What Postpartum Depression Looked Like For Me
I used to think everyone who was recovering quickly from having a baby, having fun with their toddlers, or who was gushing about being a Mom was putting a filter on their life or simply lying. I had no idea I was the one living with a filter. Motherhood IS hard but it doesn't have to be as hard as what we seem to accept as ‘normal’.
Sometimes those feelings of ‘hard’ are signals that something’s not right. For me, each pregnancy, each birth, and each postpartum stage looked and felt completely different. The commonality amongst them all was Postpartum Depression & Anxiety.
Women may experience postpartum depression in different ways. They may have classic symptoms or symptoms we don't hear about as often. From the outside, they may even seem totally fine. That’s the reason I feel I should share my experience. Just in case it looks like this for anyone else, here is what postpartum depression looked like for me.
BABY NUMBER ONE
My first pregnancy was tough. I had morning sickness the entire time, I retained water like crazy, gained 70lbs, and would swell so badly that by the end of the day my feet would balloon over my flip flops. The insomnia, constipation, and exhaustion were so hard. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy with tons of dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. He started smiling day 2 and was the happiest baby in the world. I loved him so much. So why was I crying like all the time?
It wasn't just regular crying, either. I would sob for hours and the cries felt so deep, it felt like my soul needed to grieve. I would feed my baby, lay him down and just be inconsolable for the next 2 hours until he woke up again to eat. I became fixated on doing things "right" and was constantly worried I was going to mess up my baby.
I was terrified to fall asleep when I was home alone with him because I knew he was going to die and it'd be my fault. I could only sleep when my husband was home. I trusted he would wake up and rescue the baby if anything happened. Each morning when he left for work, I would sit in my rocking chair with our baby in my arms and cry because I knew that was the last time I was ever going to see him. I was now a single mother.
I had horribly dark intrusive thoughts about what a monster I was and that I shouldn't have ever been allowed to have children. There was even a time when I was nursing my son to sleep, looked down and saw a spider on his face. I snatched it and squeezed it as hard as I could. I opened my fingers to see nothing. To this day, I have no idea if the spider was real.
After a few months, I just went numb. The crying stopped but nothing really changed. I didn't feel joy or sadness, excited or let down, I was just...there. I was constantly feeling overwhelmed and subdued simultaneously.
I used to love to go out with friends or meet new people but I just didn't want to. I wasn't myself. I thought motherhood had changed me, showed me who I really was. I was a sad person who didn't have friends. I often thought my family would be better off without me, that anyone would be a better mother than I was.
I'd sometimes reach out to other moms or friends for help and would ask if what I was feeling was normal. I was told I was simply having a hard time adjusting to motherhood.
After a year, I finally started telling my husband how I was really feeling. Like really feeling. That level of transparency was terrifying. I was so scared he’d think I was a monster, and that he wouldn’t want to leave the baby with me anymore. But he was perfect. He held me while I cried, felt heartbroken that I'd been struggling that way alone for so long. We started looking for help together.
That was the first time I realized I might have something wrong with me. Needing help was proof that maybe I wasn’t normal. I went to therapy and got more comfortable expressing my darkest thoughts and learned tools to help me navigate what I’d been feeling. I started to feel better. Not whole, but better.
BABY NUMBER TWO
With my second I spent time during my pregnancy preparing for postpartum depression (ppd). I knew since I'd had it with my first I was at a high risk of having it again. I read What Am I Thinking: Having a Baby After Postpartum Depression and found a therapist I connected with so I'd have a safety net ready. The anxiety began when I was pregnant and grew after he was born.
While pregnant, I just had a constant feeling of stress, like I was forgetting something or something bad was about to happen. Therapy had taught me to work through those feelings but after my son was born, the gnawing concern turned into panic.
I would have intense panic attacks, hyperventilate, and feel as though my brain stepped aside to my emotions. I remember feeling like I was watching myself just melt down. "This is an overreaction," my brain would say. But then my heart would be like, "Nah, man, we've GOT to let these feelings flow, man." It wasn’t letting them flow, though. It was like a fire hydrant had burst and we were all drowning in the anger, fear, and stress.
I remember once (because of my color blindness) I couldn’t see my baby’s binky against the crib sheet. I laid him down and was looking all over the floor, behind the crib, and under the dresser even - all the while he screamed. Minutes went by that felt like hours and I became more and more frantic as I searched for that pacifier in vain. Panic set in and I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I laid down and cried as I completely fell apart. My husband heard the commotion and came to see what was wrong. When I told him I couldn’t find the binky, he reached down and plucked it out of the crib. “You mean this one?” It was evident I wasn’t ok.
