I Survived Postpartum Depression (PPD)

My personal experience with maternal mental illness was with postpartum depression (PPD) – a condition I describe as being like a slow-moving fog of darkness that sneaks up on you until it completely consumes you.

PPD symptoms vary from person to person, so that also makes recognizing it very complicated when it happens to you. There is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to PPD.

I have always tried to be very self-aware. Psychologists have been a part of my life on and off since I was young. Any time I felt emotionally imbalanced, I would go to therapy for a bit, talk about what was going on, and quickly get the all clear.

When I was pregnant, I told my OB/GYN that I feared I might experience PPD. He recommended a psychiatrist and I started my sessions before I even gave birth to our son. She asked me some questions, some of which I thought were odd, but I answered honestly. It was great. It was also the last set of appointments I went to for a long time.

The Onset of My Postpartum Depression

When I gave birth, I felt that I had to be this perfect mom, and I thought I wasn't supposed to feel anything except fantastic. However, in reality, it was possibly the season of my life where I felt the most scared and alone.

My PPD presented itself in the form of extreme sadness, followed by emotional numbness with a hefty serving of obsessiveness and anxiety. At first, I cried a lot. I had a routine and if something came up last minute and interfered, I would cancel everything else I had to do that day because I felt overwhelmed. I would take any excuse if it meant staying home in my pajamas.

Eventually, I got tired of crying and began to swallow the lump I would feel build up in my throat to avoid the tears. After swallowing my feelings for a while, my emotions just completely shut off. I became a robot going through all the motions but never truly absorbing any of the moments. As robotic as I was, I still felt anxious and became obsessive.

My obsessiveness made me think things like, “if I don't rock my baby precisely ten times before putting him down, something terrible will happen.” Things you see in horror movies.

Anxiety would keep me up all night checking to ensure the baby was ok, even when I had a 24-hour baby nurse six days a week. The fear that something terrible would happen would send me into chest-clenching, heart-racing, cold-sweating, and no-breathing panic attacks.

How could I be that anxious and be emotionally numb at the same time? I have no idea.

Receiving Support and Asking For Help

Support and help are critical in motherhood regardless of whether you are battling postpartum depression or not. I had support. The problem was that I refused to ask for help. I felt incredibly alone and felt that I couldn't be honest about what I was feeling because of what I assumed people might think.

Would they think I'm an unfit mother? What if they take my child from me?

So I waited. I thought I would wake up one day and it would vanish. Except I was now six months in and it didn’t. I finally reached my breaking point. Turning to my husband I said, "There is something wrong...with me. I don't feel anything. I feel like my emotions are underneath a boulder that keeps sinking deeper in the sand, and the more it sinks, the less I feel."

He grabbed my hand and calmly said, "I think it's time we call the therapist.” I had spent almost six months locked away in my brain before I agreed to get help. When I went back to my therapist, who officially diagnosed me with postpartum depression, anxiety, and obsessive-compulsive disorder, we decided the best thing for me would be to start medication.

Time went on, and I felt a literal weight lift off my shoulders. The boulder was gone, the dark fog disappeared. As the medication did what it came in to do, we also worked on different tools to help support my mental health. I learned about the importance of prioritizing my self-care through this whole experience. When I started to nourish myself, I was then able to nourish my family better. 

Turning Pain into a Platform

Once I was better, I began to speak out about my experience. I received two very different reactions.

The first one was one of judgment. I heard things like, "I could NEVER be sad after having a baby,” or "How could you act that way when you have a baby to care for?” or even, "Why would you let yourself feel that way?” These people did not have bad intentions. They simply did not know about postpartum mood and anxiety disorders and its very real affects.

The second response I received was one of compassion. I found that some moms struggled with their mental health but didn't speak up about it because of the stigma. They felt the same way I did. They didn't want to be judged.

I decided to begin to advocating for maternal mental health. The stigma has such a stronghold and many moms feel they have to suffer alone and in silence. It's crucial for those of us who have been there to share our stories. The more we share, the more other moms will know they are not alone, and it's ok — and good and important—to ask for help.

No mother should feel alone when struggling with her mental health. Motherhood is hard enough! We need to empower each other and support one another.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. I encourage you to reach out and take hold of the support and help that is available to you. While it may feel daunting, there truly is light on the other side of the darkness you may be feeling.