Dealing with "Blue Holidays"

If dealing with PPD, being a new mommy, and having a crazy job is not enough, the Holidays bring added stress.  I know that I hear from most people that the Holidays stress them out and they feel like they do more running around than enjoying the days--this is not the stress I am referring to.  My stress and "blues" are different.  This year is especially hard when the Holidays come.  I remember just last year being excited for Thanksgiving and Christmas and being very happy and excited about being pregnant.  It's crazy that just one short year later, my feelings are almost completely opposite.  I used to look forward to the Holidays because I could not wait to spend time with family, but in this stage of my PPD, I prefer to be alone and to not be "bothered" so getting together with everyone is very challenging to say the least.  I love my family and am glad that I get to see them, but it is difficult to "press through" all of these feelings and emotions and to try to enjoy myself.  It's always fun to reminisce about previous Holidays, but at the same time, it is sad.  I want so much to be that person again.  I want so much to look forward to the Holidays and spending time with friends and family.  I want this all to be over with.

My baby is now 9 months old.  This will be his first Christmas and I want to make it special for him, but it's hard when inside I'm falling apart.  I thank God that at this point in Seth's young life, he will not remember his first Christmas.  We will take the "joyful" pictures and that is what he will be able to look back on.  I'm sure that I will remember the pain, but he will not have to endure it--thank God!  If the Christmas tree never gets put up and not a single light is hung up, his day will not be affected.  If I cry throughout the day, he will not understand nor will he remember.  Dealing with "blue Holidays" is very difficult.  As I go through this Season, I will try my best to "think upon good things."

I am so thankful that I'm married to a man of God who truly supports me in everything I do.  I'm thankful for a son who is healthy and who enjoys even the smallest of things.  I am thankful for a job that helps provide for my family.  I'm thankful for a warm home where my family can spend time together.  I'm thankful for a car that is reliable that allows me to visit family and friends.  I'm thankful for parents who are loving and supportive.  I'm thankful for a mother-in-law who knows how to make me laugh and who goes with the flow.  I'm thankful for my physical health that allows me to chase Seth all over the house now that he is mobile!  I have so much to be thankful for and that is what I need to focus on.  I have a Lord and Savior who was born just to die for me.  I know that if He was willing to die for me because He wants me to live, I also know that He wants to heal me of all of this.  I know that He has great things in store for me and my family and that through this trial, He will mold me and shape me into the person that he wants me to become.  I know that even when I handle things wrong or when I sulk in my sadness, He still loves me and will never give up on me.

Although it is easy to feel "blue" at Christmas, we have to remember the TRUE meaning of CHRISTmas and what it is all about.  Christ was born on this Earth so that we could have eternal life.  He was born, touched many lives, and then endured the cross because He loves us so much.  This Christmas, try to set aside quality time with your family remembering what the day is really about.  Sure it's fun to see your children open their gifts and see their faces light up, but how much more rewarding will it be to see them grow up into men and women of God?

If you are experiencing depression and are having a rough time during the Holidays, think on the things I mentioned above.  Remember that the "joy of the Lord is my strength".  Keep pressing through and try not to let your eyes get fixed on the storm, but rather keep your eyes on Jesus as he leads you out of this dark place.  One day you will be in a better place looking back at all that you went through.  You will be able to reach others and minister to others as a result of the things you went through.  It's easy to read Scripture and to feel disconnected, but when another Christian can relate and can tell you their testimony, everything falls into place!  I cannot wait for the souls I am going to reach.  I cannot wait for the opportunity to share my testimony about being healed from PPD and how it changed my life...for the good.

Kick Me While I'm Down

As I tried to deal with going back to work, the constant needs of my son, and other obligations, there were two other situations that were constantly on my mind.  Because this blog is not to hurt anyone or to make anyone look bad, I'm going to use fictional names for the people I will be referencing.  First of all, there was Larry.  Larry was and is someone very close to me.  He is someone I truly love and someone I want the best for.  Larry was having several problems--his main problem being drug use.  Larry was addicted to drugs and that addiction was causing several problems for all of those who were close to him.  He lied and stole to meet his needs, and in the process hurt several people.  He never stole from me, but hearing about the ways he hurt others broke my heart.  You see, Larry was a very likable, lovable man that was and is full of great potential.  He started hanging out with the wrong people and got into some very serious drugs.  It was hard to see him making decisions in his life that could potentially cause him to die.  I wanted to believe the things that Larry said, but it was impossible due to his constant lying.  I was very concerned about Larry and I wanted him to get help.  I also prayed that the people he was hurting would be able to forgive him and still love him. 

Finally, his drug issues were confronted and he left for rehab.  I was glad that he was leaving to get the help that he needed, but I was very worried about him.  I prayed that God would do amazing things in his life and deliver him from his addictions.  It was hard not being able to talk to Larry or see Larry to see if he was improving.  I wanted so badly to be there for him, but due to the rules of the rehab center, contact was not allowed.  I would hear updates on him through the few people who were able to contact him.  I prayed that the changes that he claimed he was making were changes that he would stick with once he finished his rehab.  I feared that Larry would get what he needed, but once he returned to the "real world" the temptation would be too much and he would go back to using.  There were several days and nights that I cried and cried about Larry and his life.  I was so scared that if he did not get the help he needed, that he would eventually die.  I could not even stand to think about Larry leaving this earth due to his body craving something that poisoned him.  It's so hard to see someone you love going through something so hard and potentially life-threatening.  This weighed on my mind...and still does as he continues to struggle with drug use and living a sober life.

