Infancy Without Postpartum Depression, what we did this time around

At the end of October Baby Tee will be ten months old. He is crawling, pulling himself to standing, cruising, and saying "mama." He laughs at his older siblings' silliness and they love to perform for him. He likes cheerios, sweet potatoes, graham crackers, and his mama's milk. He has seven teeth and sometimes I think he looks like an elf.

Can I just tell you that I am completely smitten with him? Some things are tough, of course, like teething and night nursing and all the food he drops on the floor, but he is so sweet and so lovely and my heart bursts with love of him.

I've never had an experience like this before. All my other children's infancies were shadowed by postpartum depression and now that I see what life with a newborn is like without PPD touching it I am incredibly sad that we were all robbed of happier days and a lighter, more peaceful, more loving home. But I am also so incredibly grateful that this time I have not suffered from PPD.

There were moments I was afraid it was coming. One night in particular I was so tired and so anxious. My anxiety kept me awake after a night feeding and I paced the house, I sobbed in the family room, I shook with fear, and I kept seeing this picture of a spiraling, Wonderland-like fall of which I was standing on the cusp.

When exhaustion or stress crept up on me, as they did a couple of times, they showed themselves through anger and an inability to tolerate anything. In the past I would have succumbed - I would have gone crazy. I had...

... but this time was different. We were proactive and we had plans in place. We knew that exhaustion and stress triggered my spiraling into PPD and so my husband, my mom, and I decided what we would do. In the end I would say three things really helped me get through this postpartum period without succumbing to postpartum depression.

First, and probably most importantly: sleep. My mom basically moved in with us for the first few weeks, waking up with Tee's cries, tending to him until she had to get me to nurse him, sending me back to bed immediately after he finished eating, and putting him back to bed. She and Travis made the meals and with he and me sleeping well at night Mom was able to nap during the days. My mother-in-law also helped by relieving my mom and occasionally keeping the older kids at her home. I sat with the kids, rested, and nursed the baby  - and for months that was pretty much all I did. In the months that followed those first six weeks I did not hesitate to put on a movie for the kids and nap, ask my mom or husband to watch the kids so I could sleep, and / or go to bed at 8pm.

Second, I allowed for a lot of quiet and introspection. I spent a lot of time observing how I felt physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I prayed, I read my Bible and Beautiful Mercy, I asked for other people to pray for me, and I used Jenna Hines' book 30 Days to Calm.

Finally, I took pills, but not medication like before. My midwife prescribed for me to take Omega-3 supplements (EPA-DHA 720, 1-2 at a time, four times a day) and Magnesium Glycinate (300mg, 4 at a time, 4 times a day). They were amazing. They helped me relax and just... feel good. I know that seems like a vague statement but it's true. If I started to feel overwhelmed I would take my pills and within thirty minutes I was calm and relaxed. I felt little to no anxiety and I slept better with them. I don't think these pills alone would have worked for bringing me out of my former PPD, but they were wonderfully helpful for keeping it bay this time.


In the end, this has possibly been the best year of my life. I have six amazing children, a husband who loves me immensely, and a devoted mom (and mother-in-law). As a family we have hit our stride and we are thriving, happy, and full of love. That might sound cheesy but I don't care. I've always like nachos.

PS - Speaking of babies, I was invited to be a contributor to the Waiting in His Word: A Couple's Journey Scripture Study on fertility. Nell, Nancy, and Laura have done a fabulous job of bringing together women and men with a wide variety of experiences: loss, adoption, infertility, hyper-fertility, foster care, and more. You can learn more and buy your copy here.


PPS - Not to sound silly, but I would love it if you'd vote for A Knotted Life over at the Fisher's Net Awards. I mean, who else gives you blog posts about food allergies, miracle babies, parochial school, parties, and fashion for barrel-shaped bellies? I mean, when it comes to that combination you know that I am the BEST.


