I've talked about Postpartum Depression a few times, touched on it here and there... but lately it's come up in so many conversations and I feel like I can't put off this post any longer... It's painful for me to talk about it generically, its even more painful for me to share my personal experience... but I am finally realizing that sharing is how we help each other grow, it's a great support and a great way to reach someone who would otherwise be unreachable so here I go.
Rue wasn't a planned baby. She was a total and complete surprise. She was the definition of the word surprise. About a year before she was born I was wanting another baby so so badly. Even though we'd always said Gemma would be our last I was having a hard time coming to terms with all of the last baby thoughts... I got over it quickly though. I realized how illogical, financially irresponsible, etc... it would be to have another baby. I was satisfied and content with our family of 5.
Meer weeks later I "passed" the only test I've ever wanted to fail... two pink lines... The Rue spot in my heart burst into existence and I was terrified to tell Brandon. After all of the conversations we'd had about how we shouldn't have another... here we were... having another.
The morning sickness came, the swelling, the acne, the growing tummy... and with it came that familiar stirring excitement that pregnancy brings. As she grew we prepared. I resolved to document this pregnancy better and I did! (you can find that in my archives!) I easily worked around the 4 kids in a tiny house issue... Crazy! I budgeted... had a baby shower and went into labor at 35 weeks!
My sweet Doctor was able to stop the labor... and we went home. A day later labor came again, contractions 5 minutes apart.... 4 minutes apart... 3 minutes apart for hours... I'd sleep in between and while I slept they'd stop... Rue and I did this for a month! We made it to July 6! We walked into the hospital and within the hour I was holding my girl. It was a breeze, surgery was quick, simple, painless... Rue nursed like a champ within 20 minutes of birth... I was recovering great. We got a 4 day hospital vacation to cuddle our newborn... In my mind I had this one down in the books as a success.
What I wasn't willing to acknowledge was the underlying sadness, the depressive spirit in the room with me and my newborn. The not quite right twinge in my stomach when I looked at her. I could barely see it behind my fierce determination to make breastfeeding work, but there it was. Don't get me wrong.. I saw her and that Rue place in my heart ached and grew... I had that moment of instant affection and responsibility. That just wasn't all I felt...
We brought her home, we adored her, held her at every turn. I nursed on demand... she thrived. Months passed and the not quite right feeling stayed... I said nothing, brushed it off as the stress of a newborn...
At 6 months Rue was still waking sometimes 3-4 times a night to nurse... I was exhausted and desperate for her to take a bottle so Brandon could feed her and let me sleep. I decided to start weaning... I'd read tons of articles and books about adverse reactions to the oxytocin release that occurs during nursing and thought maybe that was an issue I was having. I had all the symptoms. Anxiety, Depression, Listlessness, Lethargy, Hopelessness, Decreased Appetite, Insomnia, Headaches... I felt like I was on a rollercoaster I couldn't get off of. Whatever was happening in my life, I was not in control of it. I was nothing like the Miranda from a year ago... but in the problem solving section of my brain there was a huge question mark, so I trudged on.
I started weaning Rue and then she got RSV. In between the breathing treatments every two hours I didn't have the heart to offer a bottle when she so desperately wanted the comfort of nursing so I put it off... All of my symptoms escalated from an uncomfortable, troublesome level to a dangerous level. For the first time in my life I was scared of what was happening in my brain. I couldn't sleep, when I closed my eyes anxiety washed over me. My family tip toed around me... People pulled away because they didn't know what to do with me, I felt more alone than I've ever felt before. Looking back, I know now that that's where PPD thrives and that's where it grows. In the darkest, loneliest moments.
Rue's breathing treatments lessened over time, her cough went away. She was well again, so we started trying to wean. The first few days were a nightmare we both cried constantly. The guilt that I felt during those days is something I don't think I'll ever forget. But I was desperate to get just a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel. So we pressed on and within a month she was fully weaned. It happened gradually... so gradually that I don't remember the last time she nursed and thats another thing that makes me so incredibly sad because she REALLY IS my last baby!
My PPD symptoms started lessening, I was nowhere close to healthy but I began to feel more stable. She's almost one now... I can't tell you the exact date it all ended and I can't say that weaning Rue was the fix but somehow I made it through.
I want to add that I never mentioned any of this to my doctor, I never told her I knew I had it... I knew she'd want to medicate and I wasn't comfortable with that. I don't regret the choice but I wish I had told her at least...
I continue to be shocked at the general reaction to PPD. By relatives, husbands, strangers... I'm appalled by the ease with which people criticize women who are struggling with it... It is a time when a woman needs care, concern and unconditional love more than ever but more often than not she will be met with indifference, disdain, judgement for the type of mother she is... If you've managed to read this far please, I beg you... if there is a new mom in your life educate yourself... Even if she is the glue in your family, even if she is the one that does the educating... put in the effort to learn and to be prepared for what she may go through and may already be experiencing... I didn't have the heart to tell anyone and when I did, I did it with a smile. I was totally and completely unable to communicate the seriousness of the issue.
The last thing I want to add is this... the only comfort through all of this was prayer. My only comfort was authentic desperation at the feet of the only one who could really save me. I'm here now sharing this with you because of His grace... because of His mercy and because He laid a purpose on my life and a calling on my heart and you are part of it.
If this is you now, I implore you... run, don't walk to your bible. Lay your fears down at his feet and rest a moment... the baby will cry, the struggles will come, the depression will stir and when it does He'll be there with you.