The other situation was and still is heavy on my heart as well.  A couple that is very close to me, we will call them Jason and Sue, were having a hard time dealing with a decision that I had made.  This decision did not directly affect Jason and Sue, but in a sense, they felt that it affected them and because I did not make the decision that they wanted me to make, they decided to "cut ties" with me.  This hurt very badly.  Being pregnant and expecting your first child is something that you want to share with everyone that you love and that you are close to.  It hurt me badly not to be able to share this with them.  As the days passed by and I was closer to having my baby, I wondered if Jason and Sue would show up for the birth of my child.  This was very important to me.  Eventually the day came, I had Seth, and they never showed.  It hurts me to even write this.  I couldn't believe that they never came.  This event in my life could never be lived over again, and they were not there.  Jason and Sue did not see my son until 3 weeks after he was born and that was only due to me and my husband bringing Seth to an event where they happened to be present.  Their response to my son was not at all what I expected.  They looked at him, said a few things, and that was it.  What a disappointment!  Unfortunately as time has passed, this relationship has not improved, it has actually gotten worse.  It is extremely difficult to venture this journey and to deal with the emotions of loss--because that is what I feel.  I feel that I have lost Jason and Sue in my life.  I feel that they missed out on one of the biggest days of my life and they continue to miss out on Seth growing up and getting older.  It is so hard for me not to be angry and to not get bitter.  I just cannot understand how people can allow their opinions to keep them from being a part of someones life...if they truly love them.  As if my heart wasn't broken enough already, this definitely busted it into more pieces.  I hope that one day we will reconcile and we can be a part of each other's lives. 

These situations in my life have caused me to feel like I've been kicked while I was already down.  I'm already suffering from PPD and everything that comes along with it, and on top of that, I am constantly dealing with the loss of two very close people.  It hurts to sit by and watch Seth grow and to know that they have not been a part of his life.  Because of their feelings about me, they have missed out on my son and the joy that he brings to people.  I definitely need help in dealing with this, so please pray for me.  Pray that I will forgive and not allow these things to continue to hurt me and to cause me to become hard and bitter.  Pray that God will help me to see that he has placed others in my life who have been supportive, and even though it may not be Jason and Sue, there are others who love me and care about me and will be with me through this journey with my son.

The Journey Back to Work

With Seth sleeping through the night (most nights), I was more encouraged to go back to work.  I had feared going back to work while still being up with him off and on throughout the night, but it seemed that there was finally some light at the end of the tunnel!!  While I was very happy about my son sleeping through the night, I was also getting nervous about going back to work.  My job is very stressful and I was very worried that it would add to my depression.  I was somewhat excited at the same time.  I was ready to talk to adults again and to get back into my routine.  I just wasn't sure how my routine was going to be with having to get a baby ready and off to daycare in the morning too. 

As my first day back approached, I started to get everything prepared.  I was thinking of the most effective ways to start my mornings.  I laid out Seth's clothes for the entire week so I would not have to find clothes in the mornings.  I had his diaper bag packed and ready to go.  The day before I went back to work, Seth and I visited the daycare.  I took his diapers, formula, nursery water, wipes, and whatever else he needed so that I wouldn't have to bring them the next morning.  The visit went well.  The daycare employees were very kind and reassuring.  After our visit, we went back home and I spent time with my son as I mapped everything out in my mind.  I tried to prepare myself for the journey that was ahead of me with my job.  I tried to think positively about returning to work and my son going to daycare.

The fateful day arrived.  I woke up around 5:45am and got myself ready in a hurry.  Things went mostly as planned.  I got Seth ready around 6:30am.  His clothes were laid out and ready to go.  I gave him a bottle and before I knew it, we were out the door.  As I drove to the daycare, several thoughts were running through my head.  I thought about how friends had told me about taking their child to daycare for the first couple of weeks and how hard it was.  They talked about how they cried every day after dropping them off.  I was wondering how I was going to react.  We got to the daycare and I talked to the worker for a few minutes and told Seth my "good-byes".  As I walked out of the door, I felt a sense of relief rather than sadness.  This made me upset.  I couldn't believe that I was relieved to drop him off especially to go to work!  I almost started to cry because I was not sad about leaving him.  I got to work and everyone welcomed me back.  They asked how I did that morning and I told them the truth.  They tried to reassure me that everyone feels differently about dropping their kids off at daycare and that it was nothing to worry about.  I still felt horrible.  I truly loved my child, but for some reason, I was always relieved when someone else was caring for him.  I went through  my day trying to get back in the grind of things.  I called and checked on Seth one time and they said he was doing pretty good. 

As the day carried on, I started to have anxiety about whether or not the daycare was going to follow Seth's routine.  I worried that he would be off schedule and not sleep through the night.  My stress and anxiety continued to rise.  I tried to busy myself with reading the over 400 emails in my inbox.  By the end of the day, I couldn't wait to pick up my son because I really wanted to know every detail about his day and his naps.  I went to the daycare and spoke with the worker who informed me that everything went according to schedule and that he was a happy baby.  I agreed and was relieved to hear that he was still on schedule. 

We got home and I was exhausted.  I wondered how working mothers did this every day.  I thought it was going to be impossible.  I worked for one day and already I was exhausted and was worried that I wouldn't make it the rest of the week.  Thankfully I did make it through the rest of the week.  I had a lot of anxiety and worried a lot, but I made it.  As much as I loved my son, I wished that things were back to "normal".  I wanted to go to work, come home, and do what I wanted to do.  I did not want to have to tend to a crying baby who needed constant attention.  I started resenting my son.  I felt like he had taken everything away from me.  Not only did I have anxiety, depression, and panic attacks, I also was having an identity crisis.  I did not feel like myself, nor did I act like myself.  Everything had changed.  Things were just fine, actually wonderful, before my son was born, but now everything was screwed up!  I kept asking myself why I did this.  Why did I have a baby when everything was great before?  I dreaded the months and years ahead of me.  I didn't want to be a mom.  I didn't want to have a baby, and I certainly did not want to go through postpartum depression.  If things weren't hard enough, work started to get even more stressful.  There were countless changes to my job and I was slammed with 11 cases on my first day back.  Nothing about the future, on my job and in my personal life, looked good.  I was thankful to have my job, but I had no idea how I was going to handle everything.

As the weeks passed, I had several ups and downs with my depression.  My coworkers were more than supportive.  They offered to watch my son if needed, and they told me to come to them if I needed anything.  I cannot express how thankful I am for my coworkers.  They have made this whole adjustment much easier.  They have been there for me when I felt like I couldn't do one more thing.  They offered to help as much as possible, and they took lunch breaks with me which really helped relieve some stress!  Although I only told a few of them my entire story, they were there for me and embraced me with open arms. 

