One of my greatest resources & comforts over the past few months has been Katherine from Postpartum Progress. She has been wonderful support, full of grace, & I’m thankful to soon contribute to a project to raise awareness. That being said, today she posted this on her site:
Shelley Burdine-Prevost, a researcher in Tennessee with a clinical specialty in PPD, has asked me to invite my readers to participate in a survey on postpartum adjustment and variables related to a positive transition to motherhood. She wants to learn what helps some women make this adjustment better than others. In order to participate, your baby must have been born in the last 12 months.
I took the quiz.
I cried the entire time.
1. I had trouble sleeping even when my baby was asleep.
ABSOLUTELY. I could not nap when he napped. I figured that was normal, especially of Type-A’s that never shut up. What caught me by surprise was the slow build to not being able to go to sleep at night. & stay asleep.
2. I got anxious over even the littlest things that concerned my baby.
Not at all. In the beginning, I was the calmest mother you had ever seen. Until the screaming began & I became mildly hysterical for a few weeks. & then…I dulled. Until I didn’t care. I was numb. If he screamed, I just stared at him. Because I had no idea what to do & I knew nothing I could try would work.
3. I felt like my emotions were on a roller coaster.
Strongly agree. I still do. It’s how one day, I can be oozing over an iPod Cozy, offer it up for a giveaway, while simultaneously balancing clients, makign dinner, & learning to sew all in one day. That’s the “old” Blair. Then sometimes, “PPD Blair” rears her ugly head & I’m sobbing under the covers, begging to be admitted, knowing I don’t even have the will to exist. It’s probably why some people who read my blog think I’m a “train wreck” that is never consistant. THAT’S WHAT MY LIFE FEELS LIKE.
4. I felt like I was losing my mind.
So many times I put my hands on my head & squeezed. Right on my temples. Trying to make my thoughts stop. Trying to make my brain stop. I thought I was going insane – manic in emotions, actions, moods. Snapping at my husband, screaming at the dog, losing my shit on the mailman. I would walk into work silently chanting, “Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream” & everytime someone said “Good morning!” to me, it was all I could do to not run screaming. Some days still feel like that. I WAS GOING CRAZY.
5. I was afraid I would never be my normal self again.
Well, duh. Every new mother feels that. I was afraid my vagina would never heal, I’d never see my weight under 200, & I would smell like vomit the rest of my life. “What’s that intoxicating scent you are wearing?” Nate will ask me over dinner at the retirement community. “Oh, baby puke!” I will answer with a wave of my brittle hand.
Those worries past. The physical Blair came back. The mental Blair LEFT THE FUCKING BUILDING. (Sorry, Momma) & I am still terrified that I will never feel stable again. I am afraid I will be on anti-depressants the rest of my life. I’m afraid. & so I go with a veangence, trying to “re-claim” Blair & create a new, better version that can sew & read the Bible & do all these amazing things on the outside, even if mental Blair has LEFT THE FUCKING BUILDING for all eternity.
6. I felt like I was not the mother I wanted to be.
This is where I started sobbing. I couldn’t breathe. No. I am not the mother I want to be, even though now Harrison is the baby every dreams of having. I do not deserve him. STOP. STOP, Blair. STOP.
7. I have thought that death seemed like the only way out of this living nightmare.
Not suicide. Just simply not existing. Some moments, I want to stop existing. Those moments when PPD Blair is in full force, I want to be Sleeping Beauty. Not exist during the battle, the darkness. & wake up myself again in a few months.
8. I lost my appetite.
I’ve lost over 33lbs. I think that speaks for itself.
9. I felt really overwhelmed.
Yes. & no. Some days, my emotions of being overwhelmed paralize me & I can barely find my way to my desk at work. Other days, I am a MACHINE. Kicking tails, taking names, completing everything on my to-do list & then pinning on my SuperMom cape with 5 minutes to spare. I refer you back to #3 and #4.
10. I was scared I would never be happy again.
Terrified.
11. I could not concentrate on anything.
Or, I was concentrating on EVERYTHING until I was on scensory overload. Again, polar opposites.
12. I felt as though I had become a stranger to myself.
Y’all know how you miss the “old Blair?” I do, too. I miss her. I miss her sarcasm & finding joy & hilarity in the tiniest details of life. I miss her wit & spark & ability to feel EVERYTHING, when some days, I sit completely numb. Unmotivated. Angry. Jealous. Everything I have never been. Who is this new person?? & if she’s here forever, do I learn to live with her or do I hate myself the rest of my life? Again, I am afraid.
