Monday, February 13, 2012

Post Partum Wha?

So, I'm watching my 8 year old get ready for bed the other night. What a mature, independent girl she is turning out to be. She does everything on her own (most of the time) and usually without me begging more than 5 times.

I can't believe how far we've come.

Dancing with her is still my all time favorite thing to do with her...It started unexpectedly, in the living room and we've been doing it ever since...

You see, when she was born. I was afraid of her. I was afraid of her cry, her helplessness and most of all I was afraid I was hurting her. Not physically hurting her, I would never do that even in my darkest moments. I was afraid I was hurting her in the way that when two people are so connected and one is, how do you explain, "off"? The other gets screwed up too. Kinda.

I started crying the second she entered this world. Non stop. Crying like I couldn't breathe crying.
Crying like I had lost my mother all over again and I didn't cry right the first time 13 years ago.

That first night, I lay in the hospital bed in the middle of the night hysterical. The nurse came in and told me I had baby blues. I'd be okay in a few days.

But I kept crying.

I didn't get out of bed until they threatened they would catheterize me in order to pee. I peed.

I cried.

I was really suffering physically, my body was a mess. I had a flabby belly, jiggling, painful boobies...a severe swelling in the *ahem* area that really hung down like a penis (no joke, ask my husband). Physically, I was so wrecked no one thought to check out my mental state.

Until I realized they weren't releasing us into the real world until the "social worker" came to talk to me. We talked. She gave me her card and said she'd call me in a few days.

She never called.

On the way home from the hospital, I secretly prayed that my husband would get into a car accident so we could all die and and I wouldn't have to feel this pain anymore.

So I cried.

I was afraid of this little baby who needed me to stay alive, and I knew in my head I wasn't right. I have been diagnosed with depression/anxiety prior to childbirth so I knew this was possible. But the things I was thinking! This wasn't the blues. And I knew it.

I couldn't breast feed. So I was guilty for being a disappointment to all of motherhood. I couldn't comfort her so I was guilty for being an unfit mother. I felt guilty for bringing her into this world. I just felt dark.

And I was afraid of the dark, because that was when the thoughts were the clearest. I would envision my sweet, little newborn slamming against the wall the way paint, or blood splatters and dripping down in chunks. I would envision her being thrown into a wood chipper (by some random person, it was never me) and coming out the other end all bits and blood and pieces.  I would create these elaborate soap operas in my head (all the while, awake) that the house would burn down and we couldn't escape. That she would be kidnapped or I would be killed by intruders.

I saw her face change in the dark, into something unreal, evil like. I would see her mouthing to me that she knew my real story and she would tell everyone the shit job I was doing. I saw creatures watching me in the dark corners of her room so I relinquished the midnight feedings to my poor, overtired husband.

I saw her staring at me as something judgmental and cruel. Like she was sizing me up and realizing that she was dealt a shitty deck. Hence, her colic. It was totally my fault. She cried because she was trying to warn whoever would listen that she needed help. That she was being raised by a lunatic and she needed out.

I cried. She cried. I used to beg her to answer me. "Are you crying because I'm crying or am I crying because you're crying?" She answered with more crying.

Then, after a few weeks, my husband threatened to call a doctor to have me committed and he would raise her himself because he was literally afraid to come home from work every night to find me or worse, the baby, dead.

But I would never hurt her. I knew that. I didn't leave the house alone with her until over a month after she was born. I was afraid I'd get into a car accident and kill her. If I hurt her physically, I had a plan to kill myself because I wouldn't be able to live with that amount of guilt.

Eventually, I called the doctor. I dont know what took me so long. I truly thought this was "normal". I guess my version of "normal" is already skewed, losing my mother at 17 did that to me. But I knew, for her sake, I had to fix things. And things weren't fixing themselves.

It was a long process. Finding the right doctors to really hear me. Finding the right medications that really brought be back to reality. Finding the right frame of mind to accept that there was an issue. The day I was diagnosed with Post Partum Psychosis, I was relieved. I had a real symptom with a title and a progress plan. I could feel joy instead of pain? Over my baby? I could be in love with her? Really?

Really.

While during this recovery process, eight years in the making, I still carry much guilt over not getting help sooner. Missing out on those awesome new baby smells and milestones. I just wanted them all to be overwith quick. I rushed her babyhood away. I regret that. But I do not regret getting help. I got the help I needed when I was ready and I have to take that inside of me and savor it. I have to covet the thought that I was able to enjoy toddler hood and beyond.

I see now, that she never noticed all those insecurities in the beginning. How could she? All she needed was a good swaddle and some formula that worked for her. We finally clicked. One day it just happened. I was having fun with her when my husband came home from work and he couldn't believe his eyes. We were "dancing" in the living room to Bon Jovi and she saw our love radiate for the first time ever.

I still suffer from depression and anxiety, and I'll be on medications the rest of my life for that. And I never did have another child. But I do have this gorgeous little girl with a heart of gold. Who loves animals and music and art and reading. Who has friends and play dates and loves her school with a passion. Who loves me with an immeasurable amount of vigor. And in return, I adore her every pore.

So every night we snuggle in bed together and talk. We bond. We laugh. And those memories come slipping back once in a while, but then I look over at her gorgeous brown eyes and see through them, that they are filled with love. My love. And there's nothing in the world I would change that for.

Ever.




31 comments:

  1. There are no words for the honesty and beauty of this post. Amazingly real and honest. Thank you for showing your heart. It takes courage.

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    1. Thank you Heidi. It took 8 years to write!
      Thanks for visiting.

