didn’t give it to me at my 6-week check-up. I don’t remember her asking me how I was doing emotionally at the 6-week check-up, she only covered physical things. Even if she had asked, I wouldn’t have told her what was going on. I was still in shock, and I hated her because she did my C-section, I wouldn’t want her to know how messed up I was because of it. I just wanted to be done with her. She did know that I was having an extremely difficult time breastfeeding, and trouble with my scar.. I finally called her to tell her I had PPD, and didn’t know where to turn, since I’d moved to a new city and didn’t have care providers up here. I asked her to call me back with the name of a doctor who I could go to (someone with a holistic slant, if possible) to get bloodwork done and rule out physical problems… but her office manager only left the name of an acupuncturist on my voice mail. There was no additional follow-up from them, ever. Not helpful.

- I called several different PCPs in the Andover/Cambridge areas. In every case, I told them I had a bad case of PPD, and needed to get in for a physical and some blood tests to rule out anemia and thyroid problems. In every case, they told me it would be a 3+ month wait. I finally got in to see a nurse practitioner in January (I started calling around to find a doctor in September). Four months is a LIFETIME to wait when you’re depressed. Not helpful.

- To get support around painful postpartum sex, I emailed a physical therapist, but never heard back. I called another physical therapist and was told there was a 4-month waiting list, and to check back with her later. I asked if she could refer me to someone else who did the same kind of work in the area, but she said she was the only one who had this particular level of expertise. She made me feel like I was bothering her by calling. Again, this could have been my level of sensitivity at this point… but when dealing with a mom with PPD, you have to tread oh-so-lightly if you’re a practitioner. You have to overwhelm us with love, because we feel terrible about ourselves. Not helpful.

- I emailed a ND (naturopath) who I’d seen a few months after Evan was born… who was very supportive at that appointment. I told her that I had PPD, and I needed to get some medical support. She never responded to my email. Helpful – the initial visit. Follow-up during PPD time - not helpful.

- At my son’s 5 day check-up, my pediatrician asked me how breastfeeding was going, and when I burst into tears, she sent us directly to a lactation consultant. She never asked me how I was doing in subsequent visits, and in fact patronized me when I asked questions about Evan… telling me that I should be able to find those answers in books. BOOKS? That’s assuming I had time to read… or that I would remember what I read. Neither or which was happening. Then we moved and found a new pediatrician, and he never broached the subject of how we were doing as parents, either. He was a homeopathic doctor, and probably could have really helped to smooth my moods out, but he never asked about PPD. Not helpful.

- I went to see a psychologist for a few sessions, mainly because she was close to me, and because she took my insurance. However, although I went to her to talk about PPD and PTSD from my C-section, she never asked me about my birth. She talked with me about motherhood, and my parents, but she never addressed the issue that was most intense for me at that time… my son’s birth. I had to take Evan to these appointments, so that was frustrating. I spent lots of time trying to keep him happy and quiet… and so I couldn’t really concentrate. Not helpful.

- When Evan was 22 months old, I went to see a holistic MD, who’s also a homeopathic doctor. He listened to my whole story, asked lots of questions, and gave me one homeopathic remedy… and told me, “Let that work on you.” The next month, I went back, told him how I was doing (I hadn’t had a depressive episode that month… which was a first for me)… and instead of feeling sad and overwhelmed, I was mainly irritable and angry. He said, “Good, sounds like the remedy is working… we’ll just let it continue to work.” He also spoke with me about adding more animal fat into my diet… for more Vitamin A and D… and the importance of a high quality cod liver oil. I was already taking cod liver oil, but he gave me a different brand which had a lot more Vitamin A and D… and that has helped. He says that he thinks that changing my diet would have helped ease the depression. The sessions with this doctor really helped – not just the remedies and food changes – but because he really helped me talk through the changes that happens when you become a mom. He helped create an opening where I could slow down and listen to my inner voice. It told me that I had to take a sabbatical from my business… and let go of some of my old passions and commitments, so that I could create space for motherhood. That has made a HUGE difference just in the past few weeks. VERY HELPFUL.

The Healing Community:

- In summer 2006, I emailed my doula, who suggested I get counseling. Neutral.

