Brutally honest post

Ok, so this is going to be a brutally honest post.  I have things I need to get out of me, but I don’t want to say them out loud and I don’t feel as though writing them in a journal is enough.  Who knows?  Maybe when this post is done, it won’t be what I thought.  I may even delete it.  I guess I’ll found out when I get to the end.

 

Signs of Postpartum Depression in Plain English

See, I told you I was going to get ideas for posts from other blogs.  I know I’ve been writing about postpartum depression a fair amount lately, but it’s because I was so impacted by it, and am so motivated to help other women if at all possible by sharing my experience.  Kathryn Stone at Postpartum Progress posted a list of symptoms of PPD in plain English.  I’m sharing the list here and commenting on each item from my own personal experience. 

• You feel overwhelmed.  Not like “hey, this new mom thing is hard.”  More like “I can’t do this and I’m never going to be able to do this.”  You feel like you just can’t handle being a mother.  In fact, you may be wondering whether you should have become a mother in the first place.   – Oh my goodness, yes!  I really was completely and totally overwhelmed and as much as I hate to admit this, I remember at one point saying to Alan, “What were we thinking having a baby?”  Oh god, that was awful feeling and I felt horrible for saying it out loud.  But, I am willing to admit that now knowing that it was a symptom and not ME. 
• You feel guilty because you believe you should be handling new motherhood better than this.  You feel like your baby deserves better.  You worry whether your baby can tell that you feel so bad, or that you are crying so much, or that you don’t feel the happiness or connection that you thought you would.  You may wonder whether your baby would be better off without you.  – Yup, I was consumed by guilt.   I was terrified that Nate could sense how sad I was and that it would negatively impact him.  I also felt guilty for being “weak” and not able to overcome the “baby blues” on my own. 
• You don’t feel bonded to your baby.  You’re not having that mythical mommy bliss that you see on TV or read about in magazines.  – I didn’t really have this, although at times I was just on automatic pilot in taking care of Nate, not really pausing to enjoy this precious little baby I had created with my wonderful husband.
• You can’t understand why this is happening.  You are very confused and scared.  – Yes, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why me?”  I also was scared of ever being able to take good care of Nate, and convinced there was no way I could ever go back to work AND take care of Nate.  That’s what hurt the most in some ways.
• You feel irritated or angry.  You have no patience.  Everything annoys you.  You feel resentment toward your baby, or your partner, or your friends who don’t have babies.  You feel out-of-control rage.   – This is one symptom I didn’t have.  Or at least I don’t think I did.  Alan may be the only one that can truly say.  There is a lot about that time I just don’t remember, it’s blacked out.
• You feel nothing.  Emptiness.  You are just going through the motions.  – Yes, yes, and yes.  It was awful.
• You feel sadness to the depths of your soul.  You can’t stop crying, even when there’s no real reason to be crying. – Yes, yes, yes, yes ,yes.  It was horrible.  Awful.  The worse I have ever felt, the hardest I have ever cried in my life.  Sobbing for no reason.  At times I was crying because I was crying.  Other times it was crying out of pure frustration of the situation.  Sobbing that I just wanted to get better. 
• You feel hopeless, like this situation will never ever get better.  You feel weak and defective.  You feel like a failure.  – Yes.  Yes.  Yes.  Oh god, how awful it was and how it really hurts to even think back.  I didn’t see how I could ever get better.  Especially those days BEFORE I went to UNC.  Every day was worse than the prior.  Have you seen Office Space?  Where Peter tells the hypnotist every day is the worse day of his life?  That was me, every singe day was worse than the prior.
