I was yelling again. My voice is now hoarse because all I do is yell and scream. This particular moment I am furious with my dog. My hands are shaking, my breath is shallow and rushed, making it hard to catch my breath. At that moment I just wanted to get rid of my dog to stop the barking. A leaf falls and the dog barks. The mailman comes, he barks. He even barks when he’s excited.
The sound of his bark sent pings of anxiety through my body, igniting the fire within. I can’t seem to calm down and I can’t erase the hate I feel for the dog I usually love so much. And yet five minutes later, I am calm and feeling intense guilt for my outburst. I snuggle up with him and pet him for another 15 minutes, wondering, “Why did I get so insanely mad at my dog? Why couldn’t I compose myself? Why was I full of rage?”
What is wrong with me?
I’m 5 months pregnant with my second child and I am always angry. When I am not angry, I am riddled with guilt and anxiety that I may not love this child as much as I loved my first. I am constantly wondering how I can raise another child when I already feel like I am constantly struggling through motherhood.
I didn’t have this kind of anger and anxiety with my first pregnancy, nor did I experience any postpartum depression. I worried that since I had previously experienced depression and anxiety off and on since my teenage years, that I would experience some kind of postpartum mental health issues. But this felt different; this was while I was pregnant, not afterwards.
This anger and anxiety went beyond just being the pregnancy hormones I tried to chalk it up to being. Never had I been this angry in my life. And wasn’t I supposed to be loving every minute of being pregnant? Wasn’t I supposed to glow with anticipation and excitement and not pure madness?
All Signs Point to Yes
There is a sign in the doctor’s office that has those tear off tabs with a phone number on it and I look at it every time I am in one of these rooms. It is a poster for a support network for expectant mothers and new moms experiencing depression and anxiety.
I swear today is going to be the day I point out this very poster and ask for more information. Today is going to be the day that I admit how I have been feeling throughout this pregnancy. But again, she comes in and rushes through hearing the baby’s heartbeat and measuring how big I have gotten since my last visit, reminding me again about weight gain. She never asks about my emotional state- the focus is always on my physical health and my baby’s well being. And I never ask about the poster or tell her how I truly am.
I receive the perfect early birthday present when my daughter is born via c-section the day before my own birthday. I have been miserable up to her birthdate: everything hurt and the anger was still going strong, so when the offered a c-section after reminding the doctor that my son had shoulder dystocia, I jumped at the chance for this baby to be delivered ASAP.
Early Hospital Woes
I am completely unprepared for the recovery and during my five day stay in the hospital, I am becoming increasingly more anxious as each day passes. I am desperately lonely; the visits stopped after the second day. My husband is torn between my 2 year old son at home and caring for me and my newborn daughter in the hospital. Taking a 2 year old to the hospital is a lot of work and there just isn’t enough help outside of him at this point.
Baby girl has jaundice and is losing weight too quickly, I am told and I blame myself. It is all I could focus on- why wasn’t I enough? Why isn’t she getting enough? I internalize everything and have no one to vocalize these fears outside of my husband. I don’t dare say anything to the nurses, who will bullshit me, by telling me that I am doing my best and it’s not my fault. I know it is. She slept so soundly those days, I felt like she already didn’t need me; I had already failed her.
Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale
They gave me the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale “test” before being released from the hospital. I stare at it, remembering the last time I took it: 6 weeks postpartum with my son. I remember thinking then, “I am so glad I don’t feel like they describe here. I am loving all things motherhood!”
I carefully consider each question and answer. I decide to tell the truth: finally speaking up about how I have been truly feeling. The doctor who came to see me after reviewing the test was very kind, describing that how I feel can be normal, but that my thoughts and feelings sound like they are beyond the scope of normal, then prescribing me Zoloft, and recommending a counselor and follow up with my doctor. A weight is lifted off my shoulders.
Feels Like Home…
But the weight does not cease. Going home and caring for a newborn and an almost 2 year old is hard. Doing so with a giant wound in my uterus and a healing incision across my midsection feels impossible. My husband has to return to work sooner than expected and I have to figure out how to care for both, without any extra help. Of course I do not ask for extra help… because that would mean I am already failing as a mother of two.
What I remember most is attempting to put my two year old down for a nap. Not being able to lift him, I created a series of steps for him to climb in and out of bed so I never had to lift him and endanger the staples that keep me from splitting in two. I felt victorious at the time, but looking back
Two weeks postpartum, I see my doctor. I am expecting support like I received from the doctor in the hospital. I am expecting her to give more advice about what action I can take into feeling better. I explain that I have never been so anxious in my entire life; that I feel like a new mother, and not a second time mother. I look at him, expecting kindness and reassurance that I am okay and doing it all perfectly. But instead she looks directly at me and says,
“You’re not depressed. You can’t be depressed, you have a supportive husband.”
I am speechless. I want to scream. My conscious brain knows that having a supportive husband has little to do with how anxious I am. But my subconscious brain begins to tell me that even though I have his support, that I am still feeling this way and that there must be something wrong with me. I am failing. Why couldn’t I do this? Why couldn’t I handle this?
She takes me off the Zoloft, and writes a prescription for another drug that should be taken as needed. I take this medication only once and I fall asleep while holding my baby, nursing in the middle of the night. This can’t be. After my own research, this medication is also not friendly to breastfeeding. This begins the battle with doctors to get the help I desperately need.
