It started after I gave birth to my son Allen, my second child. That was right after we moved to California. As a mother I became so much more aggressive, easily bothered, had horrible mood swings, etc. I felt like I had completely lost control of who I was. I remember having panic attacks - episodes where I stopped breathing, and even mild seizures because I carried so much tension.
I tried so hard to hide this from everyone - except my husband of course, and God love him, he didn't know what to do with me. I felt so guilty and hated myself for being this way, I can't tell you the number of times I was tempted to commit suicide because I felt so completely worthless.
I became pregnant with Susan soon after having Allen and this was horribly hard
for me. Looking back I see that I walked straight into pregnancy still
suffering from postpartum depression. The good thing about being pregnant was
that I knew I could never hurt the baby I was carrying, so I fought hard
against temptations to not take care of myself.
It was a few months after Susan was born that the severe symptoms of the depression came back, and this time much worse. In addition to the depressed feelings, panic attacks, etc., I had to fight grotesque images that would simply remain in my head (thoughts of me hurting myself for example.) The main feeling that I had was that I wasn't even worth the air I breathe. I think Sam and I woke up to how serious this was when, tragically, one of Sam's colleagues lost his daughter to suicide only four months after she gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby. I was then actually diagnosed with postpartum depression, and I can't tell you the relief it gave me to know that I wasn't going crazy; I could just read the bullet points of my symptoms on a brochure in the doctor's office and realize that I wasn't the only one going through this.
My story has a good ending because once I realized that I was fighting a disease, or more precisely a chemical imbalance of my hormones, I could react with concrete tools to help me get through it one day at a time. The tools were simply: reminding myself that the depression was not who I was, rather that I am precious in the sight of God, praying with my husband, fighting the guilt, quiet time, and lots and lots of vigorous exercise. That really helped me and still does.
By the time I had Elisabeth—my third child, I knew what I would be going through. I asked people for lots of prayers and braced myself for another onset of serious depression a few months after she was born. I still have hard days every so often, but I know how to respond to it now. I've even realized that along with the heightened stress and tension levels, my emotional side increases making me really good at art and music, etc.; for example, I just finished a beautiful drawing of my baby - I can’t help but find this extremely funny. I guess the takeaway is that you can find good in every bad situation.
I am grateful for the chance to share my story to help other women who may suffer from the same thing.
Please keep me in your prayers, I'm doing ok now, but who knows how many times I'll be asked to go through this. :)
By A Catholic Like You
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