- In summer 2006, I bartered with a personal trainer to get myself exercising again, and try and figure out exercises that I could do with Evan around. This was very helpful, and helped me regain my physical strength. If she hadn’t come to my house though, I wouldn’t have been able to make it happen. Her house visits saved me. Very helpful.

- In summer 2006, told various holistic health counselors what was going on – some of them called periodically to check in on me. It was also very, very helpful to talk with other holistic health counselors, because they’re non-judgmental, they listen well, they ask great questions, and they helped me see that it was simply OK to feel the way I was feeling… and backed me up on my commitment to continue to try and feel better. Very helpful.

- In summer 2006, I purchased phone sessions from a practitioner in Canada who specializes in helping moms and dads identify with their babies. I wanted to help support my son through all of this emotional turmoil. The counselor ended up supporting me as well as my son. This was mostly very helpful, but our work often made me feel like it was my fault for my son’s fussiness, and that all of the solutions rested on my shoulders. It became too much pressure on me to fix things, and the expense was too great, so I stopped. She didn’t specialize in PPD. However, I loved that I could email her at 3:00 in the morning when I couldn’t sleep, and get all my ugly feelings out, and she would respond. Mostly helpful.

- In fall 2006, I went to five counseling sessions with a birth trauma/postpartum depression specialist in the Boston area. These sessions were extremely helpful, because I could be totally honest, and I felt like she was one of few people who were asking the right questions and creating a safe space for me in a formal therapy environment. I ended up having to stop these sessions because of the cost, the fact that I had to drive almost as hour to get to the sessions, and because I didn’t have anyone to watch my son while I was in the sessions. Very helpful.

- In fall 2006, I was referred to a nutritionist for a quick, complimentary phone consult. He prescribed minerals, vitamins, and some supplement powders… for someone who could barely remember to drink water during the day, it was an incredibly overwhelming routine. Not helpful.

- In winter and spring of 2007, I saw my spiritual counselor in NH once, and spoke with her by phone a few times. The sessions were extremely helpful, but again, the cost was prohibitive. Very helpful.

- In the summer of 2007, I hired a holistic health counselor to help me get my health back on track. In our first call, she recognized that my birth trauma and PPD still wasn’t over and done with, so we started working on that as well. She referred me to someone who does Seemorg-Matrix work, but I’m tired from working with so many people and spending so much money. Helpful.

- A few times, I saw the shiatsu practitioner who’d supported me during pregnancy. I also got several massages. Getting bodywork helped me get over the hatred of my body and my C-section scar. Helpful.

Support Organizations:

- I went online and found a lot of websites. However, these websites were pretty generic, and I wouldn’t dream of calling an 800 number to talk with a stranger. I also felt very overwhelmed, because there were so many options, yet there weren’t any personal connections that I felt comfortable making. The sites didn’t really express the true level of intensity of emotion that I was feeling, they all made PPD sound so ‘benign.’ The writing was very clinical and impersonal. Like C-section writing, most websites don’t do PPD justice. Not helpful.

- I got so desperate at one point that I called Catholic Church and asked them if they knew of any babysitters in the area so I could get help with my son while I got help for myself… I also asked them if they had any women’s groups that I could join for support. They did try to help me find a babysitter, but in the end, no one had any solutions to offer. Not helpful.

- I emailed a local mothers’ group community and told them that I was suffering from the baby blues, and didn’t know anyone in the community. I didn’t get a big response back. Later, they started a Depression group, but I didn’t join because I thought it was behind me… and I didn’t want to go to a group where I didn’t know anyone.

- When my son was about 4 weeks old, I called Jewish Family Services to ask to be assigned a Visiting Mom. The program coordinator came over and interviewed me. It was the one day I was able to get dressed and clean the house. Of course, my son slept the whole time she was there. She found out that my sister-in-law came one afternoon a week, and my mother-in-law came another afternoon a week… and I was denied my Visiting Mom. They said they only reserve Visiting Moms for new moms who have no support. This really made me feel like I didn’t deserve to ask for help, that I was in a good situation and shouldn’t need any other support. Not helpful.