• You can’t bring yourself to eat, or perhaps the only thing that makes you feel better is eating.  – I barely ate for two weeks.  Lack of appetite is how my PPD began.  On my fourth day of not really eating is when I called my mother-in-law to come help out.  I was so hungry I was physically weak, but I could NOT make myself eat.  Alan couldn’t understand this and got angry with me.  I wanted to eat, I wanted so very badly to eat, because the few times I could eat something, I did feel better, if only for a little while. 
• You can’t sleep when the baby sleeps, nor can you sleep at any other time. – I slept about 3 hours a night for the first month of Nate’s life.  I just couldn’t sleep.  Or maybe you can fall asleep, but you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep no matter how tired you are.   -  Yes, this is part of why I only slept 3 hours in a 24 hour period.  Or maybe all you can do is sleep and you can’t seem to stay awake to get the most basic things done. - This was where I was the day before I went into the hospital.  I had almost given up taking care of Nate, leaving it to my mother-in-law and Alan and I chose to sleep.  Well, they thought I was sleeping, but it really was me just laying in bed, praying for sleep, and staring at the wall.   Whichever it is, your sleeping is completely screwed up, and it’s not just because you have a newborn.
• You can’t concentrate.  You can’t focus.  You can’t think of the words you want to say.  You can’t remember what you were supposed to do.  You can’t make a decision.  You feel like you’re in a fog. – I got annoyed with Alan at times if he asked me to make a decision, especially ones related to food.  He asked what I wanted to eat and I just wanted someone to tell me what to eat.  To tell me what to do.  That’s what Alan, my mother-in-law, and the social worker were doing the day(s) before I went to the hospital.  And that fog?  That’s why so much of Nate’s first month of life is kind of muddled and a black out for me.  I hate that I missed so much of it, but am grateful I got help so early in the grand scheme of things.
• You feel disconnected.  You feel strangely apart from everyone for some reason, like there’s an invisible wall between you and the rest of the world. – I didn’t realize it at the time, but thinking back, this is a perfect way to describe it.
• Maybe you’re doing everything right.  You are exercising.  You are taking your vitamins.  You have a healthy spirituality.  You do yoga.  You’re thinking “Why can’t I just get over this?”   You feel like you should be able to snap out of it, but you can’t. – once the PPD sunk in, I was just trying to survive, not even trying to do anything right.  I wanted so badly to snap out of it.  Thought if just one day I could eat three square meals, or just get 8 hours of sleep, something, anything like that I would get better.  But I didn’t.  I ate less, slept less, and felt worse every day.
• You might be having thoughts of running away and leaving your family behind.  Or you’ve thought of driving off the road, or taking too many pills, or finding some other way to end this misery.  Or you may have thoughts of harming others.  – I never had any thoughts of harm, but I did have thoughts of getting away (not running away for good, just getting away for a break).  The Wednesday before I went to the hospital, I knew my folks were coming to visit that weekend and they were planning to stay in a hotel.  I wanted to just go to their hotel room, by myself, and sleep all weekend.
• You know something is wrong.  You may not know you have a perinatal mood or anxiety disorder, but you know the way you are feeling is NOT right.  You think you’ve “gone crazy”. – I didn’t think I had gone crazy, but I definitely knew something was not right and that I was in a very very bad way.
• You are afraid that this is your new reality and that you’ve lost the “old you” forever. – Yep.  Couldn’t really even remember who the old me was.  I just the state of affairs was the new normal and that I would never feel better.
• You are afraid that if you reach out for help people will judge you.  Or that your baby will be taken away.  – Yes, I was afraid to check myself in to the hospital for fear being judged, as being viewed as “weak”.  I was afraid of the stigma that would be attached to me and to my family.  I never thought my baby would be taken away per se – but I feared losing my family if I didn’t do something.  Anything.  And so, I did.

