My Struggle With Postpartum Depression

Postpartum Depression (PPD) is real. It's not the "Baby Blues" and it doesn't have to hit right after the baby is born. I have 3 children, struggled with PPD three times, and have hidden it for years.

When my first child was born, I couldn't have been happier. I had my baby boy in my arms, crying happy tears with my husband as we stared at the life we created together. However, as weeks went by, the crying wasn't from happiness and I didn't know what was wrong with me. The days seemed so long. My husband would be at work all day and I could barely hold it together most of the time. I would rock my newborn and have tears streaming down my face. 

I cried... A lot. 

My son had a high allergy to lactose so I was unable to breastfeed. He was on special formula and didn't sleep well at night. I associated my crying and depression with exhaustion. I was just tired. I just needed sleep. But, I knew in the back of my mind it was worse. Something else wasn't right. 

I remember one time, my son was just a few weeks... maybe a month old. He wouldn't stop crying. Just like a normal baby does. I laid him in his crib and sat in the living room and bawled. I didn't know WHY I was bawling. Just go pick up the baby and rock him, sing to him, smile at him... He will calm down. I couldn't handle it. I mentally, emotionally, physically could not handle being a mom. My sister walked in on her lunch break, just coming by to see us, and heard him crying. She told me to sit on the couch and she sat and rocked him her whole lunch break while I sat on the couch, feeling like a failure. 

This went on for almost 6 months. I would try to get out of the house quite a bit. I would put a smile on my face and tell everyone how much I loved motherhood. Because, I did. I loved my son. I loved being a mom. I HATED how I felt every day.

I felt like I was a prisoner in my own body. 

As time went on, I felt better and better. The sunshine was a little brighter each day. My laughter was less forced and more genuine. I still had no idea what had happened with me. 

A few months later, we found out we were pregnant with our second child. I feared that I would have the same response this time around. 

My second son was born 19 months after my first and was exclusively breastfed. 

No PPD.

HUH!?

He was born in August, so I figured I was getting more sunlight and I was getting out more, so that was why I wasn't having any struggles. 

When he hit 10 months, we were about to move 10 hours away from our home to a new state for my husband's new job. I decided to wean my son before moving so I didn't have to worry about nursing and moving.

Big Mistake.

Postpartum Depression swept in FAST and HARD! Not only did I have the emotions of moving, I also was dealing with imbalanced hormones and postpartum depression, causing anxiety attacks, outbursts toward my husband and children, non-stop crying for hours, dark dark dark days that never seemed to end. I had just moved away from family, I had no one to support me outside my home and here I was again, completely miserable. I didn't know when it would end.

A few months went by.... Let's be serious... about 9 months went by and I started to feel somewhat better. 

We now have a beautiful daughter in our family. She is 10 months old and still breastfeeding. I fear weaning her. She is slowly weaning herself and not as much interested in momma as she is with food. 

I noticed myself getting short with my husband. I was offended by the jokes I used to laugh at. I would start crying for no reason at all. I started cooping myself up in the house not wanting to leave or see people. 

I am now at the point I'm not sleeping at night. Most of the time it's because one of the kids has us up, but if they are all sleeping I am waking up in the night with anxiety. I'm not happy. I fake happy. Not happy on the inside. I'm overwhelmed by the smallest things. I get so frustrated about little things and take them out on my husband. I'm not laughing like I used to. There are days I dread talking on the phone. I have times I don't want to go to the grocery store because I don't want to run into someone and have to small talk. Some days are dark days. I don't even want to get out of bed. Some mornings I stand in the shower and cry... for no reason, really.  Many days I have that lump in my throat that won't go away, just on the verge of tears and one small hiccup and the tears stream down. I'm struggling every day. 

It's a silent struggle and this is something we don't talk about enough. 

I know it is something I will get through. I have before. 

I sat my husband down this morning before work and told him everything. All my struggles. I admitted to him and myself that I am struggling with postpartum depression, again. I need open and honest communication with him. I need less jokes and poking fun at me for a while. I need support. I need time. 

He agreed.

Postpartum depression is real. It's dark. It's painful. It's lonely. It's a tremendous struggle.

I will get through this. I have before.

 It is just one day at a time. One hour at a time. One minute at a time. One breath at a time.

One day I will be better.