Dear PPD—I’m So NOT That Into You

Pic­ture Cour­tesy: Time, Inc.

I men­tioned before that I was going through a rough time & how writ­ing here daily has been a life­line of sorts. The rea­son for this is I have Post­par­tum Depres­sion or PPD as it is called. PPD is one of sev­eral Post­par­tum Mood Disorders.

It has taken me by sur­prise to say the least because I assumed baby #4 would just slide in to the mix with­out any prob­lems. In fact, it seems like all the help for PPD is focused on new moms & so I naively thought that since I wasn’t a new mom I’d be fine. I had dealt with a lit­tle anx­i­ety after Mr. J & Mr. G BUT noth­ing like this, this is SO beyond that.

I remem­bered when giv­ing birth to Mamacita & the admit­ting nurse found out she was our third. Her exact words were “You know what they say, If you can han­dle 3 you can han­dle 6″ which at the time being in LABOR was not exactly what I wanted to hear. If I remem­ber cor­rectly Hubby’s eyes bugged out of his head & he said “Wait, huh? Who the Hell says that?!” Mind you I was in LABOR talk­ing about #6 before #3 had man­aged to get her head dis­lodged from my pelvis wasn’t what either of us was in the mood for. Giv­ing birth vagi­nally is sort of like squeez­ing a water­melon through a key hole. You really aren’t in the mood for small talk or plan­ning to expand by 3 more kids at that point.

Yet, we did become preg­nant with D-man our 4th. It was a busy and hec­tic preg­nancy. I worked more than usual teach­ing extra classes, fin­ish­ing my inter­view data, and start­ing my writ­ing. Look­ing back even though every­thing went pretty well & the kids were really excited to have a new brother I prob­a­bly could have taken more time to relax. But up until the last month I was going along pretty smoothly. Then I got sick, fell, & all around was ready to give birth. The usual last month slump where you are simul­ta­ne­ously excited to meet your baby & to evict baby from your womb so you can sit with­out the feel­ing of hav­ing to pee.

D-man arrived & I was OVER THE MOON.

Those first few days were just amaz­ing. I couldn’t stop star­ing at him and the kids were so sweet with him. See­ing their love for this new lit­tle being brought for­ward such hap­pi­ness those first few days. Hubby and I would lay in bed before the older kids would wake up & just look at this new lit­tle per­son we helped make. It never gets old to be amazed by the beauty of your chil­dren. Yeah, there are moments it’s over­whelm­ing but you can do it because you fall in love with your children.

Then some­thing hap­pened. The baby blues didn’t sub­side. Instead they felt worse & worse & worse. I started to cry more & more & more. I didn’t want to talk on the phone, my mind felt foggy, & while I was tired sleep­ing was impos­si­ble. D-man started to sleep but I did not. I felt like a stranger in my own skin.

I sim­ply no longer felt like me. I felt robbed of who I was & the beauty of my fam­ily. The ease I thought of adding my fourth slipped away. I know for a few friends & fam­ily who read this, they did not know this. Maybe the sus­pected some­thing, saw some­thing, but didn’t know what exactly or weren’t sure how to ask (it’s not the eas­i­est to work into a con­ver­sa­tion). Well, this is it.

One day Hubby looked at me, after I had thrown a book, run upstairs cry­ing, & didn’t come down for the rest of the night, and asked “Are you Ok? I love you, I’m here to help you.” My answer was “No, I am not OK. I need help.” And with that an appoint­ment for the doc­tor was set up & Hubby rearranged his sched­ule. That was the hard­est thing I have ever said to my hus­band. I can­not express the love I have for my hus­band enough, the abil­ity to let me be weak & be my strength when I needed it so badly. To hold me & love me his love made me fall in love with him all over again. I thank God every­day that He brought us together.

Then I went to talk to my doc­tor, who is amaz­ing. He lis­tened to me, asked ques­tions, talked about all my options (includ­ing med­ica­tion, AND YES I DO take ONE, not say­ing which one though because every­one is dif­fer­ent talk to your doc­tor about the options) & gave me a hug on the way out let­ting me know it was going to be OK and there was help. He has con­tin­ued to lis­ten when I have ques­tions or con­cerns & I rec­om­mend that any­one who is going through this see their doctor.

And for those who are won­der­ing I know feel more like me. Not per­fect, but me. There are still good days & not so good days, I am a work in progress. BUT I have never been so grate­ful to feel more like me in a long time.

Dear PPD,

I’m break­ing up with you. I know this is a shock to you because I told almost no one we were dat­ing, that is until recently. And still many more are only going to find out after read­ing this open let­ter, think of us like the Spellings only your Candy. Like some sor­did affair (notice I did not say “love affair”) or that bad dye job from when I once tried to go blonde (yes that’s right friends & fam­ily I once tried to go blonde Hubby tried to warn me, but for some rea­son I still tried) that I was too ashamed or embar­rassed to take pub­lic. Per­haps you thought because I told peo­ple about your pres­ence in my life that meant you had been accepted—wrong! You have taken up too much of my time, my hap­pi­ness, and my life. I’m over you.

You’re prob­a­bly think­ing I’ll take you back. And I worry about that too, I know that it’s step by step & I do worry. What if you worm your way back into my life & my thoughts? What if treat­ment doesn’t work & I fall deeper down the rab­bit hole? How­ever, it’s a chance I’m will­ing to take, for myself & my fam­ily. Another day with you in con­trol is one that I won’t survive.

You’re like a bad house guest. Arriv­ing unan­nounced, leav­ing your dirty laun­dry all over my floor, & refus­ing to leave. You ruined what was sup­posed to be the best time of my life. You tried to take away my abil­ity to love, be con­fi­dent, and to know myself. So now I’m kick­ing you out & doing so pub­li­cally. I’m doing it with the help of those I love & who love me. I’m doing it with the help of pro­fes­sion­als who know your tricks, they aren’t falling for what you’re sell­ing. And I’m doing it with the part of myself I still rec­og­nize, the part that you haven’t man­aged to pull down. I’m stronger than I look in that part of myself that still stands tall.

If you still aren’t sure what’s going on. If you still have ques­tions let me make this very clear. I. AM. SO. NOT. THAT. INTO. YOU. I have a hus­band and fam­ily who will love me. I have a present that I love even amidst the chaos. A future before me that causes an inter­min­gling of fear & excite­ment, a para­dox­i­cal feel­ing that makes life so won­der­ful. I’m not will­ing to give ANY of this up. That means you are out. And for the record when you go telling your lit­tle friends about this I’m the one who broke up with you.

–beth

Tagged as: motherhood, pmd, postpartum depression, ppd, rabbit hole