Looking back, I'm not sure how I made it through this huge adjustment other than due to the power of prayer.  There must have been several people praying for me because just when I didn't think I could take one more thing, I did.  When I thought I was not going to make it, I did (and still am).  It's amazing how God puts people in your life for a reason.  I thank God for wonderful coworkers who are still helping me through this today.  They have been an instrumental part of my recovery.  Just when I thought things couldn't get worse...they did.  Even with all of the support from my coworkers, my church family, my parents, and my husband, I was still having a very difficult time overcoming the depression and anxiety.  I thought things were looking up, but some significant things happened in my life that caused me to have a downward spiral. 

I cannot imagine anyone going through this without support.  If you know anyone suffering with postpartum depression, please refer them to my blog.  They can also contact me through email (my email address is listed on the blog page).  I would love to be there for someone who is going through this awful disorder.

A Miracle at Two Months!

Another week went by and Seth made the trip to and from Grandma and Grandpa's house for another couple of nights.  Again, it was a welcome relief.  He still did not have his nights and days figured out, but he was sleeping a little bit more at night.  By this point, even with some breaks, I was exhausted.  I was still having anxiety and panic attacks.  The medication had not fully kicked in yet, but it was helping some.  I thought sleep would never come.

One Sunday night when Seth was about 2 months old, I was at a church service.  We were singing the song "Open Up the Sky".  Throughout that song I was praying for help.  I was telling the Lord that I needed strength and I needed rest.  I knew that he had promised me rest and I really wanted it!  I kept singing and praying.  We got to the part of the song where we sang, "We won't be satisfied with anything ordinary; we won't be satisfied at all."  We repeated this part several times.  At that moment, I spoke to God and said, "Lord, I know that this might not be a big deal in comparison to so many other things that are going on in the world, but Lord, PLEASE give me rest.  PLEASE get Seth to sleep at night.  Change his schedule around so that I can get some sleep!"  As I was praying this, I fully believed that God could change Seth around, but I also felt kind of guilty for bringing something so "trivial" before the Lord, but by this time, I didn't care anymore...I just wanted something to work and I knew my God could do this.  I looked over at Seth and he was asleep.  My anxiety rose.  My first thought was, now how is he going to sleep tonight if he sleeps through this entire service?  I focused back in on the worship and I continued to pray.  I honestly have no idea what the sermon was about that evening, but one thing I do know is that the Lord hears our cries and answers even the smallest of requests.  Even though Seth had slept a lot that day and even through most of that evening service, he slept from 10pm to 6am for the very first time!  What a miracle!  The boy had barely slept for more than 3 hours at a time at night and with at least a couple of hours awake in between!  The funny part is, I kept waking up and checking on him thinking that something was wrong because he did not wake up!  At 6am, he was awake, alert, and ready to eat!

What a blessing!  I continued to have anxiety in the evenings due to worrying that this was just a one-time thing and that something would cause Seth to go back to his mixed-up schedule, but he never did.  Of course, he has had nights where he has woken up due to coughing or wanting to eat while going through a growth spurt, but from that night on, he pretty much has slept through the night.  Praise God!

I called my mom that morning to tell her the good news.  I would call her throughout the day and give her updates on his sleep (because I'm sure she really wanted to know, haha)!  I would call her every morning around 8am to tell her whether or not Seth had a good night.  She was always expecting my call.  This was an outlet for me.  It was a way to get rid of some of my anxiety by being reassured that Seth would continue to sleep through the night and that I would continue to make it.  I'm sure I wore my mom out during these crazy days, but she stuck by my side.  She listened, comforted, and encouraged me even if I was driving her crazy with all of my calls (I know that if I was, she would never admit to it anyway!).  I appreciate everything that my mom did and does for me and my family.  I would have never made it through this time in my life if she had not been there for me. 

From this point on, Seth has done well sleeping, but unfortunately, I haven't!  Due to anxiety and stress, I very rarely get a good night's sleep.  I wake up every morning feeling like I slept for 2 hours even if I did sleep for 6 hours.  My doctor and I are trying to get this worked out, and I know that one day it will be worked out for good.  I can't wait until the depression, anxiety, and panic attacks are OVER!!!

The Psychiatrist and a Break

So the days passed and my psychiatric appointment had arrived.  I was very nervous.  I thought that the Psychiatrist was going to look at me and tell me that I was crazy.  Again, I feel like I didn't even resemble myself.  I figured, well, if you can't tell that I need help just by looking at me, then you're probably not that good of a psychiatrist anyway!  I sat out in the waiting room with a slew of other people.  Some were sitting patiently while others were obviously dealing with extreme anxiety.  I played with my phone to pass the time away.  Before my name was called, a younger woman (probably in her early twenties) walked out from her appointment.  She was surprisingly "normal".  She seemed happy and under control.  This gave me hope.  I was thinking, well, maybe she came in here feeling like I do now, and now she seems to be doing much better...that's what I was hoping anyway!  The Psychiatrist called me back and I nervously walked to his office.  He told me to have a seat and he left the room for a few minutes.  I looked around and saw several plants growing, several books on his bookshelf, and an uncluttered desk.  For those of you that know me, this was a sigh of relief...I don't deal with clutter very well!  I sat there feeling like my world was falling apart.  He entered the room and the appointment began.

He asked me what had been going on with me and I filled him in.  I started to cry a couple of times.  I told him that I hadn't felt like myself since before having my baby.  I told him the thoughts that I had been having and the steps I had taken to address these issues.  He talked to me about a few things and was really down to earth.  I really liked that about him.  He didn't treat me like I was some crazy person who had lost my mind or that I was a wimp and should just suck it up.  He told me that this happens frequently and that we would get it figured out.  He changed me to a different anti-depressant and prescribed me an anxiety medication as well.  We addressed my lack of sleep issue and he made sure that the medication wouldn't make it worse.  He told me to get the prescriptions filled, take them daily as prescribed and to see him again in 2 weeks.  He asked me if I was taking any breaks for myself.  I told him that my friend had taken Seth overnight and it was helpful.  He told me that I needed to have someone watch Seth overnight for at least 2 nights per week.  This really hurt!  I didn't want people thinking that I couldn't take care of my own child!  I also had a lot of anxiety about Seth's sleeping and eating schedule, so putting that into someone else's hands seemed like too much to even think about.  He told me that it would help.  He told me that I needed someone to watch him for at least 1 overnight per week, but it would be best if it were two.  I scheduled my next appointment and left.

