My Journey With Postpartum Depression Part Two
I have suffered through 2 bouts of postpartum depression (PPD). The first time was after JP was born in 2016. I wrote about my initial experience here. It’s quite eye-opening to reread through my first experience with something we didn’t know existed.
Regardless of what we called it at the time, this struggle gave me the kick in the pants I needed to seek out therapy and we were blessed to find a great Catholic therapist.
Fast forward a few years and we found ourselves right back in the same spot after T was born in 2019. Unlike JP, T was an easy baby. T wasn’t colicky, he slept fairly well, and was (and still is) super easy going. He had the sweetest face and his siblings doted on him constantly.
Yet, I was still struggling. Sure, I could probably have blamed it on external factors: job stress, sleep deprivation, 4 kids. But something in my gut told me this was bigger.
The things I was thinking, the way I was talking…it was important for me and for my family that I address the changes we were all experiencing.
Gratefully, this time around, we had a better idea of what we were facing. We knew it’s name and we knew that I had to go back to therapy.
If you have or are experiencing something similar, I urge you to try to think of these things.
Four Things To Know When You Have PPD (or another mental illness)
1) You are not your diagnosis, but your diagnosis is a part of who you are right now
While the silent voices in your head are begging to differ, you are not depression. You are not a failure. You are not hopeless. Your family is not better off without you. You are not depression.
You are suffering. You are experiencing a mental state that you are not accustom to. You are feeling not-yourself.
PPD is sneaky. It doesn’t ring the doorbell in tears with top bun frizz hair-a-mess, clothes unmatched and enter your home with all of its obvious baggage cluttering up your already chaotic house. It slowly changes the way you perceive, think, and feel. It almost seems rational, especially when postpartum, because on the surface, you’re right…there are diapers everywhere, you haven’t showered in days, and you may or may not have brushed your teeth today…you are living in a bit of a mess.
But what PPD does is change how you mentally respond to that mess. Instead of the mess being a temporary result of (hello?!) adding a new person into your family, one that can’t do a single thing for themselves but cry or poop, PPD convinces you its because you’re inadequate. Without a doubt, you’re incapable of taking care of a single thing, let alone yourself, a new baby, and the rest of your family…stop bothering to try!
This is not who you are. But it is how you think and feel right now.
But let me clear one thing up for you, sweet sister-friend of mine: You are not this person PPD is telling you that you are. You have a battle to face. It will require you to fight daily, nay, hourly. It will take a lot out of you. But it is not you you are fighting, it is a mental illness that has a name, that has weaknesses, and that can be overcome.
2) There is no quick fix
I wish I could say that once I realized I had PPD I was cured. Isn’t acceptance the only key to recovery?!
Battling PPD, for me, required medication and therapy.
The medication helped me to regulate the natural, but over dramatic, hormone fluctuation of a drastic drop in progesterone. Medication alone was not enough.
I also needed to verbalize the nastiness that was swirling in my head. I needed to say the lies and hear them out loud. And I needed to learn tools to recognize them as lies instead of misperceived truths. I needed to externally process what I had been shamefully keeping hidden from myself, my family, and my friends for fear of them being true.
I also needed skills and strategies to strengthen my resolve when my “failures” felt insurmountable, because my slamming doors and just up and leaving were rightfully worrisome to my family. When the ideas of “the right way to handle myself” included self harm, I needed tools to work through those moments in one piece.
I needed to be reminded, often, that my family was blessed to have me…and not just “recovered Monica”, but “PPD Monica”, too.
And the combination of the two took time and effort. A worthwhile investment, for sure.
3) Communication takes courage
This should not and cannot be a silent, independent battle. While your husband cannot relate, your burden is his as well. And he deserves to know what you’re facing.
There were nights I’d lay awake in mental agony and say “I don’t want to be here anymore. I desperately want to just get up and run away. My body is telling me to run.” I can vividly remember the actual physical urge to get up, walk out the door, slam it behind me, and sprint. I had no destination in mind. I just wanted to escape myself.
But in speaking my feelings and allowing my partner into my pain, I was no longer alone. And he could then know, not necessarily understand but at least know, a little bit of what was going on invisibly inside of me.
We signed up to be a team. We made the choice to be family. And we committed to continue to make that decision every day. How blessed am I for his “yes”?!
And while I was used to having most of my -ish together, it was his turn to carry more of the load. “In sickness and in health”. As hard and as humbling as it was for me to pass along a cross to the person I loved most in this world, the person I wanted to burden the least, it was in doing just that and experiencing his response that allowed us to fall even more in love.
It takes courage to let people in to your suffering. But it is in that where true compassion (to “suffer with”) is unleashed.
Being open about my PPD allowed us to courageously suffer and battle together.
4) Be gentle
Be gentle with yourself. This is not you, this is something you are experiencing. Healing is not linear; it will take some trial and error, you will have good days and then some not so good ones on your journey. Be gentle on the good days to not overdo it (remember you are also adjusting to a new kid!). And be gentle on the not-so-good-days. You’re doing your best.
Be gentle with your spouse. This is not you, but this is something they are also experiencing. Support is not perfect; it will take some trial and error, sometimes they’ll still be a knuckle head. When you’re able, show extra affection in thanksgiving for their love. And when you’re not able, chose your words carefully. They’re doing their best.
Be gentle with your new babe. This is not you, but this is something they are also experiencing. Babies have no handbook; they are unpredictable and needy and squishy and cute and loud. They’re doing their best.
If you feel as though this or any other mental health issue is a burden you may be carrying, know you are not alone. Seek help. Speak to a professional. In all cases of mental health concerns, I encourage you to be brave and reach out; do not fight the invisible battle alone.
Fiat. - Monica
Resources:
To find a therapist near you: https://www.catholictherapists.com/
Progesterone and PPD: https://www.naprotechnology.com/depression.htm