You Down With PPD?
I know, I just showed my age and proved I’m a 90’s Hip Hop head!
Baby Blues, The Blues, Hormones, whatever you want to call it…
Historically, this has been one of those widely misunderstood, stigmatized and shamed experiences of motherhood. In recent decades, our society has talked about it more and more, but usually at the extremes of postpartum psychosis- when desperate mothers harm themselves or their children.
It appears that the more nuanced aspects of postpartum depression are finally being recognized. I have noticed more people check in with a Mama about how she’s feeling, is she showering, is she eating, does she need a break, and that is a fantastic thing. There definitely seems to be a shift from perceiving the Mama with postpartum depression as an outlier to viewing her as more of the norm.
As a pregnant woman with a history of depression, I think I had a heightened awareness about postpartum depression and I read up on what to expect-after I was no longer expecting. My Mom and my sister were on the lookout and promised me that they would check me if I got out of line, lol. I figure I was all set.
So here we are, the long-awaited baby is born. My health is at risk due to pregnancy-induced high blood pressure. I bring her home and I don’t really remember much about the first few weeks. The memories that I do have are filled with fear and panic. My child was born a little early. She was colicky. She had reflux. She was (and remains) ridiculously attached to Mama. But she was home. Safe and alive. And I loved her immensely.
My husband was all in. He did diapers. He cooked. He cleaned. He bathed the baby. He did laundry. He bottle-fed her breast milk. He came to every newborn doctor’s appointment. Then... Sometimes he would leave the house and have free time (What the hell is that?) Sometimes he would go outside and wash the cars (No sir, please let me go outside for fresh air alone). He also slept very soundly. He slept through my cries, the baby’s cries, her projectile vomiting. He slept so soundly, in fact, I thought about smothering him with a pillow. No lie. Oliver was not safe at home.
People came to visit and fawn over my beautiful girl. I showered. I dressed. I tried to clean up. I smiled. I entertained. But you know what? I was NOT OK. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t get organized. I felt overwhelmed by what had to be done, but I couldn’t figure out what to do next, or first, or ever! I couldn’t stop worrying about my baby dying in her sleep. What would happen if we were out in public and something happened? What “something” might happen? Who the hell knows, but I certainly was worried about it and I was terrified to leave the house with my baby.
I totally looked OK on the outside. Loving my baby. Eating ok. But secretly-wanting to kill my husband, feeling confused, angry and irritable. And angry. Lots of angry.
At every pediatrician appointment or my OB/GYN check-ups, I was asked similar questions:
Do you cry uncontrollably? Nope.
Do you worry that you can’t care for your baby? Nope.
Do you have thoughts of harming yourself or your baby? Nope. (They never asked about the husband, lol)
Do you feel sad or empty? Nope.
Do you have a lack of appetite? Nope. I’m breastfeeding and eating like crazy.
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOUR BLUES TURN RED??
I checked my boxes and we moved on. This happened for 3 months. Until a friend who is a licensed clinical mental health worker looked at me and saw right through the bullshit. Jane, wherever you are, THANK YOU. Thank you for encouraging me to tell someone what I was not OK. I finally, told my OB/GYN about wanting to hurt Oliver and being afraid to leave the house with the baby. I told her about the feeling of panic and immobility.
And she told me, “Cassandra you have POSTPARTUM ANXIETY”.
Well damn! Leave it to me to have some shit that Dr. Google didn’t even know about.
There you go ladies and gents, women can have postpartum depression and/or anxiety! I got a therapist who specializes in PPD/PPA. She put me on a low dose anti-anxiety medication that was compatible with breastfeeding. We met every week while I was on extended maternity leave. It saved my sanity and allowed me to actually enjoy spending time with my baby and my husband.
Below are some newly updated websites with checklists that include questions about anger, rage, panic, fear of leaving the house and so much more besides “Do you want to harm yourself or your baby?”. Thank goodness the medical community has caught up and is recognizing that we Mama’s are going through it when the cute little babies come home! We need those non-judgemental check-ins. We need a super long hug. We need someone to look us in the eye and ask with all sincerity, “HOW ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU OK?” And we need to know that everything will be ok. Even if it’s not right this minute.
Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale
