skip to main |
skip to sidebar
The Easter bunny visits our house...
I have Postpartum Depression.
Whew, there. I said it. I've known for a couple of months now, but I haven't told many people. I have been pretty withdrawn, so I haven't even been talking to many people. And it's not really an easy thing to talk about. A lot of people don't understand. Heck, I don't understand. All I know is that there are a lot of tears, a lot of anxiety, a lot of anger, and a lot of withdrawing being done. It hasn't been easy for me to accept. I mean, why should I be depressed? Trying to get pregnant for about eight years, finally giving up, then ending up with our little surprise miracle who is perfectly healthy, not to mention such a good baby; it should make me the happiest woman in the world. And I am happy. But I also have PPD. Which doesn't sound like it makes sense - but believe me, it doesn't feel like it either. Part of making sense of it is understanding what "depression" actually means. I thought that people who are depressed are just sad all the time. Well, not necessarily so. Other symptoms of depression include anxiety and irritability, which happen to be my worst symptoms. It also helps to recognize why I have PPD. It's not because I feel like I have nothing to be happy about; like I said, I actually am happy. Here's something I read in my research: "Current research still has not determined the exact cause of postpartum depression. What is known is that pregnancy and the postpartum period following the delivery are times of great biochemical upheaval, complicated by increasing social and psychological changes." Biochemical upheaval, for sure. I've never felt anything like it. I don't even feel like myself anymore. Which is part of the reason I did not want to start the medication that was prescribed to me; I was afraid of feeling even less like myself. I was also leery about the way it was prescribed: by a doctor who doesn't know me at all, and didn't take any time to get to know me. But that is another story altogether! "The Trials of Trying to Find a New Doctor in Edmonton". Scary, scary stuff. Not something you want to read when you're alone or right before bed. But I eventually managed to get a second opinion from a professional who knows me and who I trust implicitly, and he agreed that the medication should help me get better quicker. Which is important because we are under a deadline! Ryan's parental leave benefits run out in about three more months, so it's imperative that I'm doing well by then. He never planned to take the full amount of leave time he was entitled to (he would have been back at work full-time a month or two ago) but then I started having troubles, so he's staying home with me. Thank God he can! I've been seeing a therapist, which has been helpful. She's teaching me coping strategies for when I feel anxious and overwhelmed. And I'm trying to force myself to be social when I just feel like withdrawing. I am already doing better. Two months ago I was a total wreck. Now I'm only a partial wreck. :-)
Well, here I am another year older. Yes, the year I was thirty was a pretty amazing year for me. But the year I was thirty-one was even better - I became a mom! Here's a picture of me on my 32nd birthday, with Julia, who is wearing her "Got presents?" t-shirt in honour of my birthday!
And yes, she does smile a lot - just not when she sees the camera for some reason!?