And just let her cry if the tears fall down like rain…
Everything worsens during the next eight weeks. My anger persists and I find myself yelling at my young son and getting annoyed when my baby needs me. I worry about everything. I find myself checking on her at night to make sure she’s still breathing. I find myself rocking her longer than I need to because I don’t want to put her down. Then when she sleeps soundly, I convince myself she doesn’t need me. I have failed her.
I struggle to bond with her. I was convinced it was because she sleeps so well. Most of the bonding I did with my son those first few months were rocking him and learning how to be a mother in the late hours of the night. I wasn’t getting this because she actually sleeps.
I torture myself for the first year of her life. I tried several counselors, many of whom disregard my anxiety as typical new mom worries that all new mothers feel. And I must have tried every breastfeeding safe medication until my doctor felt she could no longer help, suggesting a visit with a psychiatrist. There is a six month waiting list. I get on it and wait.
I return to work at 9-weeks postpartum, and I have no focus. Instead I spend hours searching for postpartum support in my area and there is none. I am petrified that everyone knows I am failing, taking everyone’s comments and twisting them into negative attacks on me. I am convinced everyone was always talking about me and my failure as a mother.
Time Why You Push Me
It takes over a year to find the proper medication and another year after that to find a counselor equipped to help me. Many think that postpartum mental health issues don’t extend beyond the first twelve weeks, the fourth trimester. But studies have shown that postpartum depression can last upwards to the first twelve months; some show the first three years.
It’s unfortunate that many healthcare providers are just not equipped to handle and treat women with postpartum depression and anxiety. They are given bare minimum education and there is no follow up with the support (if any is suggested at all) that is needed. The very best thing you can do for yourself is to find the help yourself or contact someone who can advocate for her.
Here are some of the best ways to find yourself help:
- Don’t take “We can’t help” as the final answer. There is always someone who can help.
- Start with your primary, then go to your OB/GYN. Ask both the doctors and the nurses about what help is afforded to you. A nurse in my OB’s office is the only one that noticed a change in me and took action.
- Interview your counselors. Not every counselor is trained in PPD; not every one is a match to you. Find one that has experience with PPD and one you connect with. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t wait. Find another.
- Postpartum Support International provides several ways to help through helplines, a database of providers who can support you, peer mentors, and online support groups. Call a hotline, reach out to a peer mentor or post questions in online support groups. You’ll feel less alone if you know there are others who have been where you are or are currently where you are.
- Get on a wait list, no matter how long, for any postpartum support provider. Tell them you’d like to be on the cancellation list.
It’s hard to keep going when you feel like the world is stacked against you. You made some difficult phone calls; you found a therapist; you started taking medication; you started to do more physical activity during the day and yet, nothing seems to be helping.
It’s a slow process. The medical world doesn’t make it easy for you either. Appointments are never immediate; sometimes finding the RIGHT therapist takes a few tries, but the best you can do is keep moving forward. Don’t give up the hope that the proper help is out there for you. Sometimes it has to be trial and error before finding something small that alleviates some of the symptoms of how you are feeling.
To find a glimmer of hope during the storm may feel like the biggest hurdle for you now as you wait for help. But there are ways that you can support yourself during this time.
You do NOT have to suffer in silence or feel ashamed. Out babies need us to healthy during a time when we are overwhelmed the most.
Brittany Willow Mayer
And there are ways to avoid losing hope as well. I’ve compiled a short list of a few items that keep you moving forward as you wait for professional help:
How Not to Give Up Hope:
- Educate Yourself– Know the symptoms, find out what the treatments are; read all the books and blog posts and ask questions of your healthcare providers.
- Never stop advocating for yourself. You are your own best advocate. You know what it feels like and don’t stop when you hit a healthcare roadblock. The more action you take to move forward with the process of healing, the better you feel. You can’t stop at no. Keep going until you get to the provider who can and is willing to help you.
- Do one small thing every day that makes you feel good. Get dressed. Take a shower. Listen to music loud (of course not while baby sleeps!) and dance your troubles away. Put on makeup. Whatever it is that makes you feel even the slightest bit better, do that.
- Join online communities. There are so many online communities (Facebook, instagram, Tiktok even) that exist for just this kind of support from people who have or have had experience with PPD. Sometimes they have ideas you may not have thought of and if you’re having a tough day, most of these communities exist to help support mothers in these positions.
- Practice gratitude. It goes beyond being thankful for what you have. Of course you are thankful for that. But sometimes if you can find a silver lining in your postpartum depression, then you can come to look at it from a different perspective. Maybe you’ve realized just how strong you are. Maybe you found a new passion. Maybe you appreciate your partner more. Perhaps you teach compassion to your kids by way of how you feel.
- Spend time with your person. Spend time with those that lift you up, who support you (even if they are unaware of how you feel) and who will make you feel like a person again and not just a mother.
- Find a passion/hobby. Find something that breathes life back into you. Something else you can focus on, as you heal, wait for help. Something to distract you, while giving you something to work towards or work on.
How supporting other women helped me heal
I found the right medication. I found the right counselor. I did the work. But the true healing didn’t come until I began advocating for other mamas who felt the same way that I did. I studied to be a postpartum doula, taking courses on childbirth and breastfeeding education and became an infant sleep specialist.
Becoming a resource for new mothers transition into their new roles as a mother through this blog has become my passion. I do not want any mother to unnecessarily struggle and feel hopeless as I had in my quest to find help for my postpartum depression and anxiety.
I had to find it within myself to get the help I needed, and I just want to help women never feel alone like I had felt. By helping other mothers, I acknowledged all I needed to do myself to heal. I now bring my own knowledge and experience to helping other mothers heal themselves.