Shame

A little over 3 months ago I gave birth to the most amazing little girl in the world. And I fell in love despite our initial rocky start and difficult labor. When we got home from the hospital, it was bliss. I was sooo happy to have her all to ourselves. Mommy, daddy and baby the perfect little family unit! Things were great, we didn't sleep much and I had some issues with breastfeeding but other than that things were truly wonderful.

Flash forward one week and my husband is back to work and I'm alone in the house with a fussy crying baby and I'm crying right along with her. At first we thought it was just the "baby blues" that this would pass and I would get out of this funk. But as days went on I felt more overwhelmed and much less happy than I had ever anticipated my first month home with baby would be.

Then came the excuses, the explanations: I'm just sleep deprived, I am not eating enough, maybe I just plain suck at being a mother! That last one is the one that I clung onto. And when my husband got home from work everyday he would hear about it. About how things just weren't clicking and how hard everyday was. How tired I was and how I didn't want to do anything. How I wanted to go back to work at a minimum wage job because I clearly was not cut out for this whole mommy thing. And he started to get it.

My husband stepped up the help and the support. He told me I was a good mother while I stood crying holding my baby several nights a week, he held the baby while I slammed doors and threw fits. Maybe I wasn't getting out enough. So when he could actually convince me to see other people I saw friends or left the house and I felt okay for a little while, sometimes, but then the feeling just kept coming back. And soon I started lashing out at Nick and that's when we knew it wasn't just a "funk" something was really wrong. But I kept denying it. Because I didn't want it to be true, because I was ashamed of how I felt. Because I felt guilty for not being able to shake this awful feeling in spite of being absolutely blessed with Arya. I was so grateful for her but I spent a lot of my time thinking, "why did I have this baby?" and thinking about how selfish I was for bringing her into this world when clearly I wasn't doing anything but screwing her up!

Then I started to think that her world might be a better place if I wasn't in it... And then I got it.

I had full blown postpartum depression (PPD) and I couldn't have felt any more ashamed of myself. I felt like it was my fault, I felt embarrassed and I still do. This is not a "I was so sad but look at how I overcame it blah blah blah" story. This is what is happening to me right now and I'm struggling with it every single day. After finally admitting to myself that I was depressed a few weeks ago I made some changes. I am now in therapy every other week and I joined a new gym which I am trying to frequent often. I have also started taking Zoloft. Because no I can not will myself back to normal. I had tried that technique for months and it just does not work.

And up until today I haven't told more than a handful of people. There's a huge stigma surrounding PPD and I hate it. Even the anonymous world of the internet keeps it a dirty little secret. All of the forum posts and blog posts I found were "I had PPD and it was really horrible but now I'm better so it's okay to talk about it."

I am currently studying to be a professional therapist (although due to my PPD I am taking medical leave for the semester). And what I would tell a patient is that they should not feel shame, they should not hide. They need to reach out! So I am taking my own advice despite the huge amount of shame and guilt and all kinds of awful things I'm feeling and I'm reaching out. I need support and love now more than ever.

One of the many reasons I haven't wanted anyone to know is that I feel like my peers and my family will think this makes me an unfit mother. It doesn't. Right now while my mind is clear I can say in all honesty that I know what my daughter needs more than anyone else and that I am the best caregiver for her at the moment. Is that to say that I don't need help? Hell no! I do need help- but more than help I need support. And I know every other mom out there needs support especially other moms with PPD (which is about 20% of the new mommy population.) And keeping this a deep dark secret isn't helping anyone!

This is me reaching out. This is me asking for support for myself and my family and offering it other moms in return. This is me trying to banish the stigma attached to psychological disorders. If anyone is reading this who has PPD please tell your story! Please reach out! Do not feel shame! You didn't ask for this illness and I know you feel like you should be able to handle it on your own but you probably can't. And that's okay.

I'm taking it one day at a time. I have a lot of bad days but I also have a lot of good ones. And I know that eventually with support, therapy, medication and a healthy lifestyle the good will soon outweigh the bad.