You already have the victory... all that's left is the battle and you're strong Momma...
XOXO
Miranda
Rue wasn't a planned baby. She was a total and complete surprise. She was the definition of the word surprise. About a year before she was born I was wanting another baby so so badly. Even though we'd always said Gemma would be our last I was having a hard time coming to terms with all of the last baby thoughts... I got over it quickly though. I realized how illogical, financially irresponsible, etc... it would be to have another baby. I was satisfied and content with our family of 5.
Meer weeks later I "passed" the only test I've ever wanted to fail... two pink lines... The Rue spot in my heart burst into existence and I was terrified to tell Brandon. After all of the conversations we'd had about how we shouldn't have another... here we were... having another.
The morning sickness came, the swelling, the acne, the growing tummy... and with it came that familiar stirring excitement that pregnancy brings. As she grew we prepared. I resolved to document this pregnancy better and I did! (you can find that in my archives!) I easily worked around the 4 kids in a tiny house issue... Crazy! I budgeted... had a baby shower and went into labor at 35 weeks!
My sweet Doctor was able to stop the labor... and we went home. A day later labor came again, contractions 5 minutes apart.... 4 minutes apart... 3 minutes apart for hours... I'd sleep in between and while I slept they'd stop... Rue and I did this for a month! We made it to July 6! We walked into the hospital and within the hour I was holding my girl. It was a breeze, surgery was quick, simple, painless... Rue nursed like a champ within 20 minutes of birth... I was recovering great. We got a 4 day hospital vacation to cuddle our newborn... In my mind I had this one down in the books as a success.
What I wasn't willing to acknowledge was the underlying sadness, the depressive spirit in the room with me and my newborn. The not quite right twinge in my stomach when I looked at her. I could barely see it behind my fierce determination to make breastfeeding work, but there it was. Don't get me wrong.. I saw her and that Rue place in my heart ached and grew... I had that moment of instant affection and responsibility. That just wasn't all I felt...
We brought her home, we adored her, held her at every turn. I nursed on demand... she thrived. Months passed and the not quite right feeling stayed... I said nothing, brushed it off as the stress of a newborn...
At 6 months Rue was still waking sometimes 3-4 times a night to nurse... I was exhausted and desperate for her to take a bottle so Brandon could feed her and let me sleep. I decided to start weaning... I'd read tons of articles and books about adverse reactions to the oxytocin release that occurs during nursing and thought maybe that was an issue I was having. I had all the symptoms. Anxiety, Depression, Listlessness, Lethargy, Hopelessness, Decreased Appetite, Insomnia, Headaches... I felt like I was on a rollercoaster I couldn't get off of. Whatever was happening in my life, I was not in control of it. I was nothing like the Miranda from a year ago... but in the problem solving section of my brain there was a huge question mark, so I trudged on.
I started weaning Rue and then she got RSV. In between the breathing treatments every two hours I didn't have the heart to offer a bottle when she so desperately wanted the comfort of nursing so I put it off... All of my symptoms escalated from an uncomfortable, troublesome level to a dangerous level. For the first time in my life I was scared of what was happening in my brain. I couldn't sleep, when I closed my eyes anxiety washed over me. My family tip toed around me... People pulled away because they didn't know what to do with me, I felt more alone than I've ever felt before. Looking back, I know now that that's where PPD thrives and that's where it grows. In the darkest, loneliest moments.
Rue's breathing treatments lessened over time, her cough went away. She was well again, so we started trying to wean. The first few days were a nightmare we both cried constantly. The guilt that I felt during those days is something I don't think I'll ever forget. But I was desperate to get just a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel. So we pressed on and within a month she was fully weaned. It happened gradually... so gradually that I don't remember the last time she nursed and thats another thing that makes me so incredibly sad because she REALLY IS my last baby!
My PPD symptoms started lessening, I was nowhere close to healthy but I began to feel more stable. She's almost one now... I can't tell you the exact date it all ended and I can't say that weaning Rue was the fix but somehow I made it through.
I want to add that I never mentioned any of this to my doctor, I never told her I knew I had it... I knew she'd want to medicate and I wasn't comfortable with that. I don't regret the choice but I wish I had told her at least...
I continue to be shocked at the general reaction to PPD. By relatives, husbands, strangers... I'm appalled by the ease with which people criticize women who are struggling with it... It is a time when a woman needs care, concern and unconditional love more than ever but more often than not she will be met with indifference, disdain, judgement for the type of mother she is... If you've managed to read this far please, I beg you... if there is a new mom in your life educate yourself... Even if she is the glue in your family, even if she is the one that does the educating... put in the effort to learn and to be prepared for what she may go through and may already be experiencing... I didn't have the heart to tell anyone and when I did, I did it with a smile. I was totally and completely unable to communicate the seriousness of the issue.
The last thing I want to add is this... the only comfort through all of this was prayer. My only comfort was authentic desperation at the feet of the only one who could really save me. I'm here now sharing this with you because of His grace... because of His mercy and because He laid a purpose on my life and a calling on my heart and you are part of it.
If this is you now, I implore you... run, don't walk to your bible. Lay your fears down at his feet and rest a moment... the baby will cry, the struggles will come, the depression will stir and when it does He'll be there with you.
You already have the victory... all that's left is the battle and you're strong Momma...
XOXO
Miranda
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