On Post-partum Depression
Hey there. I know it's been awhile. It was Homeschooling Year 1 and things didn't exactly go as I had expected them to. But that's a whole other post! For several months my mind keeps going back to the subject of post-partum depression. I'm not a medical professional. I'm just giving you my testimony and I pray that it helps someone to see that God is ever merciful. I started writing this bit almost 2 years ago. Yeah. I am leaving it untouched because I love that I have a glimpse of who I was then. My life was about to change in a huge way...
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The newest addition to our family is truly a bundle of joy. I find myself gazing at her bronze hair, her chubby bulldog cheeks, her little button nose, her golden eyelashes, her tiny monkey toes. I'm trying to savor every bit of her, for I know that this newborn stage is fleeting. She is my seventh newborn. I know that my memory is not so great. I have learned that this postpartum time is difficult. I have to commit these small wonderful moments to memory on puprpose. I am thankful for the camera on my phone to help me capture these glimpses in time.
She has been living outside my womb for two months now. She is a wonderful baby! She truly has brought joy into our lives. And for this reason, I try my hardest, I refuse to blame how I feel on her. Like I said, I've been through this postpartum stage many times. I guess you could say "this ain't my first rodeo." I can say she is wonderful, but I don't really remember much from the other babies. I know that this is much easier than having a NICU baby or an MCADD baby. I have no doubts about that! Sadly, I cant remember much from my other babies as newborns, and I think I can blame that on postpartum depression.
I have a tendency to be an anxious person, easily discouraged, easily depressed. I can tell you that the emotions I had shortly after giving birth to my latest little one were raw and still vivid.
This was my sixth cesarean section. At 38 weeks and 4 days, this was the furthest along I've been since our first child, almost 13 years ago. And it happened 6 days earlier than scheduled. At that point, I was a nervous wreck. A total mess. I was paralyzed with fear that any sudden move would trigger more contractions and that would tear my uterus. I had prayed my whole pregnancy through that my uterus would stay strong and would not put me and the baby in danger.
The surgery and birth went better than I expected. Instead of the hysterectomy that I feared was imminent, I came away with only a tear in my bladder. Our baby was beautifully perfect. The pain meds were super. I was very relieved that I still had my uterus and didn't have any crazy bleeding. Flash forward to two days later. My doctor gives a little more information about what was going on with my bladder. I was going home with a catheter. I would have this thing for two weeks total. I've had catheters before, and this shouldn't have shaken me so. But Jennifer's ears heard this as devastating news, a death sentence if you will.
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So I'll spare you the gory details of the two weeks that followed. I basically had a really hard time wearing a catheter, didn't want to leave the house, I truly felt this was the end. Silly hormones. I eventually felt more normal physically. Mentally...I didn't know what was happening. She was born in July and by the end of September my husband had started his new job in the next state north. I was caring for a newborn, five other kiddos, in the month of October all but two of us caught a stomach virus and a bad cold, and I had to do some major packing and cleaning up of the home we were renting.
I had basically come to my lowest point. I had thoughts going through my mind that scared the crap out of me. I scared the crap out of my husband as I told him what I felt was the best thing for all of us...I apologize, but I've got to be honest...I felt like the best thing for our situation was that I needed to take myself out of the equation, and all our stuff that needed to be packed with me. My mind was so confused, so poisoned. I was being preyed upon in my vulnerable state. But God heard me. He heard me literally screaming out for help. He sent people to be my rock, to tell me I'm not alone.
I don't usually give out advice, but this is important: Don't isolate yourself. I'm not only talking to women with a baby, not just talking to mothers, not just talking to women! I'm talking to you. In your loneliness, in your abandonment, please take that one step. Confide in someone. Ask the Holy Spirit to bring someone to you. Ask your guardian angel for protection.
I can honestly say that at my lowest, I couldn't even confirm that God was listening or that I even wanted to acknowledge that God was there. It was another human (well, humans). I will never forget the kindness shown to me by my friend who was able to come be with me. She had no expectations of me. She didn't need an explanation. She was exactly who God knew I needed. And then the love, care, and kindness kept coming. I could feel myself being washed in God's abundant mercy every time someone delivered a meal, picked up my kids from school, just came to visit, sent a kind text, and they even came to pack boxes. In about two weeks it was time to leave. In two weeks time my heart was broken and mended, broken and mended, again and again. But I rested in the Lord. I knew this was what we were supposed to be doing. I wasn't cured of this depression. I might not ever be. I do know that my faith and trust in God has saved me.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The newest addition to our family is truly a bundle of joy. I find myself gazing at her bronze hair, her chubby bulldog cheeks, her little button nose, her golden eyelashes, her tiny monkey toes. I'm trying to savor every bit of her, for I know that this newborn stage is fleeting. She is my seventh newborn. I know that my memory is not so great. I have learned that this postpartum time is difficult. I have to commit these small wonderful moments to memory on puprpose. I am thankful for the camera on my phone to help me capture these glimpses in time.
