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{tiny Sadie at 7 weeks old | photo taken by Jason}
I have written two posts on postpartum depression (yes, MY postpartum depression) and both of them sit in my drafts folder collecting dust. I wanted to write about my experience because I felt the need to share what I’ve been through. I had alluded to my PPD in several previous posts, but I never wrote the words postpartum depression until today. I feel bad about that. Postpartum depression is so common and is not something to be ashamed of. (I never was.) I didn’t want to do a disservice to other mothers and women by keeping it behind closed doors by not calling it what it was. That’s why I’m saying it today. I had postpartum depression.
The fact is that if I can have it, anyone can have it. I wanted you to know that I’m a real person and although my life is pretty great most of the time, you’re not always getting the whole story. Even a happy person like me can be hit by PPD. It does not discriminate.
So a couple of weeks ago, I sat down and emptied my heart onto the page. I wrote about the darkness, the insomnia, the crying, the loneliness, and my amazing husband who was by my side through it all. And then I wrote another post because the first one only scratched the surface.
Two weeks after writing those posts, I haven’t published either one. I’ve asked myself why. Yes, they are both vulnerable and raw, but I usually don’t shy away from sharing myself in that way with you. So I dug a little deeper and I think I’ve finally realized why I’m not ready to share all the details (and maybe I never will be).
The truth is I’m happy now and I want to savor it.
Maybe that’s the most important thing I want to share with you. There is always hope. Let me repeat: THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE.
Yes, I had postpartum depression. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I walked through fire. And here I sit on the other side, madly in love with my life, my family, and my amazing little girl.
As hard as it was, I can now appreciate the journey I’ve been on. There is a new depth to my joy that wasn’t there before. I sit in a place of gratitude and that’s where I want to focus my energy – not on rehashing the juicy details of my hardships.
Maybe I’ll publish those posts some day. Maybe I won’t. But today, I want to leave some things unsaid and celebrate how far I’ve come.
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I had it too and it caught me totally by surprise. I just kept slogging along and slogging along and one day a friend said that she thought I needed to get some help. I was and had been SO good at pushing forward on my own steam. I didn’t realise that it wasn’t meant to be that hard. That lonely. That draining.
I did get help and it was THE best thing that I ever did.
“They” always say to write and blog about the hard stuff, but more important than that (I think) is the truth that our stories belong to us. Sometimes we have to write them just for ourselves in order to move through them, or recognize how far we’ve already come. There’s integrity in keeping some stories sacred and secret and not putting them out there just because they’re already written or because that’s what we’re “supposed” to do. If you do decide to share it at some point, it will be for all the right reasons and (no doubt) at the perfect time for those who need to see it.
Thanks for your honesty and insight!
I had it too.
And I think not only is it more common than you think, but it’s a perfectly natural and healthy response to what would be called torture in any other circumstances – the sleep deprivation, the total lack of downtime, the long periods of ear splitting noise, the inability to eat, shower or go to the bathroom in a relaxed fashion, the loneliness and sheer boredom.
I personally think that society exacerbates the problem by expecting all women to relish motherhood from the get go and ascribing depression to ‘hormones’ etc. Instead mothers should be congratulated for coping as well as they do.
Nowadays I tell all new mothers that, unless they are very, very lucky, the first six months will absolutely SUCK in the suckiest way. That depression is a very normal response to a horrible set of circumstances and that it will be amazing if they don’t feel down at least some of the time. That is NOTHING to do with their ability or worth as a mother, in fact I would consider them to be more abnormal and strange if they didn’t feel depressed at least occasionally.
And also tell them that one day soon it will pass.
Awesome post and insight,Darrah!
Strangely enough, I never experience PPD with my biological kids, but I did with my last adoption. Many people look at me like I’m kooky when I mention it, but it was very real and it is researched based.
I’m so glad you published this. While I do not have children I do have depression so I can totally appreciate not wanting to dip into the bad once the present becomes great again. I think a lot of people can relate and will find comfort in your post. So thanks for your bravery and honesty and hugs to YOU!
I recognized that something wasn’t right immediately and got help immediately. It was the best thing I did for myself and my family. Thanks for sharing your story, Sandra. It’s nice to know we are not alone. We share these common experiences.
Thanks so much, Alizabeth. It did help me to write it out and get it out of my head. I am always moved when I read other’s stories and appreciate when writers are honest about their struggles. But I’m with you on this one. For now, I’ll keep the full story to myself. Thanks for being here and reading.
I SO appreciate your response. You’ve summarized it in a way that I didn’t have the words for yet. I knew it wasn’t just “hormones” – that my whole world had been shaken up and my reaction was how I needed to cope with it. I love thinking of it as a “natural and healthy” response. Yes! That’s exactly it!
oh, darrah. i experienced ppd and it was such a hard time, but just like other bouts of depression i have been through – it taught me lessons i could not have learnt otherwise.
this – THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE is exactly what i needed to hear right now, you have no idea. x
My mommy used to say to me,”And this too shall pass”. And I said it to you also. And it did. I think I also had PPD, but I hid it under my pillow, swallowed hard, and continued with my life. “No one said it would be easy!”