No humor here tonight people, it's confession time... for reals...
The movement toward awareness and treatment of Postpartum Depression grows by the day. Thank goodness for that because mothers with PPD need serious, immediate help so they don't, well, for lack of a better way to put it, kill their babies. It happens, you know. We read about it or hear on the news about mothers who drown their kids in bathtubs, shake their babies till they die, or run their cars over cliffs while struggling with undiagnosed Postpartum Depression.
For those who don't know, PPD is purely chemical. It's a brain response to giving birth and the hormone fluctuations that happen during that time. Symptoms are pretty clear cut; wanting to harm you baby, excessive exhaustion, anger, anxiety, trouble with self-care, loss of appetite, etc. PPD is scary and requires immediate attention and, often, medication to balance the brain and get mama back to happy, healthy self.
There are many ways to decrease the likelihood of developing Postpartum Depression. I have done quite a bit (breastfeeding, communicating with my partner, yoga) to prevent the development and PPD and I'm thankful that with both births, I haven't experienced anything more than a weepy day or two as hormones worked themselves out.
Right now, however, at 7 months postpartum. I'm depressed. For real. And it's not PPD. And there's no one to help me.
Why on earth would I of all people be depressed? I have two beautiful, healthy children, an incredible husband with whom I maintain an open, honest, intimate relationship, a job that I couldn't love more or be more proud of, and a whole host of accomplishments to brag about, if probed. What do I have to be down about?
That's just the thing. People don't understand depression, where it comes from, why, and what to do about it! Especially for mothers and especially when everything seems to be going so well for them!
Here's the deal... I have a lot working against my mental health and I'm there, I'm diagnosable, I'm sick.
Dysthymia runs in my family. That means I'm genetically predisposed to be mildly depressed pretty much all the time. While I don't believe I've ever had an episode prior to this one, I'm a licensed counselor for goodness sake, I know depression when I see it, even and especially, in myself.
Also, I'm fucking tired. In case you haven't heard, Annabelle wakes up every 2 hours all night long. She is 7 months old and has never slept more than a 4 hour stretch which has happened twice in her life. Before she was born, I was pregnant (we know pregnancy makes sleep a fantasy we try to dream about if we could just get to that illusive REM cycle). Before I was pregnant, I was up nursing Emmaline 2 or 3 times a night (which continued through my first trimester of my second pregnancy, by the way). When I say I'm tired, I don't mean I feel like I've pulled an all-nighter. I mean I feel like my eyeballs are made of sandpaper, my arms are not physically strong enough to carry my child, and I can no longer stick to our grocery budget because simple math eludes me. We're talking almost 3 years now (if you include my pregnancy with Emmaline which started in March of 2010) of severely compromised sleep. That leads to insanity... or narcolepsy... or depression.
Something else? I don't get breaks. Ever. Okay, that's not fair. About once a month (maybe), I convince the husband to let me leave the house for 2 hours to go shopping, go work at Starbucks, or go to a yoga class. That's it. I don't get my haircut or my nails done or even get to go to the gym on a regular basis! When the girls go to sleep at night (or if I can get them to nap at the same time), I work. A lot. And I love my job but it's not a break.
In addition, I'm still fat. Don't hate me for saying that, I'm being honest. I have the hardest time losing weight while breastfeeding. Add to that the fact that I crave sugar all the time from not sleeping and it would be unsafe for me to do intense physical exercise because I'm so tired I'd probably impale myself on a piece of equipment or trip on the running path, giving myself massive road rash, and there's no way I could lose weight right now.
And if we're being really honest, and I always am, our living situation sucks so bad right now. Because of Annabelle's awful sleep habits, we've given her our room and we sleep on our air mattress (with a hole in it) in the middle of the living room. Emma needs her own room, she wakes up a couple times a night sometimes without a roommate, we couldn't move Belle in there with her. Belle was waking up at every little peep we made in our bed when we shared our room with her. We tried moving her to the living room but her cries echoed down the hall and woke up her sister. So... we sleep in the living room on a fucking air mattress.
I hate my life.
I have no patience.
The other night, after being up 5 times for 3 nights in a row, I told Ryan that I hate our babies sometimes. I wasn't lying. I love my daughters more than anything in the world but the other day I got so mad at them because they wouldn't stop whining and crying and there was really no reason why that I kicked and broke the drawer below our oven. I'm not a violent person. I'm depressed.
I know things will get better. We're closing on our house soon and will be moving as early in March as possible. I'll have an office and Annabelle will have her own room AND we'll have a yard with a fence for Harley and the girls to play in. We'll get our bed back. Belle will be older and sleeping better and, if she's not, she's just going to have to cry it out for a waking or two a night (after all, she's got more than enough baby fat on her to sustain her for plenty of time, according to our pediatrician). We'll have more than just one bathroom and we'll be living in a beautiful, safe neighborhood right next to our girls' future elementary school. It's a dream come true and I know it will help me feel better, if I can make it till then...
There's only so much that helps though. There's only so many times I can look at Ryan and say, "It's going to get better. It has to get better. We're surviving. It's going to be great," before I stop believing it and grow impatient.