- However, I persisted. And when my son was 6 weeks old, I went to a postpartum group called “This is Not What I Expected.” The group was hosted by the Jewish Family Services, and it was close to my house. It was really helpful in that 1. it was cheap – only $40 for the 8 week sessions 2. I could say whatever I wanted without fearing judgment 3. it was great to be around other moms who hated motherhood, too – I didn’t feel like such a loser. However, it was frustrating for me because 1. there were moms who’d been there for months, and I didn’t want to think that I’d still be depressed months later 2. they didn’t facilitate the group at all, we basically just sat there and talked when we felt like it, with no facilitation 3. they didn’t help us talk about what we could do differently when we left the space. I didn’t just want to vent, I wanted to identify one action step I could take to change my reality. Semi-helpful.

- I called Jewish Family Services again when my son was 7 months old and I realized I had full force PPD. Peggy Kauffman was one of the only people who truly GOT it and understood what I was going through. She called me back promptly, she made calls to psychologists for me (recognizing that I would want someone close by, and might not have the motivation to call to see who would accept my insurance). She even called back once to check on me, which left such an amazing impression on me. I did meet with her to talk about scheduling some sessions, but the $150 per session fee was simply too steep at that point. Could have been helpful.

- I joined ICAN – the International Cesarean Awareness Network, and became a part of their yahoo email group. I was able to read stories from other moms who felt like I did… and post about my honest feelings of depression, anger, grief, etc. about my C-section and motherhood. This was EXTREMELY helpful – this group of women are compassionate, caring, and honest. This has been a godsend, and I don’t know where I’d be without it. The list also helps me see how much I’ve grown, because I get to help other moms… and through posting and writing my experiences, I get a cathartic release. Very, very helpful!

- I asked everywhere for babysitters, so I could get some alone time and time away from my mother duties… it took me eight months to find a babysitter in my area for my son. Helpful once I found someone.

My PPD/PTSD Symptoms

My PPD/PTSD Symptoms

· I experienced a lack of energy – felt like I was dragging all the time.

· I was often unable to sleep – I was up late at night with insomnia.

· I didn’t like motherhood and I didn’t want to talk about my birth to anyone.

· I avoided phone calls and people.

· I had dreams that I died during surgery before Evan was born.

· I cried for 3 weeks straight before he was born.

· I wasn’t even sure why I was even on this earth – I asked myself what the point of life was a lot.

· I wasn’t interested in eating well, and I drank wine during the day straight out of the bottle.

· It felt like I couldn’t remember to do even one little thing for my own health – drink water, taking vitamins… these seemed too difficult.

· I had flashbacks to my son’s birth ALL the time.

· I experienced feelings of gloom, grief, anger ALL the time – these feelings were like a cloud over my head that never went away.

· I didn’t want to have sex – I had no interest in being physically intimate with my husband.

· I didn’t want to hang out with Evan – I resented him and didn’t like when he cried. I didn’t even like my son for the first 12 months of his life. I loved him, but I didn’t like him. Because in my mind, he was the one who made me feel this way.

· I didn’t feel like a mother at all… I thought others knew how to take better care of him than I did. I didn’t go out with him for a long time (it took me three months to get up the nerve to take him to the grocery store) and I didn’t even think about signing us up for mom & baby events or classes.

· I didn’t want to go out and meet other mothers – I had no interest in trying to pretend like I was fine when I wasn’t. I hated being around myself, I couldn’t imagine that others would want to be.

· I got really jealous, sad, or mad when I heard of moms having good births, or liking motherhood. Those positive feelings felt so foreign to me – I thought they must be lying.

· I had intense fear and anxiety in the weeks leading up to Evan’s birthday – I didn’t plan a party for that day and didn’t want to celebrate the anniversary of my surgery.

· I had panic attacks and felt intense anger and sadness when I would see a pregnant woman, drive past my midwife’s house, watch a birth/parenting show on TV, or enter a doctor’s office.

· I had trouble recalling the details of my son’s first six months of life. I didn’t keep a baby journal or write any letters to him – I wasn’t interested in any of that.

· I disconnected from my family and many of my friends… except people with whom I could discuss the C-section and my true feelings.

· I didn’t think my marriage would last, or that I would ever like motherhood.