      Delete
  2. What an amazing, honest, heart wrenching post. Thank you for sharing this. You are a wonderful mother.

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  3. This is a beautiful testimony of hope and healing. I rejoice with you over the progress you have made! :o)

    ~Karen

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    1. Thank you Karen. Progress is ongoing with many setbacks, but I'm doing my best...Thank you for coming over!

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  4. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you went through this. I'm sorry that ANYONE has to go through this without knowing that there is nothing wrong with them, that they are still a good person, and that there is help. Thank you for sharing this. It couldn't be easy to write, and it will undoubtedly help someone.

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    Replies
    1. Rachael...Thank you. I hope it helps someone. I wish I could help more people doing this.

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  5. Thank you. I'm sure this was so hard to share... but it is so perfectly written. Beautiful in it's truth.

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    1. Thanks Colleen. It was hard but worth every word if someone gets something out of it. :)

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  6. I admire your courage and honesty SO much. What a lucky girl your daughter is that you are her mom.

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    1. Thank you Maggie. I wish everyday she knows how much I love her.

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  7. Wow.
    How very honest.
    I can't imagine feeling that way, or how painful and heavy that must have been for you.

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    1. The pain was masked by the fear...together they made a cocktail of crazy....but I hope this post helps someone.

      Thanks for coming over....

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  8. Hi Janet -
    Your story is powerful. You are amazing. And you are helping de-stigmatize this mental illness called postpartum psychosis with your bravery and your example of recovery. It is a real illness with a real path of treatment. Love to you and your family.

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  9. Hello Janet,

    What a wonderful story of healing. As a husband, it is difficult to understand or cope or even know how to help should our wives go struggle with PPD - but there is always hope, and your story proves that. Thank you.

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    1. Thank you Dan.
      I'm trying to get my husband to write something about his perspective on my experience because from what he tells me, I don't know how HE did it...

      Thank you for visiting.

      Delete
  10. Your blog has brought me to tears because I too have depression/anxiety and could understand your hopelessness during that time. 28 years ago, when I bore my daughter the first thought I had was "OMG I can't commit suicide!" Right then I knew something was wrong with me.
    I did get help at that time. I was able to "dance with my daughter too" As long as I understand my diseasement and stay on meds and go through therapy - All is well.
    Having a baby changes your life in one moment.
    I am so glad that you have a happy ending.
    Blessings,
    Donna

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  11. Thank you Donna!!
    I'm so happy to hear you are finding ways to get through it as well. It's a long road.
    But worth the trip.

    Thank you for visiting me today.
    Hope you come back soon.
    xo

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  12. Janet,

    This story was worth the eight year wait. I have to believe that this will bring light into the darkness of other moms. I do hope that you convince your husband to share his side of the story as well. It makes my heart so happy to imagine you cuddled up with your daughter--a true survivor.

    Warmly,
    Ann

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  13. Janet,

    This story was worth the eight year wait. I have to believe that this will bring light into the darkness of other moms. I do hope that you convince your husband to share his side of the story as well. It makes my heart so happy to imagine you cuddled up with your daughter--a true survivor.

    Warmly,
    Ann

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    1. Thank you Ann.
      I really appreciate all your lovely thoughts.

      I DO hope I help just one someone who needs to see the light...

      xo

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  14. Dear Janet,
    Thanks so much for telling your story. I hope it is helpful to many women. It's so important to have competent people available to evaluate for this and get women the help they need right away. Glad you got it, even if late.
    Best,
    Carolyn

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    1. Thank you Carolyn!
      I wish I could help more women out there. I REALLY do.

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  15. Thank you so much for telling your story - there are other women out there who need to know that they're not terrible and that they can survive this. How terrifying that whole process must have been...getting through it and then telling the story shows enormous courage.

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    1. Thank you Colleen.
      I really am trying to help someone out there. I hope it works.

      I'm open for giving any information....

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  16. Hi Janet,
    Is there any way I can talk to you? I, too, am a mother of a 10 month old who has been hit very hard by this, blindsided completely. I am getting therapy and taking an antidepressant, but neither are helping. Was there a certain kind or class of drug that finally helped? I am running out of hope.
    You can reply to me personally if you prefer at francie0222@yahoo.com

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    Replies
    1. Hi there, I emailed you. Please let me know if you received it. I am very curious if you are doing okay. I'm worried about you and I'm here to listen.

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  17. You did a beautiful job of telling your story. I am a survivor of PPP, too. I am trying to decide if I want to go on to have another child or not. It is a tough decision to make because I will likely suffer from PPP again, and you know that already. I am so glad that you and your daughter are happy and healthy now. What a blessing!

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  18. Hi, I'm 23 years old married with two children and I am a survivor of ppp. I didn't have it with my first child I had it with my second. Now that I survived the ppp I can see more clear now on what was going on with me. I was holding a dark secret from my husband and I didn't want to tell him because I didn't think he would forgive me. I had an affair, a little over a year. During my ppp moment I told my husband to take me to this church (my husband didn't know at that time about my affair) and this older lady was there and I was saying some crazy stuff to her but somehow she saw passed it and saw a look in my eyes that I was holding a secret from my husband. To make a long story short I confessed. You guys when I say the truth shall set u free it does actually that. It was a weight lifted off of me. I believe in Jesus love and had faith in it cause boy did I need it when my husband couldn't handle it anymore but we got through it shall no man separate what God put together, to death do us apart. If u believe that u will be just fine. The devil has come to kill, steal and destroy. with jesus love you can overcome anything but you might have to motivate yourself at times but God is with u along the way when you need him

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