40 In, 40 Out: A Postpartum Journey

You can do this. You can do this, but why would you? It's a story that needs to be told. Stigmas are stigmas for a reason. So many women suffer in silence. Silence wards off the inevitable judgement. Sharing the experience is cathartic. Sharing the experience is so, so scary. You're on the tail end of it. Will it ever really be over? Mental health is health. Mental health is health.

For the past 80 or so weeks, I haven't been myself. That's a long freaking time when I see those numbers typed out. Yikes.  Antepartum and Postpartum depression have hit me like a relentless hurricane during my second pregnancy and life has been difficult at best.  It's hard to even know where to begin in sharing my journey, but it's one that's worth sharing if it means that just one other woman in this sometimes lonely world will feel less alone.

Depression: I think it's important to share a bit of my history with depression as a precursor. Depression runs deep in both sides of my family so it's not totally a surprise that I suffer from it. I remember the first time that I was really able to identify what it was: I came home on break from college during grad school just feeling absolutely miserable and going through the motions, but not much beyond that. It felt as though I was swathed in a deep fog and had no fog light to guide me through the darkness. Since then (or probably before, but I didn't know it), I've battled depression on and off for years.

Antepartum Depression: Did you know this is a thing? It is a thing. I found out that I was pregnant with Harper in January of 2017. It was something that CP and I were hoping for so we were elated and excited. About a month later after the initial excitement set in, so did the dreaded winter blues. Those winter blues never left, though, and they became spring and summer blues too. I'm not sure how to accurately describe how low I felt. I dragged myself out of bed in the morning, only to find myself pleading for the minutes to tick by faster so I could close my eyes and be done with the day again. I closed so many people off and hibernated whenever I could. Paired with some difficult physical symptoms like sciatica, I hated so much of this pregnancy. The shame that I felt (and still feel) for feeling that way given that so many women and couples struggle with infertility only led me deeper down the depression wormhole.

Along with the Antepartum depression, this is also when I started experiencing night terrors. I would dream that people were crawling through our walls, children were being taken or were drowning, or that I was trapped in a room with no way out. I would wake up and be "awake", but still in the night terror so I would often be screaming or yelling for help. Oy. These lasted throughout my pregnancy.

Postpartum Depression: Harper's birth was about as easy as they come and I so hoped for relief from all of the physical and mental ailments that haunted me for the previous 40 weeks. I'd say for about 4-5 months, actually, things were a lot better. When I say a lot better, I mean not as depressing- the transition from one to two girls was still a crazy one, but thankfully (so thankfully!), the night terrors stayed at bay.

The transition back to work after three months was a stressful one, but I more or less expected that. A couple of months later, my grandfather died, we moved my grandmother to VA, and life threw our family a big curveball. Looking back on those months of going back to work and then a big upheaval within our family, it's no wonder my anxiety and subsequent depression came rearing back, but things were so chaotic in the moment that I couldn't even recognize it.

My anxiety kept increasing (for me, I mostly feel a big 'ol pit in stomach when I'm anxious) and there was another piece that started making my depression rear its ugly head more and more: pumping. Where to even start on this one- it is such a love/hate relationship that I have with the darn machine. I'm thankful that I had one and that I was able to use it. Beyond that, though, it became such a source of the blues for me. Harper surprisingly preferred the bottle to milk from the source, so I was spending about 100-150 minutes a day tethered to the pump and after long enough, it just got the best of me. At work I would miss recess and planning time, meaning I wouldn't step outside of the building most days and I was obviously playing catch up on planning all the time. I would wake up at 5am to give myself enough time to pump and get myself out the door for work and then I would be dead tired at night....only to remember that I still had to pump last thing before bed. All this to say- pumping wore me to the ground this time around. Around this time, my night terrors also resurfaced and they were far worse this time.

So- what was the breaking point? I started to resent Harper. Even typing those words and rereading them makes the tears stream down my face, but it's an honest moment of where I was at and it's also when I realized that I needed help as soon as possible. This was all totally new, as I had not experienced any of this with Avery's pregnancy or postpartum journey. Again, depression is beyond difficult to describe if you're not prone to it but the best way I can bring my feelings to life is to explain that Harper is one of the happiest babies I've ever met. Not just because she's ours, but because she truly just radiates happiness. That's a wonderful thing, right? To me, in that moment, it was the worst thing. I had spent 40 mostly blue weeks carrying this baby and now she was the most even keel and delightful cherub....and here I was blue. Again. It was as if Harper had managed to soak up every atom of happiness from me and transplant it into her DNA, leaving me with nothing.

When I went to my doctor, we came up with a plan and I think I'll share more of that plan and the resources and strategies that I have found incredibly helpful in another post. Things are definitely moving in the right direction, thankfully, and I do feel like I'm in a much better place than 8-10 weeks ago.  That being said, so much of mental health is an ongoing conversation and evaluation - one that is imperative to keep on your front burner, even when you have a million other things vying for your stove top space in life.

When I think about why I felt compelled to write about and share my experience, it's three-fold. Writing has always been cathartic for me in general. Also, once I started opening up to friends, it became so clear so very quickly that many women suffer from anxiety and depression (many of whom are postpartum), and I gained so much strength and courage from listening to their stories and experiences. And finally, I'm sharing my experience for Avery and Harper. Never, ever, ever do I want them to feel as though they are "other" if and when they are feeling blue. It's a difficult thing knowing that depression runs in families and there's a solid chance that one or both of them may experience it. However, my hope is that the mental health conversation picks up as much speed as the other parts of our health-centered conversations have so that they know they're never alone and that it is normal and okay to not feel normal and to not feel okay. I want them to know that they have parents, family, and friends that will always be there for them and support them regardless of any mental, physical, or emotional circumstances that they are experiencing. This is a great big world and it can be a scary one if you feel like you're traversing it alone.

And so, here we are. Mostly on the other side of Antepartum and Postpartum depression, mostly feeling normal (whatever normal even means), and so grateful for a lot of love and a lot of support that I've felt on this challenging journey. I do want to share what helped most over the last year and a half next time, but for now just know that if you are a human being and you are struggling, there is someone out there with their arms wide open ready to catch you. It's okay to fall as long as you know where you can land safely.