· When I look back on the videos I took, I look happy. But I don’t remember any happiness. To the normal outsider, I would look completely happy and content. But on the inside, I was screaming out for help.

· During the first few months, I wanted to escape into my business… but then, as the PPD got stronger, I had trouble motivating myself to do my work. Still, no one would have known this, because from the outside, I was still working a lot.

· I had insane mood swings – I felt bipolar, in a way. I had bursts of anger, long bouts of tears, I would scream and yell in my house, and I’d stay in my bed or in the shower for long periods of time.

· I went to the movies a week after Evan was born, and didn’t want to go back home. I dropped my father off at the airport two weeks after he was born, and I didn’t want to go back home.

· I actually thought about leaving my husband… and son.

*****

Things that made me realize I wasn’t in the same ‘motherhood’ space’ as many of my friends:

o Amara sounded like she was coping just fine 3 months after birth – and she wasn’t mad or depressed like I was

o Kirsten emailed me and asked about Evan – but I never asked any moms about their kids – I never even thought to ask – when they asked me, I never even really cared about asking about their kids

o When a professional organizer emailed me about the fact that “it’s hard to keep up once you’re a new mom, because the clothes are constantly getting outgrown” I assumed she was talking about MY clothes, not my son’s baby clothes. The baby simply didn't enter my consciousness.

o Kirsten emailed me to ask me to go toy shopping b/c she was addicted to buying toys for her son, and had so much fun with it. I realized I hadn’t bought Evan anything (not clothes, not toys, NOTHING), and he was 10 months old.

o I joined The Mother Connection and only went to the playroom once… I never went to any other events - I couldn't bear to be around other moms - I felt like a fake.

o When my brother called after Evan was born, I didn’t want to talk to him – I wasn’t happy, and I didn’t want him to know about it

o I never wanted to call anyone back when they left messages after Evan was born

o I was pissed off every time a family member from CA called and immediately asked about Evan – what about me????

My warning signs of PPD

Here are some of the signs that indicated a high likelihood that I would experience PPD:

· My pregnancy was earlier than planned (and not entirely wanted at that point in time), and my son was born 5 months after my wedding.

· I had a traumatic birth – a long C-section recovery, birth was completely opposite the homebirth we’d originally planned. My trusted midwife dumped me at the end of pregnancy and wouldn’t deliver my son.

· Breastfeeding was extremely painful and challenging for the first few weeks, and it took 2 months before my nipples didn’t hurt anymore.

· We moved to a new house and new town (where I knew no one and had no social connections) 3 months after the birth.

· We didn’t have daycare or a babysitter lined up, so I had to take care of Evan while trying to run my business.

A few emails I sent during my PPD hell

Email to Ben, my husband, 3/11/06 - Evan is 3 weeks old

Hi, sweetie.

I need to talk to you, and since you’ll probably check email before we talk in person, I thought I would just send you an email about what’s going on for me right now. I can’t sleep because I’m so worked up… and I know something is really bothering me because everyone is sleeping right now – even Evan – and I should be taking advantage of this time to sleep since I’ve been up for 4 hours now… but I tried going back into the bedroom to sleep, and I can’t even lay down next to you, that’s how worked up I am.

I am feeling very sad, overwhelmed, and not so great right now. I need you, and I feel like I’ve been trying to tell you that these past few weeks but I’m not sure I’m saying the right things so that you know just how much I need you. So I’ll just try to use email to try and tell you some of the things that I wish I could tell you in person. Everytime I try to say them, they sound so stupid that I can’t get them out of my mouth…. But they’re simmering inside, and perhaps typing them and hitting a ‘send’ button will feel less stupid.

I didn’t feel ready to be a mom before, and I still don’t feel ready to be a mom. A lot of the time, I wish things could go back to the way they were, before Evan. Not because I don’t think he’s awesome. But frankly, right now, I’m just not feeling the mommy love all the time. I don’t feel up to the task of having someone who needs me 24 hours out of the day, 7 days a week. The reality of that is daunting to me right now. I don’t always like the way that life has changed since I got pregnant with him. I feel like I’ve totally lost control of everything… my schedule, my body, my career, my independence, and my relationship with you. And I don’t feel like I had a say in any of it, I just had to take it and be OK with it, even if it wasn’t what I wanted… because doesn’t every woman want to be a mother?

