Postpartum Depression: Part 1

After I had my sweet Aubrey, I was able to emotionally hold it together while she was in the NICU. However, the moment she came home (8 days after she was born), I just couldn't do it. At first I thought it was exhaustion, hormones, and the stress of having a new baby. I quickly learned that it was more than just these factors combined.
I had the perfect textbook definition of postpartum depression. (Read about it HERE)

Six months after the birth of Aubrey, a good friend of mine wondered how I had already lost all my baby weight. I told her it was a bad case of the baby blues. Then she made a remark that she wished she could have it in order to lose her extra baby weight. I wanted to look her in the eyes and tell her simply, "No. No you don't. It is something terrible and I would never wish it upon anyone." Losing some extra weight is one thing.
Wanting to have depression & anxiety to lose the weight is another thing. 

 Why is postpartum depression rarely discussed? Maybe people don't talk about it for the sake of looking strong. Maybe people see it as a personal thing and want to keep it a private matter. Either way, postpartum depression isn't a character flaw or a weakness. It just happens due to giving birth, which causes a huge shift in hormones and changes life as we know it. When I was struggling through my baby blues, I tried to find someone who had written their story down. I needed to find someone I could relate to. Someone who had gone through the same things I was going through. I didn't find any. So I'm sharing my story, in the hope that it will help someone who simply needs to know they are not alone. 

 I first changes in me that I noticed was mood swings, crying, and anxiety. I would be feeding my baby and then start to cry. I couldn't help the tears from falling. One minute I was happy and positive, the next minute I was sad and negative. When my husband went back to work, I felt completely alone. I hated it. I cried every time he left- even if it was just a short trip to the store. These feelings quickly turned into anxiety. I had a constant pit in my stomach that rarely went away. I also grieved for my old life- my life with just Will and I. I questioned why we decided to even have a baby in the first place. I wanted my old life of free time, more sleep, long showers, and being a college student back. I was so focused on wanting my old life back, I couldn't find happiness in my new life. And then I started to resent my baby. Even though it was Will & I who had made her (*wink wink*), I was so frustrated with her for being born and changing my life. Keep in mind that while I was pregnant, going through labor, and while she was in the NICU, I wanted her. I wanted her so badly. My heart yearned for her to come and bring joy. Yet now I wished her back. I loved her in a way, but I didn't really love her. I was in such a dark place that the thought of her getting sick enough to go back to the NICU was totally okay with me. I honestly felt like darkness was constantly hovering over me and no light or happiness could get through. I shared my story with a few people, but no one truly knew just how bad my depression was. Not even my husband. I was just too ashamed to admit my inner thoughts and feelings. 

 My husband and I decided that we wanted to try and control my depression by means other than medication. Not that we didn't see it as a wonderful help, but simply because we wanted to try some other things first. I thought that positive thoughts, uplifting music, and lots of praying would make it go away. It didn't. 

 Matthew chapter 7 verses 7-9:

" Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?"

 I have always felt a close connection with God, so I just didn't understand why He would let me suffer so bad. I asked. I sought. I knocked. But nothing came when I most needed it. I honestly thought God had given me a stone of suffering. 

Finally after 3 1/2 months, hope came. Not when I wanted it. Not in my time. But God's mercy came in His time. He gave me bread, but I thought it was a stone. Before He could tell me yes, He had to tell me no. If He had given me what I wanted, I would not have learned the lessons He wanted me to learn. 

 I learned what real depression and anxiety was. I have a greater understanding of what my older sister felt with her postpartum depression. I can relate better to my younger brother's struggle with anxiety. I have shared my story with my best friend who is expecting her first child in case she has similar feelings. And now I sharing it with you. Whether you can relate or not, there may come a time that someone you know and love may be suffering. And they will need help, love, and understanding.

 My advice on how to cope with postpartum depression is coming in part 2.