So, here I am, word-vommitting all over you and the internet. Do I feel better? Perhaps... Am I safe to be watching our daughters 24 hours a day every single day? Probably not, if we're being really frank, so I'm asking for breaks. My sister and I are having dinner and seeing a movie tomorrow. Ryan and I are working on a plan for me to head out on Sunday mornings to sip some coffee and enjoy the local bookstore (and probably work, if I know me). I'm making progress on my life goals and have a manuscript being edited as we speak.
No, I'm not getting medicated. I'm not going to therapy. I'm not really getting help. I can't. I have no health insurance. Universal health care would be really nice right now... Also, I'm dedicated to breastfeeding and there aren't many options for safe treatment of depression for breastfeeding mothers. I'm still functioning. And I'm very aware of what's going on in my head. It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay. This is temporary and everything really is going to get better in time. I'm doing the best I can...
I'm surviving.
oh man do I relate. I honestly don't know if it was chemical in my case. Perhaps a bit. Most of all, I had no time left for coping mechanisms that used to help keep me out of a funk. We had twins with little help available to us and I think it was just all TOO MUCH. A friend of mine did come over, who happened to also have had twins. I was talking to her about my desire to start exercising again (if I could ever find the time and energy to do so) and she agreed and said that her "mental health is dependent on my physical health", which rang so true in my ears and made me feel so much better to hear from another person. Now, I've never been an athlete or anything, but pretty able to function physically in life. After that pregnancy my body was all kinds of messed up and it REALLY bothered me. Aside from the weight, and the skin flap I knew I was sure to have, I had a hard time doing basic things like getting up off the floor or couch, making it across the street in a timely fashion. My abdominal muscles were gone and I had never realized exactly how much they were responsible for. I felt like crying each time one of those things happened. But when I said those things out loud I felt like other people thought I was being silly, or had unrealistic expectations about my body, which made me feel worse. This, coupled with constant crying of 2 newborns and no time for myself was not good. I'm still 20 pounds heavier than my pre-pregnancy weight and it does bother me. Every time I walk into my closet and see ALL these clothes than I can not fit into, it makes me feel bad. I look at the 3 outfits I can fit into and I feel bad. Everyone says, "oh, you should by yourself new clothes, you deserve it." F yeah I deserve it, but who's gonna pay for it? That would just increase my fears about money, add to my anxieties and make me feel worse. But no one wants to hear that when they are trying to cheer you up.
ReplyDeleteWhen I did go back to work, I was actually happy. It was the only place that was quiet. I was positive no one would be crying there. But, I did notice that I had an incredibly hard time concentrating and thinking. My head felt so foggy, sort of like that feeling one has after taking cold medicine, only this was all time. I thought it might be an adjustment period, but after 3 months I finally did decide to see a therapist and take medication which has helped. My husband worries about it and fears I may be on it my whole life. I also worry that i might be on it my whole life, and I used to feel the same way. But it's not such a concern for me anymore. If it keeps me from going back to that place, I'm fine with it. I am not saying you should medicate. I so appreciate your honesty and I don't feel so alone anymore.
Thank you so much for reading and leaving a comment! I truly believe that being honest about what we're going through not only helps us mothers get through this difficult time but spreads and understanding and empathy for what we're expected to endure as new parents!
DeleteI heard from another mother of young twins recently that there's guilt that comes from having twins and thinking, "I didn't ask for this." I imagine that's a really common thing (heck, I didn't ask for 2 under 2 and there are times when I'm pissed about it and then feel guilty) but no one is talking about it so we all just keep feeling like shitty people who SHOULD be grateful and stop complaining!
Good for you for finding what's working for you right now and the future will always be uncertain... just keep doing the best you can, I'm right there with you and I think we're doing great ; )
My daughter is almost 3 and I still struggle with depression. In the beginning, it was PPD and that could be managed. It was almost accepted. "She has the baby blues, she'll get over it." I've written about it plenty (click here: http://www.hip-babymama.com/2010/10/she-cried-i-cried-and-cried.html) but I don't think i ever fully recovered.
ReplyDeleteThe fact that there's always something to look forward to is really the only thing that brings me hope. So does knowing there are other women out there not afraid to talk about it.
You have me as a new follower and admirer!
Thank you so much for reading and commenting! And thank you for sharing your own struggle! The more we talk about it, the better we'll all feel and the more awareness and help will be available to all mothers!
DeleteThanks for this blog, as a mom of 3, I am finding myself on the edge of depression more so now that my youngest is almost 14 months. Could it be that I am just damn straight up tired?! I will choose to remain hopeful for the months and years ahead.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for reading and commenting, Beth! Yes, you could just be tired as exhaustion is a leading cause of depression and it's cyclical which makes it that much harder to decide which came first! You may want to have your adrenal glands checked though to see if you're suffering from Adrenal Fatigue or Failure! I honestly feel it's very under diagnosed, especially in mothers, and can contribute to what we're feeling! For me, I'll have to wait till I'm done nursing to do anything about it but, if yours are weaned, it couldn't hurt to have those levels checked!! (could help with weight loss too which always boosts the mood, eh?) ; ) Best of luck!
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