No, It's Not Normal

photo via flickr: copyright Jim Mead

Wow. A year. It's interesting how life and time speed by us.  My year has certainly been eventful.  My family of three is now four, my brother's five are now six, our kids have an amazing new Gramps, and Nana is fantastic as always.  It's been unexpected and surreal, but it's been such a wonderful journey.

While watching my children grow and thrive has been the greatest experience of my life, parts of this journey were marred.  There were dark times. Struggle times. Times when I wasn't sure I could do it. Both times were tied to two of the most significant events in my life.

The birth of each of my children.

I get it; hormone changes can lead to the "baby blues." The state of being overwhelmed and wondering who got your blissful feelings of love for this new being.   I'm not in any way minimalizing these feelings.  If you have them or know a mom who is, get help or reach out to help.  New moms need all the support they can get, be it baby number one or baby number ten.

For this post, I'm referring to Postpartum Depression.  One of two mental health conditions that followed the birth of my children. PPD came with my son.   I'll explore the second in another post.

From Postpartum Progress, here are PPD symptoms:

Okay.  Here we go. You may have postpartum depression if you have had a baby within the last 12 months and are experiencing some of these symptoms:

• You feel overwhelmed.  Not like “hey, this new mom thing is hard.”  More like “I can’t do this and I’m never going to be able to do this.”  You feel like you just can’t handle being a mother.  In fact, you may be wondering whether you should have become a mother in the first place.
• You feel guilty because you believe you should be handling new motherhood better than this.  You feel like your baby deserves better.  You worry whether your baby can tell that you feel so bad, or that you are crying so much, or that you don’t feel the happiness or connection that you thought you would.  You may wonder whether your baby would be better off without you.
• You don’t feel bonded to your baby.  You’re not having that mythical mommy bliss that you see on TV or read about in magazines. Not everyone with PPD feels this way, but many do.
• You can’t understand why this is happening.  You are very confused and scared.
• You feel irritated or angry. You have no patience. Everything annoys you.  You feel resentment toward your baby, or your partner, or your friends who don’t have babies. You feel out-of-control rage.
• You feel nothing. Emptiness and numbness. You are just going through the motions.
• You feel sadness to the depths of your soul. You can’t stop crying, even when there’s no real reason to be crying.
• You feel hopeless, like this situation will never ever get better. You feel weak and defective, like a failure.
• You can’t bring yourself to eat, or perhaps the only thing that makes you feel better is eating.
• You can’t sleep when the baby sleeps, nor can you sleep at any other time. Or maybe you can fall asleep, but you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep no matter how tired you are.  Or maybe all you can do is sleep and you can’t seem to stay awake to get the most basic things done.  Whichever it is, your sleeping is completely screwed up and it’s not just because you have a newborn.
• You can’t concentrate. You can’t focus. You can’t think of the words you want to say. You can’t remember what you were supposed to do. You can’t make a decision. You feel like you’re in a fog.
• You feel disconnected. You feel strangely apart from everyone for some reason, like there’s an invisible wall between you and the rest of the world.
• Maybe you’re doing everything right. You are exercising. You are taking your vitamins. You have a healthy spirituality.  You do yoga. You’re thinking “Why can’t I just get over this?”  You feel like you should be able to snap out of it, but you can’t.
• You might be having thoughts of running away and leaving your family behind. Or you’ve thought of driving off the road, or taking too many pills, or finding some other way to end this misery.
• You know something is wrong. You may not know you have a perinatal mood or anxiety disorder, but you know the way you are feeling is NOT right. You think you’ve “gone crazy”.
• You are afraid that this is your new reality and that you’ve lost the “old you” forever.
• You are afraid that if you reach out for help people will judge you. Or that your baby will be taken away.

That last one is critical.  I didn't ask for help. I thought it was normal to feel the way I did. I bought into the lie that everyone goes through this.

No, they don't. And no, it's NOT normal.

I went through the motions. I took care of my son. He was fed, kept clean and dry, and was healthy. And while I loved the child I had struggled to have, I didn't like him very much.  I just didn't understand why.

I joke that my husband must have thought he brought someone else home from the hospital.  The reality is he did.  I didn't ask for help, and I should have.

I'm forever changed by the PPD.  I'm now an advocate for new moms.  I had to work to let go of my guilt.  And now, I work to be open and honest and let other moms know that their feelings might not be normal either and it's okay.  I reach out to those I know with new little ones to ask how Mom is doing.  REALLY doing.  I offer help. I urge you to do the same:  take a meal, do some laundry, occupy older children.

And I ask if they've talked to their doctors. If you are a doctor or nurse, I IMPLORE you to not ignore what you see in your patients.  I know you're on a time crunch, and there are many, many more to be seen behind the mother in for her six week checkup.   Please don't let that time crunch keep you from digging a little more and letting that mom know that you're there to help.

If you are that Mom:    YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!  There are specialists, local groups, and online support.  It's okay to get help.  It's okay to admit you need it.


And it's okay if you aren't normal.