This is my story.
Saturday, May 22, 2010 at 09:51AM 2008.
My pregnancy was fairly smooth. I had the typical morning sickness the first trimester. I lost a molar. I had a couple UTI’s. I grew foot fungus. My hormones went wack-o. My husband was supportive. My doctor, notsomuch. You can read about my unfortunate and, most likely, unnecessary C-Section here. The result of said C-Section was the beginning of my feelings of inadequacy and failure as a new mom. But, this is normal, right? We all feel inadequate at times, right? Yes, of course. It’s when the inadequacy turns into shame, which turns into guilt, which translates to horrible anxiety … which results in the inability to function … that you start to wonder what the hell is going on.
My first few months of motherhood were a blur of fatigue and having the life sucked out of my boobs pretty much constantly. I was a little bit obsessive about keeping track of everything. I would count the hours of sleep at night and then obsess about how long the naps the following day should be in order to add up to the amount my Dr. Ferber chart says for a daily total. I would write down the times of feeding, which side I fed from, how many poopy diapers I changed, etc, etc. With time, I relaxed a little bit.
2009.
Fast forward to 5 months postpartum. We flew from Mexico to Oregon for Christmas. I was filled with so much anxiety about flying and traveling and winter flu season and the time change that my sleep started to be affected. I tried to enjoy my vacation with my family that I don’t see very often, but I was overwhelmed with all the worry and anxiety that was overcoming my mind and body. After a two-week visit we had a red-eye flight home to Guadalajara (Mistake #1: Anxious people should NOT fly red-eyes with an infant) and would be moving in the days following our arrival (Mistake #2: Anxious people should NOT move during the first few months of motherhood). The night before our travel day I couldn’t sleep. No, I wasn’t restless; no I didn’t fall in and out of sleep. I DIDN’T SLEEP AT ALL. This was the beginning of a six-month battle with severe anxiety, depression & insomnia, benzodiazepine weaning & withdrawal, and finally finding the road to healing.
Those first few weeks of “insomnia – hell”, as I like to call it, should have landed me in a psychiatrist’s office immediately. But, instead I suffered in silence for FIVE LONG MONTHS. Well, not complete silence. I should mention that my husband dragged me to Urgent Care because I was acting like a crazy person (due to extreme anxiety and not sleeping at all, and I mean AT ALL), which is where I got my prescription for the benzodiazepine that eventually somewhat-regulated my sleep and anxiety. (Note: We live in Mexico. Don’t try this at home.)
I endured five months of taking the benzo and hoping and praying it would make me sleep and make me well, and waking up with extreme guilt and shame. I was still breastfeeding during this time, and I felt like a horrible mother for possibly exposing my child to a narcotic. (For the record, I wouldn’t feed until about 10 hours after taking the med…but, still…it’s a drug) The bottom line is – I was trying to help myself. I thought I could do it on my own. My support system was my husband. That was it. (My dear family is wonderful, but we live in another country. There’s only so much you can do). No ONE person should have to carry the load of caring for an infant and a depressed mother and work full-time. My husband is a saint, by the way. (Mistake #3: Anxious people… or any people… should not have children without a support system).
In May of 2009 when I finally saw a psychiatrist I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. That was my first step on the road to healing. I endured months of unnecessary suffering. This could have been avoided had I humbled myself and had the strength to ask for help from a professional. The irony of it is that during this time I was in grad school studying counseling. I realized what I hypocrite I was, and I went to see a counselor, too. Once again… weight… shoulders….lifted.
2010.
May.
It’s been a year since my first step to healing. I’m many steps further. Have I arrived? I’m getting there. Patience, people. There is no cookie cutter answer or timeline for healing. It will look different for each individual. What’s important to me now…. now that I have some time under my belt, and time brings healing and perspective, is this: I can and will be whole. During the worst of my PPD/A, my number one fear was that I would never be myself again. I would never be normal. I would never be whole. What my PPD/A journey has taught me is that, YES, I will be myself again. But, surprise, surprise: it’s an entirely different self. It’s a scarred self. It’s a broken self. But it’s also a more compassionate self. It’s a more understanding self. It’s a kinder, more loving self. It’s a wiser self.
I’m a mom now. I’ll never be the same again.
Reader Comments (6)
Thank you so much for sharing your story about PPD!!! You will get to being yourself again...like you said it takes time. PPD does suck balls, and it does change you...but I think that us women who get PPD, we change for the better. We are not only our "old" selves, but we are STRONGER, BRAVER, WISER....you'll make it through.
Thanks again for sharing your story!!!
Your story is amazing. YOU are amazing! Thank you for sharing so you can help others know that they are NOT alone! Hugs to you for being brave!
Thank you so much for sharing. I am almost 6 months PP and am just beginning my healing stages. I too am studying psychology and finally decided this was getting out of hand. I am glad to hear there is hope. I have not blogged about my birthing experience yet, but it was very similar to yours. I did labor however, but did not progress fast enough for my son. He was ready to be born and my body was not. It was a breath of fresh air to hear someone has been there before me. Thank you again for having the strength to post about it.
Wish i could hop on the R-24 and ride down Lopez Mateos and give you a BIG HUG and then we could take our babies and go to that metal 70ish park you have to pay to get into=)
Thanks for sharing you story. As I was reading the timeline i also thought of the other things that were happening at those times. I remember hanging up some sign/bulletin board thing by the tiendita and you were so hungry i said maybe you're pregnant and 2 weeks later..... I was right!
I remember what a beautiful pregnant woman you were and how your swore of agua frescas and started walking to work in your latter days.
i remember being so thankful for all the great IMS tips/ "being preggo in Mexico" advice you always gave me.
I remember holding Solomon when he was "fresh." I remember the first time we tried to go on a walk with the BOB stroller and use the pulley Nan made to lower it from the Bravo's roof and the pulley broke or something, but that didn't stop us and we got Nieve.
I remember walking to that little natural store in the Glorietta in Las Fuentes to get some natural sleeping stuff before you went on the meds and the crazy place was closed so you had to go back another time!
I remember going to that cafe were we ate on the street in Provedencia with you and Nan and Solo and Aaron before Clara was born and then Daniel's after she was born.
I remeber you, Nan, and Solo visiting us for a long lazy Saturday afternoon not long after Clara was born and watching Solo play with the paper!
I remember the crazy day when you and Solo came over and we walked to Roby's and got lecheros then went back to my place and you did your online class in the living room with the babies doing their thing=) Then you had to go to Lincoln for something.... we had Clara and Solo paint birthday card for Charla and we went to her puebla that evening....... THAT was a full day
I'm so sorry you were hurting during this time.....wish I had known the degree of the pain at the time..... but I was there and we had some good memories too! So if you ever find its hard to remember the good memories just ask..... there's more where that came from! and give that saint-like husband of yours a HUGE hug from me!
Thank you for sharing your story. I'm glad your well on the way to full recovery!
beautiful and honest! i love it!!