So, yeah, my last post was probably a little scary. It might be slightly obvious that I'm in a dark place right now. It shouldn't surprise me because I suffered with postpartum depression after Reagan and Caleb also. Perhaps not quite to this degree. I also don't normally discuss the fact that I feel depressed much of the time or that I also suffered with antepartum depression with all three of my children. It has never felt like something I wanted to "burden" others with. The past couple of days, however, have been excruciatingly frightening. And perhaps it's because there are three kids now, two of them being babies. I felt it was crucial for me to swallow my pride, reach out, and *gulp* ask for help.
So, with tears streaming down my face, a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my hands sweating and shaking I called Kaiser and said the words "postpartum depression" to the person on the other end of the line. The barrage of questions that ensued caused me to wonder whether I had done the right thing. I began to panic that these people were going to think I was a danger to myself or my babies and come take them or me away. I found myself answering their questions very carefully but simultaneously wondering if I was a danger to myself or my babies. Of course not! But? It was then that I realized that making the call was a very important step for me to have taken.
My day continued to be horrible and in desperation I reached out to the one person I believed would be understanding; my husband. I got no response over and over for a few hours. Later in the evening, I poured my heart out to him and my mother to ask for support and understanding. I think I got a little less than I was expecting. Questions about why I was feeling bad, what was making me feel this way, and a whole lot of silence. And then, this morning, when I could have used a hug more than anything in the entire world, I got a shoulder squeeze before he headed off to work. I'm here to tell you that a shoulder squeeze DOES NOT sustain you through a panic attack at the realization that you are once again alone with the babies when you're in the midst of a deep and dark depression.
Somehow I have managed to crawl halfway out of the hole this morning and function as a fraction of my former self but I feel "on the brink". My appointment is in 2 1/2 hours and while I'm happy to have my mom available and willing to watch my kids for me so that I can go, I dread the confrontation with her. I pray there isn't one but my mental health has always been a very touchy subject in my family. It is the main reason for my hesitation to reach out for help in the first place. The history there is very old but still very raw.
I usually pride myself on being courageous and strong and while I know with my head that taking this step IS courageous, I still feel weak and a very real sense that I have somehow let my family down by admitting that I might need help getting through it this time. I looked at my sweet baby sleeping in my husband's arms last night and once again the tears began flowing. She looked so innocent and perfect and the only words I could form were, "Too bad she has such a crappy Mommy." That's not true, though. I know it's not. It's because I love my babies so much that I want to feel better. And it is for my babies that I will give myself the hug I so desperately need and drag myself through the doors of that doctor's office this afternoon.
I am reminded of a story I used to hear when I was in Mary Kay about the donkey in the hole (because I feel like I am in a hole of sorts as well). Like the donkey, I am going to shake this off and step up until I am out of this hole. I am determined to find my joy once again. **If you don't know the story, you can read it here: The Donkey Story.**
Labels:
antepartum,
babies,
courage,
depression,
getting help,
motherhood,
panic,
postpartum,
postpartum depression
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It IS courageous to get help. You are doing the right thing, and I hope you find peace and good guidance at your appointment.
-- Katherine
Thank you, Katherine!
You write beautifully and honestly. Found your blog through mooddisorders twitter.
I went through the same thing and meditation really helped.
http://www.todaysparent.com/lifeasparent/motherhood/article.jsp?content=20110222_151309_5292&page=2#02
It is terribly scary when they start asking all those questions. The heart stopping one is, "Do you have thoughts of harming your baby?" You feel like if you answer the wrong way you are going to have your kids taken away.
You did the right thing. Hear me loud and clear....YOU DID THE RIGHT THING.
Even those who love us the most can't possibly understand the pain that PPD brings, it's so much deeper than "just hormones". They don't know what to do about it. I really hope there was no confrontation, only support and love.
Please, call me anytime. Text me anytime. I've been there, done that. I won't try to "fix it" but I will listen. And, tell you how amazing of a mom you REALLY are. Because, you are.
You absolutely did the right thing, and I hope, so much, that it gets you the help you need and deserve.
How did it go? I'd really like to know. Sending good thoughts.
"Its because you love your babies so much" is why you want to get better. Remind yourself of that, over and over and over again. This is EXACTLY how I felt. I "knew" i loved my kids even if I couldn't "feel" the love so much for them. Did your Dr help with any medication? Meds take awhile to work so the sooner the better and while not necessarily needed for everyone, you may need something. God gifted the Drs with the knowledge about medication. My counselor put it to me wonderfully, if someone had diabetes, shouldn't they take insulin? And how would you feel about that? My youngest will be 2 in a few weeks and I'm still having some relapses. Things will be better again and I will be praying for you tonight.
You are amazingly courageous and no one is thinking those things. Its the conversation in your head, which will get better when you are getting the right help that you need so you can continue to love your babies. They are blessed to have you.
Elise
It is so hard to get past that incredulity. We really do ourselves a disservice by trying to hang on so long without complaining. Because when we are just so far past our wit's end, our network is left grappling with adjusting to the idea of our difficulty.
But, I did [and do] the same as you. It is hard to take their questions as less than an inquisition even if they are just trying to understand the situation. We just aren't strong enough to be the answers person.
Let them see you cry.
It's not your family's fault that you have a mental illness. They will probably always take it that way. You are doing the right thing. If you can't handle the conversation with you mother, say so. Then walk out if she continues. It's okay to have limits.
You are doing yourself a lot of good. Don't think because you are starting to let people see the ick you feel that it is going to consume you. You're going to be just fine.