I got in my car and called my Mom.  I was crying and was very upset.  I was upset that I was now going to be on 2 medications and that I was going to have to see if someone could watch Seth 2 nights per week.  As I spoke with my Mom about all of this, she was very calm and reassuring.  She said that she and my dad could keep Seth overnight and it would not be a problem.  This did ease some of the anxiety because I knew my Mom would try her best to do things as I would do them.  She joked and said that she would work very hard on those 2 nights to see if she could get his days and nights flipped around so that I might actually get some sleep when he was back home.  Thinking about this made me want to send him to her right then!  Just thinking about him sleeping more at night was encouraging!  We worked out a plan and everything was set.

I got my prescriptions filled and began taking my new medications.  A couple of days later, Stuart and I loaded up Seth's overnight things and headed to my Mom's.  I could feel some of my anxiety leave as we drove there.  This made me mad because again, I wanted to feel sad that he was not going to be with me for the next few days, but instead I felt relief.  We got to her house, stayed for a little while and chatted, and then we left.  As we drove away, it was like life was just pouring back into me.  The guilt from these feelings was overwhelming.  I cried to my husband stating that I wished I felt differently.  I cried because I felt that life would never be the same.  I told him that I wanted to be sad to leave Seth, not happy and relieved.  He told me that it was fine and that I needed a break from time to time.  I told him that Seth was only around 5 or 6 weeks old and that most moms do not let anyone have their child overnight until they are much older (if at all possible).  Again, he said that it was fine.  He said that my Mom would take good care of Seth and that I would be able to rest.

We got home, and again, as I entered the house, I saw all of Seth's toys and baby items and I wanted to cry.  I wanted things to go back to normal, but I knew that regardless, this little baby was going to be with us forever.  I tried to put those thoughts out of my head and just try to enjoy this break.  I slept very good that night.  I called my Mom the next morning to check on things and she gave me the updates.  She said that he was up a lot over the night, but that they were working with him on staying up more during the day.  I thanked her and hung up the phone.  I felt so free.  I had the entire day to myself without any worries about the baby and his constant needs.  I jumped in my car and just did whatever I wanted.  It felt so good.  I did call and check on Seth a few times to be sure everything was fine, but then I went on as if he wasn't even here.  As that second day passed, my anxiety started to rise.  Before I went to bed, I called my Mom.  She knew that I was already worried about having to pick him up the next day.  She told me not to worry about it and to just try to get some good sleep.  Boy did I try, but it just didn't happen.  I woke up several times during the night with panic attacks.  I was having the panic attacks because I knew I had to pick Seth up the next day.  Man, what a horrible feeling!  I was actually panicked because I had to pick up my own son the next day.  What kind of mother was I?  Over the course of the night, I woke up several times and then I was up for good around 6am.  I got up and started busily working around the house preparing for Seth's return.  I cried throughout that morning.  I cried because I had to pick him up.  I cried because I was stressed and felt like crap.  I cried because of my thoughts and feelings, and I cried because I was crying about all of this!  What a circle of guilt...it just never ended.

Well, the time came.  My husband and I drove to my Mom's house and picked Seth up.  I was back to my hopeless state where I felt like I was doomed.  On the drive back home, I sat in the back with Seth and just stared at him.  How could such a small, beautiful baby destroy my life?  I came to the conclusion during that drive that I was just not meant to be a mother.  I was not "mom material".  If all of these other mothers could handle having babies and caring for them, then there was obviously something wrong with me and I was just not fit to play this part.  We got home and the cycle continued.  Seth was still sleeping during the day and was up almost all night.  I thought it would never end!

I really thought that I was at my breaking point and that I was going to lose my mind.  Thankfully I had my husband, my parents, my husband's family, and my church family to help me through.  You don't realize how important it is to have a support network until you reach a point where you feel like you can't do anything on your own.  Even after all of these thoughts and horrible feelings, the main thought I had was, I can't wait until next week when my parents take him again.  There were times that I wished that they would just take him for good.  I was ready to give up, but how could I? 

The whole healing process seemed impossible when I kept going through a cycle of guilt that ate me alive.  I heard everyone saying that it would get better and that being a mom is very tiring, but I felt like they had no idea.  They laughed about how babies sometimes have their nights and days mixed up, but to me, this was no joke.  Several people said, "welcome to motherhood!"  Honestly, I just wanted to slap them!  They had no idea--no idea! 

During this time, there were several people who offered to watch Seth for me.  At times, I was ready to hand him over.  I couldn't believe this either considering some of them I didn't even know very well.  Thankfully, I didn't just hand him over, I stuck with it and pressed through.  I tried to be the mother I was supposed to be while feeling completely empty and depressed inside.  I know that God gave me the strength to make it through those dark days.  I kept telling myself that it would soon be over and things would be back to normal.  Little did I know that I was completely wrong.

The Dreaded Appointment

Soon after Seth's overnight stay with my friend, Stacia, I went to my follow up doctor's appointment with my OB.  I'm sure that if anyone would have seen me, they would not have recognized me.  I was a mess!  I was blank--no emotion, no make up, wearing glasses, and with my hair a mess.  The nurse looked at me when I first came in and asked if I was okay.  I told her that I wasn't.  She showed me which room to enter and followed behind me and closed the door.  She asked me what was going on.  I told her exactly how things had been going.  I told her that I had been having thoughts about not wanting my son and that I had hoped that I would be better by now, but I wasn't.  The nurse looked at me and told me that everything was going to be fine and that this was a very common thing.  I told her that I felt so guilty because I loved my son, but I kept feeling like I didn't want him.  She asked if I had ever had any thoughts of hurting him.  I told her that I did not.  She asked several questions about whether my family lived in town and if anyone could help me with my son.  I told her that my family lived an hour away and that my mother-in-law had been having a lot of medical problems.  I told her that my husband was very helpful, but he was working third shift and that was the worst time for me--when he was gone.  I told her that I had barely slept for the past 4 weeks.  She told me that she wished that she lived in town because she would help me.  I really appreciated her for being so compassionate.  She told me that the doctor would be in the room in a few minutes and that I needed to tell him everything I had told her.  I said that I would.  She left the room and closed the door.

