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Twin Cities Mom Collective

My Journey Through Postpartum Anxiety and Depression

A year ago this month I sat nervously in the office of a therapist, my new therapist. I clenched my sweaty hands. As they rested in my lap I noticed crumbs on my lived-in yoga pants. Ugh, I should have changed, I should have showered! Did I look as terrible as I felt? She looked at me with her kind eyes and asked, “So what brings you here today?” I took a moment trying to decide where to start, then instantly started sobbing. I looked down in shame. As I reached for the box of tissue I blurted out between sobs, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” And there it was, the truth I hadn’t told anyone since the birth of my son, except my husband. I felt lost in motherhood, and I finally said it out loud.

It took me almost nine months into Motherhood to get to this place, sobbing in a therapist’s office. You see, I knew all about postpartum depression and anxiety. I knew that I was at a higher risk for both because of family history and personal past. I knew about mental illness, what to look for, when to reach out and who to reach out to. I would be fine because I was educated. And then my son was born, and he was adorable and perfect like all newborns are. I never fell in love with another person so quickly. What a rush! We took him home and loved him up.

My Journey Through Postpartum Depression | Twin Cities Moms Blog

It was incredible, exhausting, and if I’m being honest (which is the point here), it was completely overwhelming. Every time a sweet, well-meaning parent told me to ‘sleep when the baby sleeps’ I gagged on the inside and thought, “oh okay, I suppose you’ve hired me a personal assistant, maid, and personal chef.” I was overwhelmed. Throw into the mix the stress of figuring out breastfeeding (hello, and welcome to societal guilt and judgment), plus hormones, plus sleep deprivation, and I was a hot mess. That’s when I was hit with the first wave, postpartum anxiety. If I was awake my mind was racing. What if he wasn’t getting enough to eat? What if I slipped on the stairs and dropped the baby and landed on him? What if we got hit by a car? How good was his car seat? What if I went to Target and he cried and screamed the whole time and I had to leave? I couldn’t shut it off. I would get terrible knotting stomach aches every time I knew I had to leave the house with him. But I carried on, because I knew what this was, this was postpartum anxiety. And because I knew what it was I thought that gave me some control over it.

My anxiety disappeared over those first five months, or I should say it returned to my normal functional level, and I found my groove as a mother. Although I still felt mostly clueless, I felt more in control of my emotions and thoughts. Then the second wave, the dark clouds slowly rolled in. The first dark cloud was my return to my full-time job. There were so many tears, but not from my son. I would cry on my way to work, or on my way home from work, or somedays when it really hurt I would hide in the bathroom stall at work holding in the tears. I questioned every working mother I knew: “So is this it? Is this just what we do?! How?!”

I was assured by many supportive working moms that it gets better, it gets easier. I prayed they were right. However, before I could adjust to the change the second dark cloud came rolling in. I weaned off breastfeeding/pumping and my hormones went haywire. My mood dropped fast and hard. I felt like I was failing at everything. I felt terrible ALL.THE.TIME. I remember sitting at an outdoor concert last summer with my husband and friends watching one of my favorite artists perform and I had to make a conscious effort not to cry there in public because that’s how depressed I was. Happy things hurt, and that’s when I knew it was beyond time to make the call.

I won’t go into the details of my journey to getting better, because each of us is on a different path, a different journey through life. How I got better isn’t important to your journey. I’ll just say that I am better than I was a year ago at this time. Talk therapy played a huge part in that, and building my community of mom friends played an even bigger part. I’ll never be exactly who I was before I had kids, and that’s okay. I’ve learned to embrace the change because I love being a mom. But again, that isn’t important to your journey. Here is the only part that is important to your journey: you are not alone. I’ve been there. When you feel alone and isolated and tired, so tired, reach out! Don’t let denial and pride control your happiness. Fight for it! You are doing a good job. You are enough. You are worthy. Motherhood doesn’t have to be about suffering silently. Reach out!

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2 comments

Newmama2bin5weeks August 14, 2016 at 2:21 PM

Dawn,

You are awesome. Thank you for writing this. Thank you for ending the article with the words that all woman (mama’s or not) need to hear. Don’t deny yourself happiness. You’re doing a good job. You are worthy. You are enough.

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J.P. August 14, 2016 at 9:12 PM

Thank you SO much for posting this. I’m convinced I’ve dealt with waves of ppa and ppd after having my daughter two years ago. Part of me keeps telling myself I’ll “grow out of it” or “it will get better the older she gets.” It comes so hard and so fast from day to day and even hour to hour. Your words really hit home with me because just last week I called to schedule my first thearapy appointment. Wow, that was difficult to even type. I hate that it’s so shameful to say you’re seeking help. As you stated, it doesn’t have to be about suffering silently. I’m not sure why we all feel that is a better alternative to reaching out. Thank you for reafirming my choice to try therapy. I can only hope that I have as great of an experience as you did.

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