She has been living outside my womb for two months now. She is a wonderful baby! She truly has brought joy into our lives. And for this reason, I try my hardest, I refuse to blame how I feel on her. Like I said, I've been through this postpartum stage many times. I guess you could say "this ain't my first rodeo." I can say she is wonderful, but I don't really remember much from the other babies. I know that this is much easier than having a NICU baby or an MCADD baby. I have no doubts about that! Sadly, I cant remember much from my other babies as newborns, and I think I can blame that on postpartum depression.
I have a tendency to be an anxious person, easily discouraged, easily depressed. I can tell you that the emotions I had shortly after giving birth to my latest little one were raw and still vivid.
This was my sixth cesarean section. At 38 weeks and 4 days, this was the furthest along I've been since our first child, almost 13 years ago. And it happened 6 days earlier than scheduled. At that point, I was a nervous wreck. A total mess. I was paralyzed with fear that any sudden move would trigger more contractions and that would tear my uterus. I had prayed my whole pregnancy through that my uterus would stay strong and would not put me and the baby in danger.
The surgery and birth went better than I expected. Instead of the hysterectomy that I feared was imminent, I came away with only a tear in my bladder. Our baby was beautifully perfect. The pain meds were super. I was very relieved that I still had my uterus and didn't have any crazy bleeding. Flash forward to two days later. My doctor gives a little more information about what was going on with my bladder. I was going home with a catheter. I would have this thing for two weeks total. I've had catheters before, and this shouldn't have shaken me so. But Jennifer's ears heard this as devastating news, a death sentence if you will.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
So I'll spare you the gory details of the two weeks that followed. I basically had a really hard time wearing a catheter, didn't want to leave the house, I truly felt this was the end. Silly hormones. I eventually felt more normal physically. Mentally...I didn't know what was happening. She was born in July and by the end of September my husband had started his new job in the next state north. I was caring for a newborn, five other kiddos, in the month of October all but two of us caught a stomach virus and a bad cold, and I had to do some major packing and cleaning up of the home we were renting.
I had basically come to my lowest point. I had thoughts going through my mind that scared the crap out of me. I scared the crap out of my husband as I told him what I felt was the best thing for all of us...I apologize, but I've got to be honest...I felt like the best thing for our situation was that I needed to take myself out of the equation, and all our stuff that needed to be packed with me. My mind was so confused, so poisoned. I was being preyed upon in my vulnerable state. But God heard me. He heard me literally screaming out for help. He sent people to be my rock, to tell me I'm not alone.
I don't usually give out advice, but this is important: Don't isolate yourself. I'm not only talking to women with a baby, not just talking to mothers, not just talking to women! I'm talking to you. In your loneliness, in your abandonment, please take that one step. Confide in someone. Ask the Holy Spirit to bring someone to you. Ask your guardian angel for protection.
I can honestly say that at my lowest, I couldn't even confirm that God was listening or that I even wanted to acknowledge that God was there. It was another human (well, humans). I will never forget the kindness shown to me by my friend who was able to come be with me. She had no expectations of me. She didn't need an explanation. She was exactly who God knew I needed. And then the love, care, and kindness kept coming. I could feel myself being washed in God's abundant mercy every time someone delivered a meal, picked up my kids from school, just came to visit, sent a kind text, and they even came to pack boxes. In about two weeks it was time to leave. In two weeks time my heart was broken and mended, broken and mended, again and again. But I rested in the Lord. I knew this was what we were supposed to be doing. I wasn't cured of this depression. I might not ever be. I do know that my faith and trust in God has saved me.
There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years.She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse.She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.”Immediately her flow of blood dried up. She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction. Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?” But his disciples said to him, “You see how the crowd is pressing upon you, and yet you ask, ‘Who touched me?’” And he looked around to see who had done it. The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth.He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.” Mark 5:25-34
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