As I sat in that room by myself, I began to think.  I wasn't sure what was about to happen.  I figured that the doctor would suggest medication, and I didn't want to be on medication--I wanted to be healed instantly!  I thought that if I went on medication, I would be considered "weak".  I thought that I would have to be on the medication forever and I didn't want to have to take pills for the rest of my life.  Regardless of all of those thoughts, I knew that I needed to be honest because I truly needed help.  I sat there, with almost no feeling at all--just blah.  I could have been told that something terrible happened and I truly think that I would not have had a response or reaction at all.  I was so numb.  I stared at the small room and wished that things were different.  I wished that I could take everything back.  I wished that I wasn't a mother and that life could go back to "normal". 

The doctor came into the room and talked to me.  He asked a few questions and I was honest.  He completed the necessary medical procedures for my follow up visit and then he asked to see me in his office.  I agreed and absent-mindedly walked to a chair outside of his office and waited for him.  I sat and thought about what I would say.  How was I going to convince this man that I truly loved my son when I didn't feel like I did?  I really wondered if this appointment was really going to help.

The doctor came and I followed him into his office.  He closed the door and started asking me some of the same questions the nurse had asked me.  He asked if I had ever been depressed before.  I told him that I had struggled with depression from time to time, but I had never been treated for depression--it had never become a problem.  He asked about family history and then told me that he was going to prescribe an anti-depressant for me.  I sunk further in my chair and just stared at the floor.  He said that he would give me the lowest dose and that I should start to feel things getting better within a couple of weeks.  I told him that I would take the medication and see if it helped.  Inside I was getting angry.  Was I really going to have to take medication??  Really?  What was wrong with me?

I left that doctor's office with a prescription and battled with whether or not I was going to get it filled.  I eventually went to the pharmacy and got it filled, but I didn't take any of the medication for another week.  I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  I didn't want something altering my mind.  I just wanted to be ME.  After talking with some people close to me, they persuaded me to take the medication.  I took it for three days and then stopped.  I had noticed that my panic attacks started to increase, so I convinced myself that it was due to the medication.  After some more persuading, I started to take the medication again.  I stuck with it this time.  The only difference I noticed was that I was losing even more weight (I had already lost all of my baby weight) and instead of feeling sad all of the time, I only felt sad some of the time and the rest of the time I felt numb.  I was not impressed with the medication, but after again talking to those close to me, I went back to the doctor and told him how things were going.  He then told me that I needed to see a psychiatrist.  WHAT??  Now I really felt crazy.  He thought that I was bad enough that I needed to see a psychiatrist?  My doctor even said that he would not prescribe me any type of contraceptive until I was seen by a psychiatrist.  He referred me to a local psychiatrist and they set up an appointment for me.  What a mess--that was all I could think.  So, this is what it is like being a mom?  This is what my life is like from now on.  I was to the point that I didn't think that I could take anything else.  I continued taking the anti-depressant and waited for my upcoming appointment.

What a disappointment!  The medication wasn't working.  My doctor would not allow me to go back on birth control until I saw a psychiatrist.  I was still feeling like I didn't want my baby.  I had no desire to eat or to do much of anything else besides go through the motions...and that's what I did.  I cared for my son and he lacked for nothing (except for a mom who was emotionally there).  This journey of motherhood was not what I expected.  I just wondered when I would ever be myself again...it looked like never.

Don't worry, things did get better, and are still getting better.  This step in going to the doctor was a big one!  I should have gone sooner, but I was too stubborn thinking that I could get better on my own.  If you are currently dealing with Postpartum Depression, make sure you contact your doctor.  Be honest about your feelings even if they are hard to speak.  The only way things will change is if you are honest and seek help whether that is from God, your Pastoral Staff, a friend, family, your doctor, or all of the above.  You need to talk about it!

A Friend, an Angel

Eventually my husband went back to work and I had no idea how I was going to handle everything.  He worked overnight and then slept during the day.  I tried to keep my son from crying so that he could sleep.  I tried so hard not to wake him up myself because I was lonely and completely sick of being by myself...with my son.  I was so exhausted.  I yearned to sleep.  I wanted to sleep so badly, but my body and mind would not allow me to.  During the night, my husband would call and check on me.  He would typically call around 1am, 3am, and sometimes again around 5am.  His calls kept me encouraged and allowed me to take my mind off of my constant anxiety.  We would talk for a few minutes and then I would try to go to sleep.  I would sleep for awhile until I heard my son move or make a sound and then I would go into panic mode thinking that he was going to wake up after I finally was able to fall asleep.  My heart would start racing and going back to sleep became impossible.  Every night was the same and I didn't think I could take much more.

Toward the end of that third week, I ran into my friend Stacia.  She asked me how I was doing.  My response obviously did not match my tired eyes and lack of enthusiasm.  She asked if I was okay.  I continued to say that I was going to be fine.  I was just very, very tired.  I didn't go into too much detail, but I did say that I was having problems sleeping and had not had much sleep at all for the past month.  She asked if there was anything she could do.  The first thing that came to my mind (I will never forget) was for Stacia to just take my son.  I didn't want him anymore and I just couldn't take one more night.  Of course, I did not tell her this.  She mentioned something about watching him for a few hours so I could get some sleep.  I told her that I could not sleep during the day due to panic attacks, so although it would be nice to have a break, it would also give me even more anxiety.  Stacia told me to call her if I needed anything.  I said that I would and we left.  The next day or a couple of days later, Stacia called me and said that she would like to watch my son overnight so that I could get some rest.  She said that she could tell that I was stressed and that my son was probably sensing that which was making things worse.  She offered to come to my home and get up with him during the night so that I could sleep.  I told her that it was very thoughtful of her, but that I would still be up with my son and Stacia regardless because whenever my son would cry during the night, I would immediately start to have severe anxiety and I could not sleep.  We talked for awhile and tried to make some type of plans, but we just were not sure what would help.  Later that day, Stacia called me and asked if it would be okay for her to watch Seth at her house overnight.  I hesitated as I thought about it.  I immediately felt relief, then guilt.  I couldn't believe that I was just ready to hand my son over for an overnight stay without any worry or feelings of sadness--I was completely relieved.  I told her that I would truly appreciate it and that I may be able to sleep if he was not in our home. 