But because I didn't have the extreme sadness, crying spells, or as dark of thoughts, I thought I was getting better. Little did I know the ppd wasn't healing. It was just changing.
BABY NUMBER THREE
After years of parenting and therapy, I still wasn't ready for what ppd looked like after the third baby. It had changed yet again. This time it was rage. I never wanted to be a Mom who yelled at her kids or made their children feel like they had to walk on eggshells for fear they'd set her off. But here I was. The smallest thing would trigger me and I'd be screaming.
One time I was so enraged, I just HAD to hit something. I went into the bathroom and hit the side of the tub so badly my palms bruised. I never hit my children. Ever. But I hated feeling like they were afraid I might. I hated who I'd become. And I felt totally out of control.
I regularly thought my family would be better off without me. Denver came home to me sobbing on the floor regularly and I'd be utterly exhausted. After 8 months postpartum, I sunk to a lower low than I'd ever been. It would hurt to get out of bed and I would just cry for hours. I would lie in bed, wishing I could become one with the mattress or just evaporate. I'd hear my kids fighting or yelling downstairs and I'd just sob because I couldn't get up to take care of them. I knew I was failing.
That was my rock bottom.
After 5 years of trying to get better through healthy diet, running, therapy, and grit, I finally called my doctor. When the receptionist answered I blurted out, "I don't even know if y'all are the ones I need to be talking to but I don't think I'm ok." They did two evaluations right there on the phone and got me on a waitlist to meet with a specialist.
Making that phone call was the scariest thing I've EVER done. I was afraid they'd take my kids away, admit me into a facility, or even worse...they'd tell me there wasn't anything wrong with me. Motherhood really was just that bad. I was terrified they wouldn't be able to help me.
That was actually the beginning of my real healing. I started taking a mild dose of zoloft to hold me over until I could get into see a specialist and things started changing. In a matter of days, I was fine. I was myself again. I continued working with the specialist to tweak the zoloft to find the right dosage for me. We also added in Gabapentin to help with the anxiety and anger. I couldn’t believe how much better I felt.
BABY NUMBER FOUR
This pregnancy was a surprise and we became pregnant after moving across the country during Covid. I was already juggling so many things but losing that feeling of control over my own body triggered my anxiety in a very familiar, very big way.
I was constantly worried and angry. I had a hard time connecting to my kids and anyone else around me. I even took a break from being present online because I just couldn’t handle it at all. Because I recognized my symptoms and knew this wasn’t something I could conquer on my own, I reached out for help immediately.
I started by finding a new psychiatrist who specializes in postpartum women and uses both natural and medicinal methods. Then I found a therapist, set up my plan to make sure I had time and space to rest, exercise, and process as needed…and after the birth of my baby, I still fell into the pit. Fortunately I had everything in place so even though I fell, I had so many safety nets, harnesses, and sherpas ready to catch me and lead me out of the abyss. I started feeling more like myself after about 8 months, which is way shorter than any of my previous postpartum periods.
I switched from zoloft to natural supplements under the direction of my doctors, practiced meditation, worked out 2 times a week, and made sure I talked to peers via Marco Polo and FaceTime.
WHAT MOTHERHOOD LOOKS LIKE NOW
Motherhood is a complete 180 from what it used to be.
I still get frazzled or my patience wears thin. Four kids is a lot and I’m only human! Sometimes I speak louder than I need to. But y'all, I don't scream, I don't bang my hands, I don't burst into tears for hours. I'm me again.
I laugh more easily, I can connect with strangers and focus on how to help that new friend feel loved. I'm active, ambitious, and spunky again. I re-lit my fire. Boy, did I miss this girl. I never realized how far I'd fallen until I got back on top and could look at my journey of recovery.
This is the way motherhood should be. Perfect? No. Absolutely not. But it should 100% feel like it’s YOURS. Even as a mother, you should feel like you.
If you don’t feel like yourself or you feel like motherhood revealed the dark, secret reality of you, please go have a chat with someone. Start with a trusted doctor or a friend, find some helpful accounts to follow on social media. Just start somewhere.
Motherhood doesn't have to be as hard or as miserable as we sometimes think it has to be. It can be hard and still be really happy.
