Postpartum depression is something you never expect will happen to you. People talk about it, but when you’re getting ready for the arrival of your precious bundle of joy, you never plan for postpartum depression.
Postpartum depression didn’t happen immediately for me, instead it snuck up on me, knocking me over the head like a robber in the middle of the night. At first I didn’t know what was going on, I was confused with my wheepiness, blaming it all on the situation we were in, but soon the wheepiness, turned into crying for hours every day. Feeling so overwhelmed, over touched and just wanting space from my baby. I kept wondering what was wrong with me , how can I feel like this when so many women are struggling with infertility, when adoption can be so gruelling and why this happened to me.
I was eating more than I should as and my weight started fluctuating. I felt like eating was the only thing I could control, because I felt stuck. Having a baby always stuck on you and never getting that break can worsen postpartum depression. I started feeling isolated in my own unhappiness
Well meaning people would worsen it by making comments that made me feel worse by saying things like I should think about how mothers feel that go back to work
no one can know what you’re dealing with, postpartum depression steals away the happiness you’re suppose to feel, it isolates you, adding a dark cloud to every happy moment.
During this time I realized I married a saint, through all my crazy outburst, mood swings, crying and general unhappiness Carl has been there for me not getting mad, just being supportive and always trying to make me feel better.
I’m finally feeling like I’m out of the cloud, not completely in the clear, but surfacing. Talking about it, clearing my head, getting out of the house and letting go of perfectionism, realizing what is important and how to not overdo things have been my saving grace, figuring out what I’m okay with not doing. Three hours of church with a screaming, unhappy baby was one of my worst depression contributors, I could never find Carl to help, so instead of three hours I stay until Arren can’t deal with it anymore. That’s made a happier family situation for all of us. If Arren was teething the night before and sleep in on Sunday , I just don’t go to church, because sometimes you just have to figure out what works for you.
Postpartum depression is one of the most horrible things I’ve ever dealt with, but it can be beaten. There is always light on the other end of the tunnel. you don’t need to lose yourself completely to beat it. Through all the horrible days, there were always really good days where I couldn’t believe how lucky I was, and those days outnumber all the bad ones now.