Tonight I was supposed to get good sleep, yet here it is 8:00 a.m. and I’ve been awake since 4:00. I was awake through an entire feeding that wasn’t even supposed to be mine. And I’ll have to feed him again at any time… so the cycle just continues. To be honest, I’m annoyed that I had to be awake through what was supposed to be my ‘sleep’ time tonight. I know that’s petty, but it’s how I feel. Before we went to sleep, you told me you wanted me to get to sleep tonight. Yet, when the nighttime comes, you tell me that I should be around to feed him in case the syringe doesn’t work. That basically means, “Don’t sleep.” You can – and do - go back to sleep if I’m breastfeeding him at night… and you sleep through things and noises that happen in the night… but I don’t have that luxury. I have to be awake to breastfeed him if the syringe doesn’t work and he stays awake… and I have to wake up to pump even if I don’t feed him…. So that whole “sleeping through a feeding” doesn’t happen for me. It makes me resent being a mom, and then I resent myself for feeling that way about the situation, because he’s a baby and he just needs to eat, and it’s not his fault. And you’re tired and you can sleep better than me, and it’s not your fault either. I know you wanted me to be able to sleep last night. But in the end, it didn’t work out that way… and again I was awake through the feeding, and then beyond. It just doesn’t feel fair. When that happens, I find myself resenting you for just falling back to sleep and leaving me there to feed him again, or nag you awake. Just because I have the breasts doesn’t mean I want to stay awake and feed him. I guess I have this intense sense of ‘fairness’ and being a mom isn’t a ‘fair’ thing – but I guess I’m still thinking that it should be. I know I’ll have to let go of that.

I’m still feeling pretty yucky, physically, and I’m having a tough time transitioning into full-time mom stuff. I’m sure it will get easier, but right now, it feels like a continuation of pregnancy, where someone had taken over my body and it’s not mine anymore. I feel like all I am right now is a milkmaid, and sometimes I wish I just didn’t have to feed him. My body feels totally unsexy, and hurts and is swollen and leaks everywhere… and although I’m trying to get over the C-section thing, I’m still pissed that I had to be cut open, and had to go through this kind of recovery.

I told you that one of my biggest fears was that a baby was going to mean that I would just take a permanent backseat in your mind, and I feel like that’s already happening… and it’s really tough right now because I still really need you and want you to need me. Before, if I’d been crying like I was tonight, you would have asked me what was wrong… tonight, you pretty much ignored me, leaving me to just cry on my own in bed. That makes me feel so much worse. I told you I was going for a walk… you didn’t even ask me why or what was going on. What does that mean things are going to be for us 5, 10 years down the road? What will I have to do to get your attention? When this whole house sale starts in a few weeks, things will only be busier. And you’ll then have house projects going on… which makes me wonder if I’ll ever even see you when you’re home? How will I ever begin to compete for your attention at that point?

I know all of these things probably sound silly to you, and I’m sure that in a few days or weeks they’ll sound silly to me, too… but right now, I feel about as unattractive and undesirable as a floormat, so these are real concerns for me. How do I need you to treat me right now? The way you did when I was pregnant, where you took care of me and made me feel like I was important to you. Evan may be out of my belly now, but I’m still uncomfortable, and I’m still ‘restricted’ in what I can do, and my hormones are still totally out of whack. Basically I’m still pregnant, even though I look skinnier on the outside. Maybe other women revel in this motherhood stuff, but I’m not yet… and I can’t pretend that I am just yet… because that just makes me feel worse about how I feel. It makes me feel like a fraud if I pretend that everything is OK. At least if I can be honest with you and tell you how I’m feeling, even if it embarrasses me, I can get it out of my system which will hopefully make me feel better in the long run.

I don’t know what else to say. I’ve been up for way too long, and I really should go back to sleep, but I am still too worked up to sleep. Thanks for reading, I’m sorry for the rambling thoughts, and I know I’m totally complaining, but I had to send this otherwise I’d explode at a bad time.