It’s been hard to go through this list and share my experience because I hate going back to that place, even if only in my mind.  I can still feel the emotional pain, but hopefully by sharing, I can help others.  I think it also acts as therapy for me to some level.  The more I talk about it, the more I get it out of me.  Kind of like when you’ve had too much to drink, if you throw up enough times, you feel better because it’s no longer in you.  Gross, I know, but that’s kind of how this is.

 

CNN.com covers UNC’s Inpatient Perinatal Mood Disorders Program

On Tuesday, CNN.com posted an article about UNC’s Inpatient Perinatal Mood Disorders Program which I took advantage of this past summer.  It’s a good article that was interesting and difficult at the same time for me to read. 

The first woman they write about echos similarities with my case of postpartum depression.  “. . . she stopped eating and sleeping herself. She cried continuously. She started throwing up.”  That was definitely me.  I completely lost my appetite and didn’t really eat for about two weeks.  I was sleeping MAYBE 3 hours a night, and just as I was entering the hospital, I felt vomiting wasn’t that far away.  Brushing me teeth made me gag so bad that I dry-heaved, praying at times that I would just vomit. 

“. . . But there are severe cases: women swallowed up by anxiety, who, despite the exhaustion of a newborn, can’t sleep.”  Yup, that was me.  I got to the point that I actually didn’t want to sleep, because it seemed my anxiety would wane through the day, but if I slept, it came back, full force when I’d awake – be it from a nap or sleep overnight.  I’d cringe at Nate’s cries which made cry myself, which made me feel so guilty, which made me cry further.

“But another factor might be that hospitalization can seem like a pretty scary idea.”  That is so true.  So very very true.  I was terrified of going to an inpatient program, terrified of checking myself in, terrified to admit that I was so bad, that I needed inpatient treatment.  I still remember the drive there.  It was late afternoon/early evening on a Thursday when I got the call a bed had opened up and it was reserved for me.  I felt hope and promise, but I also felt fear and anguish.  I ran around the house packing a few last minute items including a family picture taken hours after Nate was born and a picture of Nate all wrapped in his yellow “Nate” blanket.  The drive was short and long all at the same time.  I hate thinking back on it, it makes me feel uneasy, but I did do it, and it was the best thing I’ve done for myself and my family.

I went, and like the women in the article, it worked for me.  I got the medication I needed and some therapy which gave me guidance.  I came home better, but not well.  I am well today.  It took time, and it will continue to take time.  I have another post coming at some point about recovery.  And how I am still recovering. 

 

 

Resources Growing for Perinatal Mood Disorders

Katherine Stone over at Postpartum Progess has a running list by state of resources availble to women suffering from perinatal mood disorders.  Having personally taken advantage of the program at UNC, I am happy to see there are more and more resources becoming available.

When I was struck with postpartum depression, it struck rather swiftly and strongly.  I went from functioning, able mother and wife to a lump of tears in just a week.  Some women can overcome postpartum depression with a prescription from their doc and a little time, but that wasn’t working for me.  I dread to think what would have happened, how bad I would have gotten, if I didn’t go to UNC’s program.

Knowing how very important such a program was for my treatment and recovery, I am happy to see there are more and more programs becoming available across the country.  Please, if you need help, if you think you are suffereing from postpartum depression, reach out and get help.  There is no shame and there are resources available to you.  It worked for me, it can work for you.

 

Still working my way back up

Thursday was a “bad” day, a down day that left me feeling blah.  Friday I woke up and thought I had bounced back, but then was overcome with anxiety around lunchtime.  I tried to finish the day at work, but ended up leaving around 2:00.  I picked Nate up and headed home to snuggle with my little guy. 

My folks arrived later that evening, taking the middle-of-the-night feeding and the early feeding on Saturday.  It was nice to sleep in.  We did yard work Saturday and went out to dinner for an early birthday celebration at Watt’s Grocery in Durham.  Dinner was delicious.  We headed home and I headed to bed to take a nap.  They took the feedings again that night, which allowed me to sleep in a bit more on Sunday.  They headed home after lunch and Alan headed to work.

That’s when it got bad again.  Nate was fussy and cried on and off from about 5:00 until 7:00 PM.  I was fighting a cold and not feeling well, so I couldn’t quite handle the fussing, so I joined in and cried along with him.  It all made me very nervous, worried that I was slipping a bit in my recovery from postpartum depression.  I think it was a matter of being sick and overtired, so not quite on my A game to handle Nate.  I eventually got him to settle down and go to sleep, falling asleep myself shortly after.

Today I stayed home from work to try and shake this cold.  I am feeling better, but did have a few tears at dinner with Alan, expressing my concern.  I have a follow-up visit with my psychiatrist next week.  I’ll make sure to mention these small struggles and talk to her about it.  Perhaps this is all a part of recovery, perhaps it is adjusting to being back to work full-time, or perhaps it is a signal that my medication needs to be adjusted. 

I’m not going to worry too much.  I’m going to just focus on the good times, the beautiful weather, the happiness that Nate brings to our home.

 

Bad day

When you are being treated for postpartum depression, or depression at all, you are told you will still have  bad days.  But, those bad days will get fewer and fewer, and they will get further and further apart.  I was terrified of the bad days.  I didn’t know what it would be like, how bad it would be.