I dropped Seth off around 9pm that evening.  I was ready to run out the door, but I stayed around and kissed him goodbye.  I gave her all of the instructions and she told me that I had only one job to do, and that was to sleep.  She told me not to worry about Seth at all and that everything would be fine.  We planned that I would pick Seth up around 10am the following morning.  I drove back to my home (right around the corner) and felt the biggest sense of relief that I have ever felt.  I only stayed up for about an hour and then went to bed.  I actually slept!  I probably got a solid 6 hours of sleep.  I woke up around 5am in a panic.  I realized that my panic was due to having to pick my son up in less than 5 hours.  I felt so ashamed.  I could not believe that I was having a panic attack about picking my son up.  I was hoping that I would miss him and be ready to go and get him, but instead, I was dreading it.  Again, I felt absolutely horrible.  What kind of mother was I?  How could I feel this way?  I actually wished that I would never have to go and pick him up.  I cried because I didn't want to go and get him and because I felt so bad for having those feelings.

I drove over to Stacia's home and we spoke for a little while.  She told me that Seth did fine and that everything went well.  She asked if I was able to get any sleep.  I said that I did and thanked her for her help.  I told her that I felt better just by getting some sleep--which was true, but I still was not ready to pick him up!  I thanked her over and over for being willing to keep him overnight even though he is very needy and was up every 2 hours at least.  Again, she said that it was no problem.  She said that Seth was such a sweetheart and that he was a good baby.  Inside I just stared at her.  Why didn't I think he was a sweetheart?  Why did I not think that he was a good baby?  Why was I so consumed with everything and overwhelmed when thousands and thousands of mothers go through sleep deprivation and everything else and they are just fine?  Why was I such a wimp? 

That overnight stay was so helpful even though it brought up other feelings.  It was the first night that I had slept for more than 2 hours straight.  I needed that almost more than anything else.  That extra sleep allowed me to be more awake and attentive to my son and his needs.  Although it was not the ultimate fix for everything, it helped tremendously.  I was and still am so thankful that Stacia was so helpful to me.  She called me or texted me from time to time to check on me and Seth.  She was an angel in a time that I truly needed one.  It's funny how God always has something waiting.  Just when you don't think you can take one more night, He puts someone in your life who can help meet your needs and allow you to keep going.  I can never repay Stacia for her sacrifice.  I will never forget it and I will always be grateful for her help.  She and her husband helped in several other ways...too many to mention...but they have been a significant part of my healing process.

I wish I could say that everything got better from here, but it didn't.  God did show me that I had more support then I knew, but my sadness, anxiety, and panic attacks were getting worse.  Thankfully I had a church family that I opened up to and got even more support.  The days to come were some of the roughest days of my life and I thank God that I am still here to talk about them.

When I am Weak, then He is Strong

Believe it or not, during the first two weeks of having Seth, my husband was home with me.  Even with his support, I still felt like I could not handle everything.  I was trying to nurse, so regardless of whether or not my husband was home, I still had to get up for every feeding.  During the times that Seth would just stay up for hours and hours, my husband would stay up with him after I fed him, but I still could not sleep even though I would have had the opportunity. 

I cried to my husband and dreaded him going back to work.  I was so fearful that when he returned to work, I would never see him.  I thought everything was going to be about Seth and because he was so demanding, there would be no time for us.  I was so sad that I had chosen this for my life and I felt that my relationship with my husband would be over when he returned back to work.  He had tons of sick and vacation time, so I begged and begged him to get another week off of work because I just felt that I could not handle everything.  I was fearful of being with my son 24/7 and then losing my relationship with my husband.  I felt like my son was such an intruder in my life.  I resented him for changing everything.  I resented him because I felt like he was the reason I was feeling so "crazy".  I would look at my son with a blank stare and just wonder how in the world I was ever going to bond with him, take care of him, have a relationship with my husband, and eventually go back to work. 

During this time I tried to put on a good motherly act.  Not just for others, but for my son.  I didn't want him to feel the effects of a mother who was completely dying inside.  I would hold him and say the things that I thought a mother should say.  I would smile at him and play with him, all the while, on the inside I wanted to escape.  I wished for a way out.  I would hear others make comments about how cute he was and how proud I must be.  As I heard these comments, I cringed inside.  I knew that was how I should be feeling, but instead I was having thoughts about how much I resented my son.  I felt horrible about these thoughts.  The guilt was overwhelming.  I got to the point that I just wanted to leave and escape everything.  As I had those thoughts, I began to remind myself that God was with me.  I yearned to run to the alter and let my Lord wrap His arms around me.  I knew if I could just make it to the altar, everything would be better. 

My first church service back after having Seth was an eye-opener for some.  I barely got myself ready for church.  I didn't care what I looked like, I just wanted to be there.  I felt tormented all of the time, so I just wanted to get to church because things would be better.  As I entered the sanctuary, tons of people greeted me with hugs and support.  I started crying the moment one of my sisters in Christ hugged me.  I thought I would just drop to the floor and melt.  The hugs continued and I could feel the support of others even though they had no idea what I was going through.  During altar call, I made my way to the altar.  I fell to the floor and pleaded to God.  I wanted this to all go away.  I knew I wanted my son, but everything else needed to go.  I was sick of being emotional, crying, having horrible feelings and everything else--it just needed to go.  Again, despite my pleadings, the thoughts, emotions, crying, and everything else did not just disappear.  I left the altar feeling like I had support, but that was about all.  I walked back to my pew and looked at Seth and just started crying.  He was asleep (of course because it was daytime) and I wondered how on earth I would ever be the mom that God had called me to be if all I continued to feel was pain and sadness.  As I left church that day, I remember just wanting to leave it all.  I thought that my husband would be better off if I was gone.  It wasn't fair to him to have to deal with me and all of my issues.  I thought he and Seth would be happy without me.  My husband was a very good dad.  He was very attentive and could take care of Seth just as well as I could, so I figured, why do they need me?  I opened up to my husband and told him how I was feeling.  He kept telling me that they needed me and that I was a good mom.  I was not convinced.

I felt like I was the weakest I had ever been in my life.  I was counting down the days until my husband had to return to work, and I thought my life would end.  This intruder, this small precious baby, was ruining my life.  The guilt was more than I could take.  I had so much guilt from everything I was feeling and thinking.  How difficult it is to see such a beautiful, helpless baby and the first thing that comes to your mind is, "why are you here, why did I do this".  Every time I had negative thoughts about my baby and about being a mom (which was all of the time) I had tons of guilt.  I felt so bad, and I had no idea how to change everything.  Eventually my husband was able to get another week off of work.  I was relieved for the first few days, but then the countdown began again.  How was I ever going to do this?

