If you’re coming across my blog for the first time, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lorie. I’m a momma of three awesome kids, a wife, an occupational therapist, and a believer that the only way to change the conversations around mental health is to have conversations about mental health. I have experienced a variety of mental health conditions such as ADHD, depression, and anxiety. In this article, I want to discuss my experiences around post-partem depression (PPD for the purposes of this article). I experienced PPD after each of my three children, but my first PPD was by far the worst. It was the darkest period of my life, but I feel like we don’t hear a lot of stories about PPD or how to cope with it. In all the pre-baby classes that I took, in all the books and articles that I read, the information on PPD was slight. It was often mentioned in passing as something to look out for in the post-partem period, but the details on what to look out for were either non-existent or the stigmatized versions of the worst-case scenarios. In the thirteen years since I had my first child, I feel that the conversations around PPD have started to change. However, we still have a long way to go and one of the best ways to enact change is for women who have experienced PPD to share their stories.
In the pediatrician’s office for my son’s first post-partem visit I remember being handed a questionnaire about PPD symptoms. I filled that form out at least three different times in as many months between the pediatrician, the OBGYN, and my PCP. I knew what those questionnaires were asking, but I never completed them in a way that flagged me as “at risk” for the medical providers. Initially, it was because I hadn’t even accepted in my own mind what I was going through. I didn’t want to hurt myself or my baby, so I thought that what I was going through must be something different than PPD. My son was almost six months old before I finally realized what was happening and he was slightly over six months old by the time I sought out help.
It always struck me as funny that, in America at least, women are expected to work while they’re pregnant, have their babies, and then return to work six weeks later. Nothing about that makes any sort of medical sense. It makes sense for our productivity first society, but our lives shouldn’t be measured by the bottom lines of our employers. A woman’s body takes nine months to grow a baby, changing the woman both physically and physiologically. Having the baby is not an automatic reset of hormones and pre-pregnancy health. In fact, I would argue that everything about the post-partem period, again in America, at least, is set up to be detrimental to the mother’s recovery.
In most instances, when the human body experiences a trauma, such as an injury or a surgery, you’re told that the recovery period might take three months or more. In that time, you’re told to rest, stay hydrated, and to fuel your body with proper nutrition. I have yet to experience anything more traumatic to my body than birthing my children. Despite that, moms have to get up through the night to change and feed the baby. Rest your body? Yeah, that’s not likely, especially if you have other children at home. I remember in my post-partem periods just eating whatever was around or whatever my kids didn’t finish on their plates because making myself a meal—even a bowl of cereal or a sandwich seemed like too big of an obstacle to scale. Proper nutrition? Absolutely not. Let’s not forget that a new mother’s body is not only trying to heal from birth trauma, but in many cases, it’s also producing breast milk. Both of these things require appropriate nutrition, especially in protein, and proper hydration, which most moms are sorely lacking. While your body is still in the throws of healing and compensating for your nutritional deficits, we tack on a return to work. Now, we have to deal with the mental, emotional, and financial load of taking the baby to day care. For me, this was one of the primary factors in my PPD. While I have nothing against day cares or any childcare centers, I felt horribly guilty and depressed that a stranger would be spending more time with my son each day than I would. I often thought about those strangers witnessing major milestones like his first words or his first steps while I was off at work. It was deeply disruptive to my mental state, but was none-the-less something that I had to deal with because I had to work.
In my personal situation, my career is completely focused on other people. It can be a very emotionally, mentally, and physically demanding role and the setting that I was working in at the time checked all three of those boxes. I would work long hours on my feet, taking breaks to pump breastmilk. And by “break,” I mean that I was able to sit down. During those 10-15 minutes, I would do paperwork, eat my lunch, and check emails or other messages. Thank God for pumping bras, so I could have my hands free to work while I was expressing my milk! Once you’re back at work, you’re expected to really be there. Your attention and focus should be on work concerns, not on thinking about the baby that was a part of your body for 9 months and now isn’t. Once you’re home, you’re supposed to be fully present and engaged there. Be the wife who listens to your husband talk about his workday, make dinner, take care of the baby, maintain the household and do it all with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.
Let all of those emotional contradictions really sink in for a minute. Is it any wonder that women experience PPD? Absolutely not! What’s more impressive is that not all women experience PPD because our society is certainly set up to facilitate it. Honestly, I think many more women experience PPD than what are reported, either because they don’t realize that months worth of brain fog is not just a normal part of being a new mom or a mom to multiple children. Or that being irritable, restless, or too tired to get off of the couch are also not just normal parts of being a mom. Our society leans towards telling us that these things are normal. They are just part of being a mother, and you need to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and motor on. This perspective needs to change because it’s costing us the lives of women and children.
The best advice that I could give a mom is that if you don’t feel right—say something and don’t settle until you get an actual plan of action. If you feel like you’re not in your right mind, don’t let someone else convince you that you are. Tell the PCP, tell the pediatrician, tell the OBGYN, tell your spouse, friends, and anyone else who will listen. Given the antiquated views of American society, you’re likely to experience some gaslighting. Keep trudging through it—no one has the right to tell you how you do or do not feel. You know your mind—don’t listen to anyone who wants to tell you that you don’t. Look up mental health professionals in your area and contact them. The psychologist that I worked with through all of my PPDs with was one I found myself. I desperately needed mental health intervention, and I wasn’t going to allow anyone to make me feel guilty or less than because of it. I needed a healthy brain to be a healthy mom for my son, and later for all of my children. Loving your children, loving yourself, and loving other people in your life sometimes means taking time out to work on your own mind and body. That’s not being selfish, that’s making a choice to be better for yourself and everyone around you.
When I told my parents and my husband that I was going to see a therapist for PPD, they were taken aback. My parents were completely surprised because I knew the role that I was supposed to play as a loving wife and a doting mother, and I played it well. My husband, while less shocked by my admission, was not a fan of counseling and he wasn’t convinced that it would help me. However, after about a month of weekly intervention with my therapist, my husband admitted that it was the best thing I could have done for myself and our family. He was seeing the difference that it was making in my attitude and quality of life. He was watching me turn more and more back into the person he married. From that moment on, he has been nothing but supportive anytime that I have sought out counseling or therapy.
After about twelve weeks of weekly therapy sessions, my psychologist recommended that I think about pursuing a medication option. We talked about the pros and cons and why she thought it would be a good option for me. Then, I went and had a similar discussion with my PCP. We did decide to try medication and I’m eternally grateful that we did. The combination of therapy and medication intervention saved my life, and it put me in much better stead to handle my other two PPDs.
Every woman is different and while my experience with PPD is covered here, it’s by no means an exhaustive account of what everyone else’s PPD might look like. For example, I had a horrible time dealing with my return to work, but my best friend thrived by getting a job outside of the house. She tried being a stay-at-home mom and found herself falling deeper and deeper into PPD with each passing day. I desperately wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and couldn’t afford to even try it out and I, too, fell deeper into depression with each passing day. What was the same, though, was a deep knowing that we were not well. She had her experiences, and I had mine, but neither of us felt healthy, vibrant, or like we were enjoying motherhood. This is why I say, if you know that you’re not right, please reach out for help.
At the end of the day, you know your brain and body best and you’re the only one who can take the initiative in fixing it when it’s not right. My hope is that by reading about my experience, you feel empowered to be the author of your own story. I hope that my story provides you with validation, courage, and conviction so that you feel confident and justified in advocating for your own mental health. You are not alone, momma, and I hope you know, that wherever you are, that I’m rooting for you.