My Postpartum Journey
Trigger warning: discussion of anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts.
Since I was pregnant with our first child, Anna, I’ve had anxiety. Something about pregnancy hormones does not sit well with my mental health. I was convinced every day that when my husband walked out the door he was going to die in a fiery car crash and I’d never see him again. I would be alone raising our daughter. I remember laying in bed at night weeping and praying to God Mark would get back home safe.
After I gave birth the depression quickly set in. I was in this terrifying dark cloud of intrusive thoughts and the desire to run away from motherhood or even better (in my mind) to just die. “Anna and Mark would be better off without me” kept playing on repeat in my head. I told no one and I became a master at hiding my true emotions because I thought I could fight it on my on, that one day I would wake up and it would just magically be gone and everything would go back to normal. I felt like a failure because I had postpartum depression and it somehow was my fault. I was terrified but let the shame and stigma of postpartum mental health stand in the way of my healing.
When Anna was only ten months old we had a very big surprise when we found out we were pregnant with our son Isaac. I was angry and definitely didn’t feel ready to add a second baby into our family. It also wasn’t until then, after over a year of suffering, I finally told my husband what was going on and how bad I was truly struggling. I had this giant sense of relief wash over me. There’s this power that is taken away from thoughts and feelings once they are spoken out loud and I was thankful I finally let someone else into my battle.
We quickly worked to get myself into counseling and to begin my healing journey before our son arrived. I talked with my counselor and learned different coping mechanisms to help with my anxiety and depression. I was finally beginning to see the light at the end of the very dark and very long tunnel.
Fast forward to our third child, another son, Malachi. We knew what to expect a third time around, but that still didn’t stop the anxiety and depression from taking over. I isolated myself and the kids, and cried almost every day for about five months straight. I was convinced my new baby was going to catch some type of illness and die. I still don’t understand why my anxiety quickly turns to death, I truly wish I could fixate on something else. My husband is the one that had to get me into counseling this time around, I was fighting it and I’m not sure why.
I’m six months postpartum and I feel like there are finally more good days then bad. I still have my moments, days, or even weeks but I know it’s not going to last forever. I thank God every day that He did not allow me to end my life and that He saw me through to the other side. I get to watch my three beautiful crazy children grow up and they get to have their mom.
If you’re a mama reading this and also struggling, please know you are not alone. There is a light and you don’t need to end your life to escape the darkness. Reach out to someone, ANYONE. Don’t isolate yourself. And if you’re a loved one of a postpartum mom watch for the signs (they aren’t always very noticeable) and advocate for them. Get them the help that they are so resistant to receiving. You did not fail because you need to take medication or see a counselor. You are doing what you need to do to become healthy for yourself and your family.