Love,

Me

Email to one of my counselors, 9.13.06 - Ev is 7 months old

I just don’t know what to do anymore, and I’m getting SO tired of this. None of the books help with this night waking stuff, and my husband doesn’t help, even though he means well. He’s just useless in the middle of the night. I feel like my marriage is a mess, and a year after getting married it shouldn’t be like this. I feel like I’m not doing anything well – my business, my house, my mothering skills, my own self-care routine, my food, my sleep, my social life – they’re all just BLAH. I don’t have anything to talk about except Evan, and I don’t even want to go to social functions because, frankly, I have nothing to say, and I’m too tired anyway. I’m just barely scraping by on all of them… and this is NOT the kind of life I wanted. Maybe if I could scrap the business, the social life, the household stuff, and my own care… and just focus on Evan…. I might feel a sense of accomplishment and pleasure. But right now, even though I love Evan to death, I just feel like I want my old life back. And I can’t imagine adding another child to the mix.

Email to two of my friends, 9. 06, asking for help

It was especially helpful for me to have you guys there the other night, because it was a rough day. I feel like I should let you in on what’s going on for me right now. It’s hard because I hate asking for help, but I also know that I really need help and support right now.

I’ve got postpartum depression… I’ve had it ever since Evan was born (well, even longer if you count that last month of pregnancy when the C-section came into the picture). I’ve blamed it on lots of things like not getting enough sleep, moving to Andover and not knowing anyone, not having my career, not knowing what I’m doing as a mom, etc. – and all of these things were factors in the depression – but they’re not what’s causing it.

I don’t know much about PPD… I’m still trying to figure out how to treat it, other than medication (because of breastfeeding I don’t want to go that route)… but everything I know how to do isn’t working. From what I’ve read, it’s chemical/hormonal… so will power can’t fix it. I know, because every day I wake up and try to fix it. It’s like there’s a gap between what I know I should be doing for myself, and what’s actually getting done. Not having a babysitter and time away from Evan isn’t helping either, these days.

It’s not the kind of depression that makes me cry all day (although I do cry) or think of hurting myself or Evan… but I’m just “flat.” I don’t care about much anymore, and I can’t make decisions to save my life. I just go through the day, and I don’t do much, because I can’t. Everything is really hard. And because I’m sad, angry, bitter, resentful, and all that good stuff… I’m hiding from people, because who wants to be around someone like that? Pretending to be OK is a lot of work, and I don’t have enough energy to pretend anymore. If other moms feel this way (and I know they do), they don’t talk about it… so it’s a lonely place to be. I keep feeling like I should be able to snap myself out of it, but try as I might, I just can’t.

So, I just wanted to ask both of you if you’d be willing to check in with me every once in a while, and ask if we can get together. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy… just something to take my mind off of things, and get me out of the house. It’s fine to have Evan with me… I like to have Evan with me… but I have a hard time initiating anything these days… but I always feel so much better when I get out and make something happen. I feel like the last 7 months have just slipped by, and not in a way that I would have liked them to, so I’d like to start changing that.

Email to my husband, Ben on 10.5 - Ev is 7 1/2 months old (we'd gotten to the point where communicating by email worked better than communicating in person). Sad, but true.

… I'm resorting to email... just like in the first few weeks after Evan was born… when you and Evan were asleep, and I was up fuming and upset, and feeling totally alone. So I guess email is the only way I’ll be able to ‘talk’ to you about this.

If I ever leave the bedroom upset again at night, come get me. Don’t let me be down here alone. I know you might not know what to do or say, but at least come be with me so I don’t have to be by myself. Sometimes I wonder if you really love me and know me, because I simply don’t understand how you can stay up there in bed and sleep when you know I’m down here hurting. That completely boggles my mind.

I came down tonight to get you because I was having a hard time. I couldn’t say anything before bedtime because Mike was here. I figured I wouldn’t have a chance to talk with you in the morning because you’d be out tuna fishing. I was hoping you’d ask me how I was doing (because it’s really hard for me to start a conversation by telling you how tough a time I’m having), and when you finally asked me, and I told you I wasn’t alright… you had absolutely no response. No, “Tell me what‘s going on…” No “I’m sorry you’re feeling that way, is there anything you’d like to talk about?” You just went to sleep. When I finally mustered up the courage to restart the conversation by telling you I needed help, you asked if we could talk about it in the morning. That’s the same response you gave me about a week ago, the first time I asked you if you thought I had PPD. You asked if I wanted to talk about it in the morning. I didn’t – I wanted to talk about it then, but it was obvious YOU wanted to talk about it in the morning.