Throughout those first 3 weeks, my husband tried to get me out of the house and doing other things.  I was so filled with anxiety that I didn't want to be gone for long.  We would take car rides and I would just stare out the window.  Sometimes I really wasn't thinking about anything, just staring.  Other times I was thinking about everything and wanting to run away.  I would look over at Seth and tons of anxiety would rise up in me.  He was peacefully asleep in his car seat.  There were times I remember looking at him with so much anger.  My husband would continue to say that things would get better.  From where I was sitting, things never seemed like they would get better.  My life would never be the same.  This little life would always need me and I had no idea how I was going to survive the anxiety and stress of knowing that.  I sat in the car unable to sit completely still due to the state of panic I was almost always in.  I wanted to be normal, but I felt as far from normal as I could.  Eventually the ride would end and we would go back home.  I remember walking in the door and seeing all of the baby items strewn throughout the house.  It was like a slap in the face, a knowing that this was never going to end. 

Today I am still searching for the end to all of this.  As you will see, things have gotten better, but not everything is fixed.  Thankfully I know that "His strength is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor 12:10).  I know that I am weak, but He is strong and He will continue to help me through.

Not More than I can Bear...Yeah Right!

The last few days that my mom was with us, she spoke with my husband about how I may need to get some help.  My husband and I had been praying for healing and we were both putting our faith in God's healing.  I did not seek help from doctors, but rather I just called on the Lord.  He helped me through a lot, but one thing I didn't think about was...God has His own timing, and although I had prayed continually for healing, it didn't mean that it was going to happen right away.  I was very disappointed that I did not receive my healing right away and my depression worsened. 

Before my mom left, two of my friends, Karen and Becky, stopped by to visit.  They were such a blessing.  Neither of them were aware of my condition.  Because they are my friends, they knew right away that something was not right.  They encouraged me and brought gifts for my son.  Becky also brought a gift for me.  It was a necklace that said "Mother".  I still do not think that she realizes how much this meant and still means to me.  I began to cry and thanked her.  I began pouring my heart out to my friends.  Karen and her husband reassured me that there is a period of time after giving birth that a woman is very emotional and that I was probably just going through that phase.  I felt some relief because I thought I was the only one.  It also made me think that this would all end soon!  Unfortunately it didn't, but it was at least good to know that I wasn't the only mom who was bawling my eyes out every day.  Karen and Becky gave me some advice on how to make things easier on myself.  They told me things that they had done with their own children who were also fairly young.  It was helpful. 

One thing that constantly wore on me was Seth having his nights and days confused.  He would be up for hours and hours throughout the night and would sleep all day.  The longer he slept during the day, the more anxiety I would have because I knew I would not be getting any sleep during the night.  My friends continued to reassure me that this would pass and that I would eventually get some sleep.  I definitely appreciated all of their help (and still do).  I was so nervous about everything.  I was logging everything that was going on with Seth and I felt like I was doing everything wrong.  They continued to tell me that I was a good mom and that Seth was healthy, so I was obviously doing something right.  Their visit encouraged me and let me know that I could open up to my friends and they wouldn't think I was crazy (even though I felt like it on the inside).  I kept having thoughts about how mothers have babies every day and they are able to make it through, so why did I feel like I couldn't?  I felt like such a wimp and like such a worthless mother. 

My friend Becky and I talked about a lot of things.  She stayed and listened to me talk on and on about everything.  I don't think she planned to stay as long as she did, but I truly thank her for that.  It is because of Karen and Becky that I was able to later open up to others who would give me strength.

I kept thinking, "Lord, you said that you would not put more on us than we can bear, but I feel like I cannot take anything else.  Why would you give me a child and then allow me to feel this way?  Why do I feel like I don't want him and that my life is ruined?"  I cried and cried and cried about this.  I spent countless hours opening up to my husband about my feelings.  I couldn't even believe the things that were coming out of my mouth.  Was this really me?  The girl who was so excited about having a baby and being a mom.  Did I really feel like my son was an intruder in my life?  How could I have had such a great pregnancy and delivery and then want to just walk away from it all?  It was like I was having an identity crisis and I just wanted to LEAVE. 

Despite those feelings, the Lord did sustain me through everything.  I never left...and trust me, I thought about it all of the time.  If it wasn't for the strength of my Lord, the support of my husband and mom, and the support of my friends, I truly have no idea where I would be.  I honestly may not be on this earth today.  The Lord is true to His Word--He will never put more on you than you can bear, even if you think you cannot take anymore, the Lord will give you the strength to press through.

Our First Week (with my Mom's help)

Well, the day we arrived home (3/18/10) was interesting. I remember laying a big blanket on the living room floor and placing Seth on the floor. I laid next to him and we just stared at one another. I was wondering how I was going to connect with this little baby laying beside me. I had been nursing and thought that due to nursing I would automatically have a stronger connection to my child, but again, what I thought ended up being wrong. My mom came and stayed with us for about five days. I am so grateful to her for helping us. I felt completely helpless and although I had prepared for the baby, I had no idea what to do once I got home. It was as if I had never even been around a baby before. My mom showed me and my husband how to bathe Seth and how to clean his umbilical cord. She showed us several other things. She helped with washing bottles, doing laundry, and making meals. I have no idea what I would have done without her. I felt like I was completely inadequate and that there was NO possible way that I could do everything without her. I cried every day--multiple times per day. I cried about how I was not sure what to do with this new baby. I cried about feeling like I could not handle all of the motherly duties that I was supposed to be taking on. I cried about being worried about Seth not eating enough, spitting up too much, not sleeping enough, not being on a schedule, and on and on. Every time someone told me that I should be doing something that I had not done, I was immediately overtaken in anxiety. I would constantly think about what I had been doing wrong. I thought about how now my son was going to be "screwed up" because I had not made the right decisions. I worried and worried and worried to the point of having panic attacks.

