My birthday is fast approaching. Usually, I would super excited and start planning something extravagant. However, the last few years I’ve felt weird on my birthday. I’ve gotten up early and kept to myself most of the day. I think it has finally set in that my birthday is just another day that will come and go and it isn’t all we work it up to be as children. It’s just another year down. This past year was probably the hardest. I only turned 25 but it was my first year as a mother. I was doing surprising well emotionally with my daughter. But once my birthday hit something snapped in me. My in-laws had offered to take Addison overnight so that my husband and I could do something fun and I could sleep in. My husband suggested it was a good idea so I could get some rest. Well for one, I was up at the crack of dawn, earlier than I would have been had my daughter been home. I was very quiet as usual and kept to myself. I was down right depressed. My husband assumed it was because I missed our daughter and suggested we pick her up early. But I knew that wasn’t the reason. Later on that week I remember coming downstairs in my robe moping around as usual, and my husband finally asked what my problem was. I knew it had finally hit. I had Postpartum Depression.
I had suffered from depression before in my life but never was medically treated. My mom threw me in and out of therapy as a child but would never allow the therapists to medicate me. The depression I suffered with as an adolescent was a joke compared to the pain I felt with PPD. I never really explained to anyone all the feelings and emotions I had. Not only did I suffer from the depression, I had anxiety attacks. I thought had anxiety attacks as a teenager; Ha! I had no idea what anxiety attacks were until I had PPD. The very first one woke me from a dead sleep. I thought I was dying. I considered calling 911 but I didn’t think I would make it ‘til the paramedics showed up. Finally my husband got me focused on my breathing and it finally went away. It wasn’t just the fear of the attacks, it was the pain. I had such severe cramping in my abdomen that caused excruciating pain; deathly pain. I started to get them often. I also started to fear the public. I didn’t like going out of the house. I remember having an attack during my best friend’s son’s birthday party. I was doing pretty well until my daughter started crying. She was overly tired and you could tell from her crying. This caused a lot of attention and that was the last thing I wanted. I remember rushing home, my daughter finally asleep in her car seat, and just balling in my driveway. That was also the last time I saw my friend in about 9 or more months. I completely shut her and everyone else out. I remember sitting my daughter down in front of me and thought out loud all of my emotions. I sat there and told my two month old little girl, how I didn’t know if I loved her. I didn’t know if I wanted her. I didn’t know if I wanted to be married to her daddy. How I thought about running away; I didn’t want this life. I wanted my old life back where I didn’t have to be responsible for anyone but myself. I looked in her eyes and just saw a baby but not my baby. I felt no love or happiness for this little bundle that sat in front of me, I just went through the motions of caring for her without the emotions. I tried to explain my feelings to my husband. I know he tried to understand. But I know I hurt him by what I said. So I quit talking. I dealt with the pain myself. I held it in. I didn’t want my husband to worry about whether I was going to walk out on him and the baby. As much emotions as I felt I never had any intention of following through. And because of that my husband knew I did love our baby. I worried about her. I lost sleep caring for her. As broken as I was on the inside I never neglected her needs. She was cared for. I never wanted to hurt her, I just didn’t know if I was ready for this responsibility. I was finally got help but I was ashamed. I didn’t want to tell anyone I was sick. I made up excuses about what I would be doing during my psychologist appointments. I felt like I had failed as a mother. I knew my past didn’t help my situation but it was good to start talking about things again. Once my medicine kicked in and I was attending therapy on regular basis I started to feel better. I was starting to feel like I had my life in order. Sure I had my bad days but my husband was supportive and helped me through. I was taking my medicine on a regular basis when I became pregnant with my second. My psychologist and I had discussed birth control because she was worried about me having another child in my state but I knew we want more children. We also discussed the risks of my medication had I become pregnant again. When I found out I was pregnant again, I was afraid to take my medications until my OB told me it was safe. I had four weeks until I saw my OB for the first time. I didn’t think it would matter much to be off of them. My family was concerned but after two weeks off of them I was still doing just fine. Then I hit the wall. This was a much harder wall than I had ever hit before. The depression was worse. After we had our daughter, I struggled once again with the farming lifestyle. I didn’t understand why my husband didn’t want to be home every waking moment with our daughter, let alone me. I accused him of not wanting a family. It became the base of most of our fights. When the depression set in, this issue was magnified by 10. Really the only thing I remember during this dark time, was walking out to our porch, where my husband was, and telling him that I was considering an abortion because I couldn’t stand raising another child on my own. After the words came out of my mouth I lost it. I cried so hard. I knew I wasn’t in the right state of mind. I knew what I was saying was wrong but I said it anyways. I said because that was how I felt. I didn’t know why I did. I just remember my husband holding me after that. I think he may have even shed a tear and begged me not to do it. I felt like I had finally gotten through to him how mentally sick I really was. I never meant for it to come out so hurtful but I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. The OB gave me the ok to continue my medication. So I began again. However over the last several months, I’ve been off my meds more than I’ve been on them. Most of it is forgetfulness. I know I need them. I don’t want to go back that dark place. And now I’m afraid of how my PPD will flare up after the birth of my second child. So as my birthday approaches, I am fearful for my feelings. I will be overly pregnant during my birthday so I’m sure between the emotions, hormones, and aches I will shed a tear or two. I just hope it won’t be the start of another emotional roller coaster. I’m on the road to recovery but everybody has a bad day every now and then. #FarmMomLife **This is the first time I have talked about my depression publicly. Please keep all comments positive. This wasn't easy to share. **
1 Comment
Amanda Taylor
7/20/2015 03:40:23 pm
God bless you!! You are not the first person to tell their story and I am sure you won't be the last. But stories like yours, this incredibly hard journey, are the kinds of stories that help others. Your story is the one that inspires those also dealing with depression and anxiety to seek help and to do all they can to move on, day by day, in their lives. Depression and anxiety are very difficult to deal with. Alone, or even with someone. Just remember, please, that you are not alone no matter how bad of a day you are having. You are loved and cherished. You are important and beautiful. I also deal with these string of issues, but they have deemed themselves less then important as I become older and realize that I was truly never alone. Thank you for your story!!! I know it was difficult for you to share, but I thank you. I was never able to share mine until recently either, and it does help. You will always be in my prayers!
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My Medical Statistics: Diagnosis: Major Depression Disorder PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) Severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder Prescription: Clonazepam 1mg Psychiatrist: Psychologist: Moeller, Myers and Associates, Sterling, IL Archives
November 2018
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