PPS - I am definitely not saying that these three things are all you need to do to beat PPD, and please, please, please know that there is no shame in getting help - be it a therapist, medication, a nanny, etc - to overcome postpartum depression or any mental illness. If you think you have PPD please talk to your doctor or midwife. If you are still pregnant and worried about suffering through another bout of PPD, as I was while pregnant with Baby Tee, then perhaps this post will inspire you to think about your own triggers and create a plan with your loved ones so you can get the best care.

 

Calm down, crazy: Movies and my experience with postpartum depression

Anyone who was around long enough knew something was wrong with me.

I could get out of bed in the morning. I didn't sleep all the time. I didn't cry easily. Those things weren't there.

But I had no energy. I wanted things to be perfect and I stressed out trying to control it all, feeling anxious and jittery while doing so. At the same time I was lethargic and felt too tired to parent my kids like I saw others parenting their kids.

And I yelled. A lot. I punched the walls and slammed doors. I freaked out and lost my temper over ridiculous things.

When I was postpartum with my first I asked about postpartum depression but was told that I was just overly exhausted. I just needed more sleep.

More sleep helped, but there was still the anger that was always right there, right under the surface, just about to erupt.

Travis took me on a walk and he told me that I was different and that he knew I could get better and that he and the kids needed me to do so.

But I didn't get better. I tried praying it away. I tried confession and Mass and begging God to take it away but I also never told people, including my confessors, my husband, or even God how bad it really was.

One night Travis and I watched the movie The Prestige. It's a really interesting film, very well done, starring Christian Bale, Michael Caine, and Hugh Jackman. It's about magic and morality and secrets and in it one of the characters hangs herself.

I secretly watched that scene over and over again: a broken woman swinging from a beam. I was terrified by it, by how much I was attracted to it.

But my real temptation wasn't a noose, it was the car. Most times I drove over a bridge I thought about just driving off. Or I thought about leaving. If I put on a movie, gave the kids some snacks and left fifteen minutes before Travis was due home from work everything would be fine. Surely everyone would be better off without me there, a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

For five years my family suffered and I suffered and our home was happy-ish, but not right. And then a day came and one of my little kids made a little mistake, something so small it feels silly to even call it a mistake. But I was livid and I snapped and the magnitude of my reaction scared me.

I had had enough and in my shame I reached out to my midwife, who prescribed me medication, and a group of friends, who agreed to come over during the day so I would not be alone with my children as I adjusted to the drug and took time to sleep and take care of my newborn baby and myself.

It was only a matter of months before I could see how improved my life, my family members' lives, and my home atmosphere was. But in the year since I've learned something else:

I had no idea how crazy I was until I was experiencing normal again. 

If it was a movie that first attracted me to acting out on my depression it was a movie that helped me look back on it and see it for what it was.

Since the first time I watched Silver Linings Playbook I have watched it again and again and read the novel it's based on. Watching the characters talk to one another about their meds, their mental illness, and the way they acted out because of it was healing for me. There's one scene where Jennifer Lawrence's character tells Bradley Cooper's character to "Calm down, crazy!" and that's exactly what I needed. I needed to hear people acknowledging their craziness.

On this side of normal I laugh things off. On this side of normal I don't lose my temper multiple times a day, if at all. On this side of normal I don't think about leaving my family and I definitely don't think about killing myself. Even more telling, while those thoughts made me feel very little or nothing during my crazy season, to think back on them now makes me sob.

I'm so grateful for where I am and what I know now. Should another pregnancy happen, my husband and I know what to watch for and I will not wait to ask for help. Turns out, it's not normal or healthy to think death and abandonment on a daily basis. It's not normal or healthy to live with your temper always about to explode. It's crazy, literally and figuratively.