The panic attacks started about three or four days after being home. I would try so hard to sleep, but I couldn't. Every time I went to lay down, I was overwhelmed with anxiety. I was worried about Seth. I was worried about me actually getting some sleep. I was worried about everything! I would lay down and not be able to fall asleep. I would lay on my side and I could not quit moving my legs, I would start sweating, my feet would start going numb, and my heart would start racing. With all of that going on, it was impossible to sleep. If I got up and made myself busy, some of the anxiety would go away, but there was always some there because I was worried about not getting any sleep. Eventually the panic attacks worsened. I could not sleep at all and I was breaking out in hives on top of all of the other issues. I was virtually running on little to no sleep and felt like I had made the worst decision of my life.

Because of this, I was constantly asking myself why I had made the decision to have a child. I thought we were wrong in having a baby and maybe we were better off without having a child to begin with. Unfortunately this feeling did not go away for several months. I know that most moms go through a phase of emotions, possibly the baby blues, but you know it is something different when the weeks turn into months and you are still not better. The hives worsened and so did my depression. I thank God for my supportive husband and my wonderful mom who helped support me through these first days and every day since then. I thank my God who heard every one of my cries. I might not have felt like He heard them at the time, but looking back, He definitely did or I wouldn't be here today.

Eventually my mom had to go back home. I was thankful for her stay, but I had NO idea how I was going to handle this on my own. My husband worked from 11pm until 7am, so I was really in a bind! I just could not get over my thoughts...of making the biggest mistake of my life!

The Days after Giving Birth

Well, my son was here! I was excited and trying to encourage myself to be happy. Those two days after giving birth were pretty much a blur. I knew deep down that things were not how they were supposed to be, but I figured I was just tired and stressed from everything I had been through. We had several visitors that I was so happy to see, but my reactions were not typical of my personality. This should have been a "red flag" for me, but I again figured it had to do with being tired and going through the strain of childbirth. There were times that people would come in and see my son and not too long after entering the room, I would hand him over. I never asked them to wash their hands or use sanitizer. I never asked if they had been sick. I never did anything that I would typically do if I was "myself". I never asked anyone to take pictures of our new little addition and our new little family. Thankfully, some of our visitors did take pictures of us, so we do have some, but I myself never asked for this to be done. I wanted pictures of our new baby, but it never occurred to me to get the family pictures.

As I stayed in the hospital, I realized I was having anxiety. I could not sleep. I was afraid that my son would stop breathing or the blanket would cover his face and he would be smothered. I had him in my room and would just stare at him as I longed to sleep. At one point, I did somewhat give up and allowed the nursery staff to take him so I could get some sleep. That two hours of sleep was helpful for the journey I had ahead of me...almost two months with little to no sleep. I was very irritated with the hospital. Every time my son had started to fall asleep, and as I would start to drift off, they would enter the room and wake us both up. I think at one point I was somewhat rude to the "picture lady". She came in to take the newborn pictures and I told her it wasn't a good time and that she would have to come back the next day. Evidently I did not say it very kindly because I never saw her again, nor did we get newborn pictures taken!

The hospital stay soon came to an end and we were released. I was ready to go home, but at the same time, I felt like I just didn't care. I was "happy" to have our baby and to be going home, but something just wasn't right. I got in the back seat with my son and stared at him the entire way home. I was concerned about him. I wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that his head was snug in the car seat, but there was something empty about my gaze upon him. It was almost as if I had never even had him. Of course I was still healing from the delivery, so I knew that I had in fact given birth to him, but as I stared at him, I could feel my anxiety rise and I wondered how I would ever be a good mom. I thought, "he is not quite three days old and when I look at him, I am not overjoyed nor am I excited." We never really put him in his "going home" outfit, nor did we change his clothes in the hospital. I had brought several outfits for him, but never changed him until the last day. Looking back, there were sooooo many signs that I should have caught onto, but how was I supposed to know? This was my first child and I figured this was all normal. Some moms will say that it is all normal, but as the weeks passed, I realized that things were not "normal".

Again, I have to say that I did and still do love my son. My feelings were not my own. You will later hopefully understand what I mean by this. It is very difficult to write these posts knowing that I love my son with all of my heart. The only reason I am writing is in hopes of reaching someone else who is suffering from PPD. To know that you are not alone and that things can and will get better. Writing my feelings about my son and about myself is not easy, but I feel it will help someone.

An Easy and Beautiful Pregnancy and Delivery

It was July 23, 2009, the day I found out I was pregnant! I couldn't believe it. My husband and I had decided that we would start trying to have a baby--that was in May! My friends and I were planning to go to Holiday World that day for a "girls day" we had been trying to plan for years. Every other year, one of my friends was pregnant, so we could not go. This was finally the year that all four of us could go and ride all of the rides. I decided to take a pregnancy test before I went on the trip "just to be safe." Well, it's a good thing I did. I was pregnant! My husband and I were so excited. The trip to Holiday World was fun. I was cautious, but it was still fun. I had a blast telling my friends that I was finally expecting. I mean "finally" because my husband and I had been married for almost five years and everyone was bugging us about when we would finally have children. My friends were ecstatic! From that day on things went great for the most part.

I had my sonograms and was able to see the baby's heartbeat and eventually the rest of him. I had very little sickness. I didn't have too much pain, and I was able to work up until the day I had him. I couldn't have asked for an easier pregnancy. Then, the fateful day came. My water broke around 11:30pm while my husband was at work. I called him, he sped home, and off we went to the hospital. I had my son at 4:46am on 03/16/2010. My labor was quick and although my epidural did not fully work until it was time to push, I still cannot complain one bit about how everything went. Not only was labor and delivery much better than I had anticipated, my son was finally here. He was healthy and was beautiful. He looked just like his father--and still does! I looked at my son and could not wait to hold him. As the nurse handed him to me, I was waiting for this moment of awe, this indescribable moment of joy, this moment I had been waiting for for 29 years, but for some reason, it did not happen as planned. I figured it was just because I was worn out. Several mothers had said that it took them a few days before fully realizing what all had happened and really connecting with their babies, so I figured things would be fine. I was married to a wonderful man, had a healthy baby boy, and had all of the support a woman needed...but one thing was wrong, I did not have the joy that I longed for.

I can say that I thank God for my son. He is the most beautiful, loving, and wonderful boy in the world. He makes me smile, laugh, and look in amazement at what God can do. I have never fully believed in God as much as I did the moment I had my son and saw what God had created--my own little boy!