13. I felt like so many mothers were better than me.
They stay home. They go to work. They handle sick babies. They don’t feel numb to their child’s cries. They don’t crawl into the shower 3 times per day. They feed their child at night. They eat & keep house & make dinner. They go through EVERYTHING on the surface that I’ve gone through, but made it out still intact. & I didn’t. & I don’t know why.
14. I started thinking that I would be better off dead.
No. My “passive death wish” was not about me, as I’ve described in earlier posts. I wish I wanted myself dead sometimes.
15. I woke up in the middle of the night & had trouble getting back to sleep.
Blair, meet sleep aides. You’ll be enjoying each other for at least six months to stop ritualistic 3am bedchecks & curb exhaustion. Please send your psychiatrist a plate of cookies at Christmas in thanks.
16. I felt like I was jumping out of my skin.
Exploding was more like it. Manic energy. MANIC. It’s how last weekend, I planted a garden, learned to sew, painted a room in my house, took care of a baby, cleaned my house, & managed a blog. In 48 hours. It’s why my knee never stops shaking, especially in stressful situations. This is an aspect of Postpartum Anxiety. We’re trying to simmer me down. In fact, my assignment this week is to get a massage. Nice, right? A doctor-ordered massage? I WOULD RATHER GET MY TEETH PULLED. The idea of being still & quiet & alone with my thoughts for an hour terrifies me. If you see a tall girl running screaming from a massage parlor with crazy eyes & a skimpy towel, please pick me up & take me to my doctor. Or mother. kthanx.
17. I cried a lot for no reason.
No. Not at all. I never cried. Which is why The Momma was so shocked when I told her, very calmly one morning at the kitchen table, that I had PPD. I told her so calmly, so monotone. I might as well have told her we were having chicken for dinner. There had been no crying fits, no sobs of “I can’t do this!”
a few redundant questions…
21. I wanted to hurt myself.
Yes. One day, I will tell you about this. If you are going through this now & need someone to just listen, email me.
more redundancy…
23. I felt all alone.
& I focused on it. Obsessively. How I was the ONLY one of my friends that went back to work full time, with no adjusted “mommy hours.” How I was the only one not at play group. I was the only one at lunch without my baby. I was the only one with PPD. That’s why this blog is medicine – it reminds me that I’m NOT ALONE.
24. I have been very irritable.
Explosive quivering underneath the facade of calm. Sometimes it shows, on here & in real life.
25. I had a difficult time even making a simple decision.
A simple question of “What do you want for lunch?” had the potential of sending me into a downard spiral, so guilty that I was so frozen I didn’t even have the will to decide. On the other hand, some days I was so impulsive that I could not reign myself in. It’s why our dining room is now blue & why I was putting together a bookshelf at 11pm on a Tuesday night.
26. I felt like I was not normal.
The whole idea that I’m not going through anything different or special…but I just can’t cope. As my doctor says – common? yes. normal? no.
27. I felt like I had to had what I was thinking or feeling towards the baby.
Yes. & even now. If I have a good day where I’m sunshine & rainbows towards him, I’m “fake.” If I have a bad day, I’m a baby-hater that uses my child for attention. Throw in the constant fear that people will automatically label me as a baby-killer & BAM! you’ve got me clamming up, putting on a smile, & throwing a birthday party complete with homemade cheddar dill scones. There has been no way to defend myself, describe, or make you understand how manic my days & moods can feel.
28. I knew I should eat, but could not.
Blair, meet Carnation Instant Breakfast.
29. I felt like my baby would be better off without me.
I googled adoption agencies & that was my final low-blow before calling the OB. So I think we can easily say “yes” on this one.
blah blah blah
32. I felt like I was not real.
Numb. Plastic. Crazy. I still feel this way.
Now…do you get it? Do you understand it a little more – the manic attitude? It’s classic symptoms. How one day, I’m farting rainbows & the next day, I want to throw my life & everything out the window.
It confuses me, too.
You’ve seen me on video being silly. Laughing, making faces, giggling with Harrison & Nate. Those are good moments.
But there are bad ones, too. They’re just not as fun to watch. When I don’t know what to do, where to go, & there’s nowhere I can go. So I talk. & nobody’s there to listen. & looking back, I don’t even know why I recorded it, except maybe as a scream for help in the moment.
But I know that at the end of the day, if ONE person emails me to say “me, too” then it was worth it. One girl emailing me to say, “thank you for giving me hope” makes the gutteral blogging of losing Harpie so worth it. One mother emailing me to say she finally called her OB about depression made my confessions easier to swallow for myself. CONNECTIONS.