I need your help, Ben. I know you think you’re giving it. But I need more help, or a different kind of help. The help I need changes on a daily basis, so I need you to keep asking me what I need, and do your good job of anticipating/over-delivering what you think I need, if I can’t tell you. Mostly I need you to talk with me and ask me how I’m doing. I need you to ask me what it’s like, how my day was, to show interest in what’s going on for me. And then listen to whatever detailed details/ramblings I talk about. They may sound inconsequential to you, but they’re huge to me.

I am doing the best I can to keep things ‘together’ and look like I’m doing fine whenever possible, but I’m not. It’s like a wave that keeps crashing against me… I get moments of peace when the wave moves back out again, but it always comes back and crashes against me again. It’s slowly making me feel like the shittiest person alive. I wish I had some kind of ‘real’ illness so that people would actually take care of me, because this PPD thing is debilitating in the way that a serious illness is, but no one ‘sees it,’ or they think it’s not a big deal.

You haven’t asked me what this is like for me. You came home with a list of PPD symptoms, and read them off to me, and then got mad when I tried to ‘get into the details’ of what was on your list. I know you keep hoping this will get better and just go away, and so I’m trying to go along with that, but it’s not working. Things don’t change. My day starts out good, but when you leave for work, it starts getting harder. I am trying to pretend, for Evan’s sake, that things are good… but it’s a long day of pretending. I don’t really care about much anymore, and that’s a scary place for me to be. It’s not me.

Do you know how lonely it is here during the day? I don’t know anyone here, I can’t talk with most of the people I know who have had babies because they just don’t get what I’m going through (and that only makes me feel more alienated), the people who haven’t had kids have no idea what to say to me, and Evan just wants all of me, all the time. I have given up all of my business ventures, and while I know I need the time/space… it’s not really time/space, because Evan needs me. And even if Evan was elsewhere, I’d only be left alone with my sadness and anger. So, even ‘getting a break’ isn’t really a break. It just means I’m alone with my depression.

The memory of that last month of pregnancy haunts me, and it never goes away. It’s a flashback that I have in some way, shape, or form many, many times a day. I can’t will it away – I’ve tried – and I can’t rationalize it away – I’ve tried. It’s like this pain that is so deep inside me and it makes me want to just curl up and never have to come out again. It’s like I lost a piece of my innocence, and was totally violated. And yet, I can’t say anything about it, and no one seems to care.

People say “it’s just a scar” and “you have a healthy baby” and “there’s nothing you could have done about it.” Those things don’t change the fact that it made me feel like my freedom, my choice, my body, my motherhood was taken away. It’s what makes me feel like a fraud of a mother, something I have to fight to convince myself is not true every single day. And then the depression just serves to reinforce the fraud feeling even more. So when people say “you just need to meet new people” and “all moms have a tough time at first” or “you just need to find a babysitter” it makes me feel worse… because those things don’t help me.

People don’t ask about me anymore, they don’t ask how I’m feeling… they pay attention to Evan. It’s like I was just this vessel, used for him to come into the world, and now I’ve served my purpose, so I can just be tossed aside. I know that’s not the real deal, but that’s how it feels to me. I miss pregnancy because you used to treat me like a queen, you didn’t get mad at me for needing help, and you gave me help without me asking for it. Now I’m just a depressed mom who doesn’t want to have sex, and I feel like more of a burden than anything.

I know this is more than you expected to have to face this early on in our marriage, but it’s much more than I expected to face. And because my brain and body aren’t working right, I need you to really be there to help me balance myself out. At the very least, when I finally muster up the courage to tell you that I’m not doing OK, I need you to be there with me and support me and let me talk it out. Even if it’s late at night and you want to go to sleep. Because trust me, if it’s late at night, I want to go to sleep too.