This post is part of a blog hop, hosted by Katherine from Half Kindled, in order to raise awareness for Maternal Mental Health Month. I encourage you to read the other posts in the blog hop:

Jenna from Call Her Happy
Rosie from Check Out That Sunset
Jenny from Mama Needs Coffee
Laura from This Felicitous Life
Katherine from Half Kindled

You can read my other posts on PPD:
Noteworthy events I've been doing and why
What I didn't know I had lost from PPD
Little Moment Parenting
Pride and Postpartum Depression

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A Letter to Myself as a New Mom

I overheard on the internet some young moms planning out their motherhoods, with pins and homeschool blogs and library reading lists giving them all sorts of information, none of which they can do anything with as they still hold their first babies. It all reminded me of myself six years ago, of the woman and mother I thought I was and was going to be as I mapped it all out. The more I thought about those new moms the more I thought, "It's not my place to tell Sally and Jan that their Pinterest boards are likely setting them up to feel like failures. But if I could give myself some advice, what would it be?" Well, friends, this is what it would be. This letter is to me and for me and maybe you will relate and maybe you won't. Either way I'd love to hear what you'd tell your new-mom self if you could.

Dear Bonnie,

You have a beautiful little girl. She is gorgeous. Right now you feel exhilarated. Soon enough you will feel overwhelmed. Six years later I (you) have learned a few things and I want to share them with you.

The transition of having zero kids to having one will be the hardest thing you do in the first 32 years of your life. It will be harder than a seven week stay in the NICU. It will be harder than the stress of living paycheck to paycheck. It will be harder than going from one to two, two to three, three to four, and four to five kids. And you do that in five years and zero to one is still the hardest so cut yourself some slack.

Stop listening to what other people want you to do or think you should do. Trust your gut, Mom, and the law; follow those three and you'll be fine. You will make yourself miserable trying to please all the "they"s in the parenting world.

Don't give a damn about what They say about nipple confusion - give your baby girl a pacifier!!!

Don't listen to what They say about sleeping in recliners or on sofas while holding your baby - it's the only way you will both get some sleep so just do it! Co-sleeping in a bed won't work for you but propped up on the couch you'll be fine. Travis will finally figure this out and sleep in the recliner, holding her for the majority of her first year but only after several long, frustrating, crying-filled weeks.

Don't let Them make you feel guilty about how you wear your baby. Spend some money on an Ergo, buckle her in, and she will be happy and you can wash the dishes and sweep the floor like you want. Better to wear her like she wants to be in a way that makes you comfortable and allows you to keep your home tidy (because a tidy home makes you feel more relaxed). Better that than to not wear her at all and listen to her cry and not get anything done because They want you to try a sling or 54.5 yards of fabric criss-crossed, wrapped around, and tied up in a bow like a freakin' silks acrobat.

Your beautiful little baby cries. A lot. She's super tired and she wants to be held, all of the time. You are super tired and don't want to be touched. Through the years you'll learn that physical affection is her strongest love language and that will be hard for you.  However, being sensitive and wanting lots of hugs and snuggles are just part of who she is, so don't fight it. Work with it. Like I said above, hold her while you both nap. Wear her in that Ergo I already talked to you about. Arrange for people to come over and hold her for you so you can escape to your bed from time to time and nap alone.

Brace yourself for this one a little bit. You have postpartum depression. Yes, you are beyond exhausted but it is more than that and you know it. Do something. Now. Please. You will otherwise spend the next six years wondering whatever happened to who you were and who you thought you would be as a mother. You will spend the next six years raging, anxious, stressed out, and always on the verge of losing your patience, temper, self control. Your kids, husband, home, and self will all suffer because of it. Please.

Finally, let's be frank. Six years later, you're fat. If you don't sleep and treat your depression you're going to spend the next six years binge eating, comfort eating, over-eating. Ten pounds a year in the next six years does not look pretty and it's starting to wreak havoc on your body. Put down the fourth cookie, drink a big glass of water, take your pill, take a nap, and then go for a walk.

Love,
Bonnie

PS - You're a good mom.