runninveggie-blog

[runninveggie-blog]

Yup....about sums it up. 

[runninveggie-blog]

Perinatal mood and anxiety disorder

I want to start by stating that I am not a blogger. AT. ALL. In fact, I hate to write. When I was in school, I’d much rather take a test or do a project for a grade then write a paper. I can’t spell, my grammar is not great, I don’t always know how to punctuate properly...But I think it is important for me to be as open as possible about what I’m going through right now in my life. So ( large sigh) here goes. Please don’t judge me.

For the second time in my life, I am suffering from postpartum depression (PPD). It is classified as a perinatal mood and anxiety disorder (PMADs). According to the Mayo Clinic, PMADs are the number one complication of pregnancy and childbirth. Every 1 in 9 moms will suffer from some sort of PMAD during pregnancy or after childbirth. That’s a HUGE number! But for some reason, it still isn’t talked about ENOUGH. Yes, we as culture, talk about it more than we did 10 years ago, but for some reason for women, we feel like we’re not allowed to be sad. THAT MAKES THINGS WORSE! There have been many times that I’ve thought “I’d better smile and act like I’m happy so people don’t think I’m crazy and try to take my kids away from me.” I mean, how irrational is that?!?! Very....very irrational. 

“I SHOULD BE HAPPY, I HAVE EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED”  JESSIE BRUSH, 2019

Right after I had my son, Jack, who is now 3, I suffered from PPD and PPA (postpartum anxiety). I bonded with him when I was pregnant so intensely that I didn’t want anyone to hold him, or look at him, or touch him. I needed to be the sole caregiver of this child. Additionally, my labor and delivery were terrible with him. 25 hours of labor with 3 hours of pushing.... I truly didn’t think I could do it.  I also had very high standards that he was going to be entirely breastfed (EFB). And for 3 weeks, he was....and for those three weeks, I was unsuccessful. And frankly, because I was such a failure, I wanted to die. It sounds harsh and extreme, but that is exactly how I felt. But death terrifies me, so I kept moving on. And I was miserable. Nothing brought me joy anymore. There are parts of his very young life that I don’t remember because it was too painful. I felt like I was failing and he didn’t need me since he could be fed with formula. I had hallucinations. I pictured myself driving off a VERY large bridge in my area, and one day I drove over to this bridge. Thank GOD I didn’t do anything because I would have missed out on so much joy and happiness. But at the time, I didn’t think I would ever be happy again. I finally talked to my doctor and she put me on some medications. I also went to a councilor (once... I couldn’t bring myself to talk about...well myself....). After a few months, I started to really get better and move past the sadness.

Fast forwards to pregnancy number 2. I suffered from depression almost my entire pregnancy, In my defense, I couldn’t eat. Like really....for a while there I was only able to drink water, and only if it had a REAL lemon in it, and strawberries 🍓 . Everything else made me throw up. I lost 20 pounds. I was mad about being so sick and I took it out on my unborn child. I didn’t feel like I loved them. And on top of that, we didn’t find out the gender, so I really didn’t feel like I could bond. Of course, I’m so happy now that we didn't’ find out the gender because hearing my husband tell me that we had a girl was one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had in my life. My labor and delivery with Juliet was awesome. 8 hours of labor and 30 minutes of pushing. It was WONDERFUL! And on top of that, I got her to latch and breastfeed right away. Everything seemed to be smooth sailing. I knew that with Juliet, I wasn’t going to go back to work full time so I didn’t feel the pressure of that on my shoulders. Our breastfeeding journey hasn’t been easy though. I’ve gotten mastitis 3 times. Mastitis is terrible. It’s a painful, infected, clogged milk duct. It makes you feel like you’ve got the flu if the flu was in crack. But anyways....She latched well, but she wasn’t getting enough food to make her gain weight. My milk had come in, but she couldn’t empty the breast for some reason and she was so fussy. We thought she had acid reflux, which Jack had so I didn’t question it, but even after we put her on medication for that, nothing changed. I started to look stuff up and came across tongue and lip tie information and symptoms of that. She had every single one. I asked my lactation consultant to check her for it and sure enough, she had both. They were both reversed and we got back on track. She’s still tiny, but MUCH better.....but here I am...and I’m not.