Well today I am having a bad day, and it isn’t that bad.  I just feel kind of blah.  I really didn’t want to get dressed or go to work today.  But I did.  I feel like I could just sit at home and have a few tears throughout the day.  This bad day is nothing like the overwhelming depression that swallowed me up every day I woke up.  Heck, six weeks ago, if I felt the way I do today, I would have said I was having a good day.

I think it is in part me getting used to being back at work, getting into a new routine, and seeing so very little of Alan.  When he got his promotion, I was still on maternity leave, so although I didn’t see him when he got home at night, I’d see him in the mornings before he headed to work.  Now that I am back at work, I really don’t see that much of him, and it’s hard.  Before his promotion he didn’t have to be at work until 4:00, so we’d have lunch together or I’d work from home to be able to see him.  Now he has to be at work between 10:00 and 12:00 most days, so lunch is out and there is really no point in me working from home, I still wouldn’t see much of him.

I can handle taking care of Nate on my own, that’s not what’s bringing me down.  That baby boy is so beautiful and so sweet and such a good baby.  I love being with him at watching him grow.  I just miss my husband.  I want to be with Alan and Nate and be a nice little family.  I want to go to the park or gardens or anywhere with them, walk around, show off my beautiful family, enjoy their company, and be happy.  I am thinking of taking a Monday or Tuesday off soon so that we can at least have a whole day together. 

So here I am at work, feeling blah, wanting to go home and curl up and just be.  Well I guess what I really want is for it to be tomorrow, a new day, so that I can have this bad day behind me and be having a good day.

 

Looking back

Ten weeks ago today yesterday, I became a mom.  Nate was born and changed our lives forever.  Five weeks ago yesterday, I was “reborn”.  I got out of the hospital after being treated for postpartum depression. 

I just went and reread all of my posts from the past two months and all of Alan’s posts.  It’s very interesting to read them all.  Reading my posts has brought memories back, memories which had started to fade.  Women have told me about mother’s amnesia – where a woman slowly forgets the trials, tribulations, and out right pain of childbirth.  If they truly remembered, no woman would ever get pregnant again!  *lol* 

Well, this amnesia is happening to me a bit, and I am very glad I blogged about the whole experience.  It has allowed me to not forget.  It has also allowed me to see in on myself, remember where I was six, seven weeks ago.  I was in the depths of postpartum depression, thinking I would never be my old self again, never wake up again without feeling massive anxiety, never be able to care for Nate, never be able to go back to work, never be able to truly function again, and never being able to let my mother-in-law go home. 

Here it is, five weeks since I got out of the hospital and I really do feel like my old self.  I wake without anxiety, and actually feel less anxious than I have in years.  I take wonderful care of Nate and am really getting into the groove of being a working mom.  I am back at work, wowing them once again with my awesome Excel skills (they really did miss me, it’s amazing!) and remembering how debits and credits work.  I am a functioning, healthy, happy wife and mother.  And my mother-in-law has been home for two-and-a-half weeks. 

Looking at Alan’s posts (here, here, and here) breaks my heart and fills it with love all at the same time.  I was so out of it, both when they induced labor and when postpartum depression started choking my spirit, that I never fully realized how hard it all was on him.  We’ve really been through a lot both individually and as a couple in the past three months and I am so grateful (although not surprised) that we came out of it together, and stronger.

 

I heart Zoloft

Postpartum depression kicked my ass a month ago.  I ended up back in the hospital to get my meds adjusted and try to find the right dosage to allow me to function.  We did find a dosage that helped, but it was looking to be a long, slow climb out of the hole and back into myself.  The Friday after I got out of the hospital I had a follow-up visit where I was directed to up my dosage one more notch.  That notch was amazing!

I am now feeling like my old self 95% of the time.  I was warned that I will have bad days mixed in, but the bad days become fewer and fewer, and further and further apart.   I was so scared of the bad days, terrified of how bad they might be.  Well, so far, I’ve had one, and it was nothing compared to how I felt before I went to the hospital.  If anything, I simply felt “flat”.  Not even “blah”, just flat.  And I could function the whole day, take care of Nate, eat, talk, run errands, but I would have rather curled up on the couch with Nate and watch TV all day, or just lay there holding him, listening to music.

I have been out of the hospital for about three weeks now, and it seems more like three years.  The Zoloft is working wonders and I really do feel like myself.  It’s amazing that a small little pill can make such a HUGE difference.

