Post Partum Depression - My Story

        I don't know anyone who went through post partum depression, that I know of anyway. But then again, I have never asked someone if they are struggling or maybe even paid attention enough to pick up on it. It's kind of a cliché in our society. We see the mother's harm their children in our world and think "How could they do that?" But, we never truly talk about it and it is something that strong, good mothers don't suffer with, right? WRONG. This is my story.

       When I went in for my 6 weeks post-partum visit, my doctor asked me how I was feeling. I burst into tears and said "I think I am having baby blues. I cry all of the time and don't feel like I am bonding with the babies." At this point the babies had only been home from the hospital 2 weeks. She looked at me and said, "It's over two weeks, so the blues are gone and post-partum depression is what you have." She then began to ask me if I had digested and truly had it "hit me" what all I had experienced with the pregnancy, birthing process, and babies in the NICU. Of course my answer was "No." I mean, I was a new mom with twins and a rigorous schedule....who has time to process! She told me it was going to hit me one day and it was going to be rough. After discussion, she put me on an anti-depressant and wanted to see me back in a month.

      That was the beginning of my journey with post-partum depression. I thought of work, I cried; I thought of leaving the house, I cried; I wasn't as bonded with my babies as I thought I would be, I cried; they would cry and my heart wouldn't break like Alan's and my mom's, I felt like an awful mother, I cried. I was exhausted, not where or how I wanted to be as a mother, hormonal, and had yet to even process the past 3 months of my life. Overwhelmed and didn't know where to turn.

       I started on the anti-depressant and waited the two weeks for it to kick in. I didn't like the side effects, though I was starting to feel better, so I quit the medication, thinking I could handle this. I'm a strong person and stubborn. I've got this. I had my follow up and talked with my OB that I thought I was doing better, still not having processed anything. So, life went on......I kept myself busy between baby duty, housework, work, etc. I was/am really good at smiling and doing the southern answer of "everything is going really well." Knowing deep in my heart that I was building up so many struggles.

       Dr. Tony Harbin, the OB/GYN in Dalton and a close friend of mine, once said, "Every person has a coffee cup. Some are bigger than others, but life is like pouring coffee into that cup continuously. Eventually, that cup is going to overfill and you are going to have to have help." I tell this to patients all the time who feel bad that they are having hardships in life. And, it honestly brought me comfort.

       Over the next few months, life got busier as I went back to work. I had a very hard time leaving the boys just knowing I wasn't there for them and my desire to be a stay at home mom wasn't a reality. It sunk me deeper in. Then, I had some hardships with people not understanding that I cannot/could not be on my best game every day. It's hard to put forth the energy of being chipper when honestly, all I wanted was to be in solitude. Being in a city with none of my family brought even bigger sorrows (even though my mom is always up here, I miss not having my dad and her down the road to just stop by). Because of my consumption with work prior to babies, I hadn't made any friends in Nashville, so being able to call up a friend and go out for a night wasn't an option. Then add on the stress of being in a blended family, family drama (which we all have), and the struggle of hardly seeing my husband due to travels and work schedules. (None of this is intended for complaining because I am truly blessed, but it is my story and it adds up.) Life seemed to be getting more difficult and more difficult.

      About 5 months ago, things started becoming more than overwhelming, again. I was crying at the drop of a hat at about anything. I could fly off the handle at the smallest inconvenience or disagreement. It only grew worse and my usual social self became quite reclusive and I began becoming really shy. I wanted to be all alone, but I wanted to have people care and friends to interact with. I had no energy and no desire to do anything. I then, began having panic and anxiety attacks. I had never had these before in my life. It scared me. I was terrified and terrified this was happening to me. I couldn't even go into a church event without freaking out and having an anxiety attack and want to turn around and go home. I don't know who I had become. And, at about this time, since I had so many days alone at home, it hit me. Every emotion, physical symptom, stress, reality of twin pregnancy, bed rest, multiple complications from delivery and health complications of myself, NICU babies, twins, etc. hit me. I ran into this wall and I could no longer keep my head above water. I was literally drowning in emotions. All of the "processing" was happening. Hopeless and helpless.

         My support system became very concerned and finally Alan put his foot down. He told me it was time to go back to the doctor and get some help. I resisted. I'm proud of myself for being a strong person who can handle anything. I didn't want to appear weak, unable to handle life, or even a complainer. But, we both knew it was deeper than that. And, I realized in moments of prayer and reflection that it is a bigger thing for me to get help then to keep drowning in my attempts to stay strong.

        About this time, I had the opportunity to join a mom's group at church. Now, it wasn't easy, but I was excited. That is when one of my anxiety attacks hit and I literally said to the babies when walking in, what are we doing here? Let's go home. I had tears in my eyes and could hardly breathe walking in. Since when did I get social anxiety? This semester, the series Bible study is called a Beautiful Mess. And man, does God know how to talk directly to me when I am in need of Him most. It was speaking (and is continuing to speak) directly to me. It was like all of my thoughts and concerns were told and the authors wrote to them. A crack in the isolation. God knows what I need. Other women feel like me, some days hopeless, insufficient, unworthy, a mess. He seems to always lead me to the Bible and scripture or a Bible study I need, just at the right time.

       I finally gave in and was seen by my family medicine doctor. She sees the boys and Alan and myself, so has been able to follow us over the past few years. She was encouraging to me. She reassured me that I am not weak but oh so strong to be able to parent twin boys and hold a full-time job. We talked and discussed and decided it was best at this point to start on a different anti-depressant without so many side effects. At this point, this is what I need to help and I am not ashamed.....or at least I hope I am not since I am sharing this with the world.

      What I have realized is, it is okay to receive help. It is okay to ask and say I need you. It is okay to not be able to do or handle everything and every situation (I am remembering my post when I was pregnant regarding help during bed rest). We all need support and being a mother is no different. So, if you are struggling from post-partum depression, I encourage you to receive the help you need.