At about 4 months postpartum, I realized that I wasn’t happy. And not like just blue every now and then, but deeply unhappy. I thought about it and I also realized that I had cried every single day that week. I pushed it out of my head thinking that it had just been a hard week and everything was fine. Fast forward to about 2 weeks ago. I was driving my family to a wedding we were attending. Jacob was sleeping because he had worked the night before, Juliet was screaming (she was most likely hungry) and Jack was being Jack...I mean he’s 3 soooo he was being loud and not listening to me. A thought came to me, one that I don’t even want to repeat. But because I want to be fully honest with myself and others, I will “paraphrase” the thought. I thought about how my life would be so much easier with one child. And then I thought about how I would choose which child I’d keep. That’s really as far as I’m will to go with explaining that now, because right after and even right this very second, guilt washed over me. I thought “How can I call myself a mom if I’m having these horrific thoughts?” And at that moment, I wanted to die. Right then and there. I wanted my life to be over. I didn’t deserve these wonderful, amazing, beautiful children that I have been given to raise. I knew I couldn’t end my life right then because I wasn’t going to end my husband or children’s lives, but I knew I didn’t want to live anymore. So...heavy stuff...I may or may not be crying right now....ok so I am crying right now. Anyways, I had to pull myself together to attending this wedding and visit with family. I made it through that day without harming myself or my kids so I knew I could make it thought the rest of the weekend, which we were spending with my mom, dad, sister, and my sister’s girlfriend. 

We got home and I called my doctor that day. And you can ask my husband, I’ll go like 3 weeks of being deathly sick without calling my doctor. I didn’t call her last time I was suffering from PPD, I just talked to her at my 6 weeks follow up appointment....anyways, I digress. Once I got home, I started to think about everything, I was trying to remember the last time I truly felt happy and I couldn’t think of it. I thought about at the outburst and RAGE I had, the constant crying (because it wasn’t just that week before the wedding, it was all the time), the anxiety, the fear. I knew then that it was a lot worse than I had thought. I texted my “ladies” chat, which consists of my mom, grandmother, and sister, to let them know what was going on. I didn’t go into much detail about it because I didn’t want to scare them, but my mom knew. She called me and asked me what was going on. I’m grateful for that. It got me talking. It got me really thinking and it got me set in the right direction to help it. I also talked to my husband. I told him that thought I had about our kids, and you know what...he didn’t leave. He didn’t take out kids and run. No, he laid beside me in our bed and let me cry. He never once made me feel like an unfit mother. I’m also grateful for that. 

I’m trying HARD to find AT LEAST one positive thing to think about every day. It’s not easy when your brain is constantly telling you that you’re horrible and making you feel like total trash. And it's even more difficult on days like today when both kids are sick and you’re sleeping on the couch because your daughter can only sleep in the swing because she can’t lay flat....and let's be honest, I’m not sleeping....also a sign of PPD. But I still want to try and find the good in each day. I know there is some. 

If you’re still reading now, thank you. I know it’s probably boring, but I do appreciate you stopping by. I hope to bring awarenesses to my issue, I hope that I can help someone who is also going through this. I hope to share some resources that I find to help those that need it too. I mean, I contacted the suicide lifeline the other night to get help. I wasn’t suicidal that night, but I knew I needed help and I didn’t know where to go. It was a great resource. 

To end, I’ll leave you with this, actress Bryce Dallas Howard said “It is strange for me to recall what I was like at the time. I seemed to be suffering from emotional amnesia. I couldn’t genuinely cry or laugh, or be moved by anything. For the sake of those around me, including my son, I began showering again. In the second week, I let loose in the privacy of my bathroom, water flowing over me as I heaved uncontrollable sobs.” This is 100% how I feel. For me, it didn’t hit until a few weeks ago, but I can relate to this on a different level. Life for me is difficult right now. It's hard to get out of bed, but I’m hoping that if I’m open about it and I seek out the help I need, I’ll be able to live my life “normal” again. Also, please know that if you reach out to me and I don’t reply or I just say thank you, I’m not trying to be rude. I’m trying to heal. And one day I might text you to talk and that’s when I’m going to need you the most. I’ve come to realize that it’s ok to need help.

[runninveggie-blog]

How can anyone feel constant sadness, anxiety, and rage when you have such cute kids!

I’ll go over that in this blog