I want to reach out to all women out there who are or may be suffering from postpartum (or really, perinatal) depression.  Number one, it’s not your fault.  Number two, it is NOTHING to be ashamed of.  Number three, get help; it works!  Call your OB or your GP and tell them how you feel.  They have all seen it and they are there to help.  And number four, talk about it.  I could not believe how many women in my life came forward and told me they had suffered postpartum depression as well.  It seemed like they thought it was a taboo subject, something they had to hide until I shared the same dirty little secret.  That’s just no good.  Women need to be able to talk about it, get support from friends and loved ones, help from the medical community, and be able to feel okay that it happened to them. 

Now that we’ve figured out my dosage, I will be on it for six to nine months, then slowly taper off of it.  I am more than happy to go slow about it.  I do not want to relapse, so I am in no rush to get off of the medication.  That will come in time and I will trust my doctor to help me find the right time.

 

Progressing

I am definitely progressing and am better than when I got home on Tuesday, and it’s only Sunday.  That’s not even a week!  My doctor had me up the dose of my medication yesterday and I think we’ve hit the jackpot.  Yesterday morning I still had a bit of the anxiety and felt unsettled, but by the time I went out to dinner with my parents and Nate, I was feeling pretty good.  And when I got home, I felt great – like the old me!  The rest of the night was awesome.  I even got to go to bed early since my folks are in town, they took the midnight and 4:00 AM feedings, so Sharon and I both got a good amount of sleep. 

Today I feel really good, much better than I did even 24 hours ago.  The mornings are the hardest – which is pretty typical with depression, but this morning just felt like a normal morning when you aren’t quite ready to get up.  It’s taking me a little longer to wake up and get rid of that groggy feeling.  I am usually a morning person who jumps out of bed and gets going with the day, eating, walking the dog, all sorts of good stuff.  Nowadays, I can’t just get up and eat.  Heck, I even gag when I brush my teeth.  So the mornings are a bit slower to get going, but I feel GOOD today, so I don’t care if I am a little slower to get into the swing of things.

My folks are leaving in the near future and then Alan, Sharon, Nate and I are going out to lunch.  I am looking forward to it which is good, because a few days ago when we went out to lunch I felt very tense and had to force myself to eat.  But my appetite is slowly but surely coming back.  This morning I had some Carnation Instant Breakfast to start, then OJ, then a blueberry bagel.  It’s been at least three weeks since I’ve eaten that much in the morning.  It felt (and tasted) good!

I dont’ want to get too ahead of myself because I know I will have bad days, or at least bad hours.  But those will be temporary and will become few and far between.  However, I know when they do come, they are going to be crushing to my spirit and I’ll need Alan and my family to be cheerleaders and help pull me through it. 

I am having more and more hope, and am able to see more each day, that I will get over this, that I will recover, and I will be my old self.  That feels so good!

 

One week

One week ago I was in the hospital and crying myself hysterical.  It’s amazing what a difference a week can make. 

• Alan tells me a week ago, I couldn’t even change a diaper, and yesterday I changed about six (at least). 
• A week ago I couldn’t really eat, only drink water and juice.  Yesterday I had an amazing dinner out with Alan at Lantern – and then had a whole turkey sandwich as a midnight snack. 
• A week ago I was crying uncontrollably with no end in sight, yesterday I cried a couple times for just  a couple minutes each time and the tears were out of frustration for not being 100% – not out of sadness or the depths of depression. 
• A week ago I was terrified for the future of my family, now I am confident I will get to 100% better and we will (are) be a strong family with lots of joy and happiness.
• A week ago I loved Nathan but couldn’t truly appreciate him, now I love him with all my being,  look at him in awe - knowing Alan and I created him, and I can’t wait for each day to watch him grow and thrive.
• A week ago I loved Alan with all my heart, now I love him a thousand times more as he has been truly amazing, supportive, and caring throughout this hellish experience.

One week.  That’s all it took for me to get where I am.  And I need to keep reminding myself of that; because I still am not as well as I want, and that frustrates me – pisses me off to no end.  I want to not wake with anxiety, I want to no longer have that pit in my stomach pop up, I want to be ME. And I’m not there – yet.  Let’s just wait and see where I am in one week.