Let me start out by saying that I absolutely, 100% adore my children. They
are my entire world. There is nothing else I would rather be than their mommy.
My whole reason behind writing this blog is not a call for attention. It is so
that, just maybe, someone out there will read it and know that they are not
alone. Nobody is perfect. It is okay to admit that something is wrong and you
need help. It's okay to cry. It's okay to make mistakes. That is how we grow as
a person. This is my journey to becoming a better me. To overcoming postpartum
depression. To proving to my children that I am more than a diagnosis or
statistic. I am a fantastic mom, wife, daughter, sister, and friend. I am me
and I am stronger than this. I will prevail.
In October of 2009 I became a first time mother. My husband was present for
the birth, but unfortunately left ten days later for five months of OSUT
training. He would have a short 2 week break around Christmas, but aside from
that, would miss out on all of the firsts that so many take for granted. I was
very overwhelmed. Not only had I been put in a position to care for a newborn
on my own for the first time, but I was also butting heads with my family. I
sank into a mindset where all that existed was my little family. It was not
bad, though. Nothing serious but the usual missing of the other half of me. The
five months went by incredibly fast and we were once again reunited to
co-parent our sweet Conner. During those five months, I can count on one hand the
number of times I said "I am not good enough for this" or thought
something unpleasant. It happens, people. Every single one of you who become a
parent will, at some point in time, think something negative about your little
bundle of joy. Yes, every second of it is worth it. You would be lying if you
say that you never wished that you could go back to before and sleep an entire
night through or not have to worry about anyone other than you. Chances are, as
soon as you think those thoughts, you will feel bad for thinking them. It's
okay. We all have them.
Fast forward to January 2012. We found out that our family would be
relocated across country for a second time to a new duty station. With that
news also came the dreaded "D" word. We had been trying to get
pregnant, but decided to stop due to the upcoming deployment. Unknown to us,
little guy had already taken up residence in my uterus. Not even two weeks
after getting news of the PCS, we find out we're going to have an addition to
our family. I honestly think that that moment is when everything began. My
initial reaction was panic. I was shocked by how fast it had happened. I had
only been off birth control for a month. It had taken us almost a year to
conceive Conner. We had decided to wait until after deployment. The panic
quickly turned to joy, and I knew that it was supposed to be like this. We were
meant to have our second child at this time.
Over the months of my pregnancy we made a cross-country move, bought a
house, and prepared for deployment. Let me just put this out there - No matter
how much you mentally prepare for deployment, you will never know exactly how
it feels until it is happening. I felt myself feeling very unattached to my
baby. What is normally a joyous countdown to the estimated due date was also a
countdown to saying ‘see you later’ to my husband and father of my children. It
meant we get to finally hold my sweet baby, but that days later I would have a
new heartbreak. So for me, I was torn. I was both happy and sad for labor to come.
Here is another thing about deployments – The day is NEVER the same as what
is on the orders. The closer I got to my due date, the more stressed I became
over the thought that my husband possibly may not being there for the birth.
Not that it really mattered. Even if he was there, he would soon have to leave.
The whole point of having a second baby, other than very much wanting another
child, was so that he could experience everything he missed with Conner. Here
we were facing the exact same scenario, only knowing this time he would be gone
longer. Most of this part is in my birth story so I will just put in the
important parts. I found an amazing doula, who has since become a good friend,
to be there with me during labor and delivery, regardless of if Chris were
there or not. I had found out that the hospital I would be delivering at did
not induce unless it was medically necessary until you hit 42 weeks. By the
way, I think that that rule is AWESOME. Considering the timing we were given
for D-Day, we were cutting it very close to Chris not being there.
Fortunately for us, I went into labor on my own the night before my
estimated due date and he was able to be in attendance. We welcomed our little
Lucas into the world 13 minutes into his due date. It was one of the best days
of my life. Then I remembered that we had very little time left together as a
family. Thirteen days later, we dropped Chris off and said our goodbyes. He
left on Conner’s third birthday, which really made the day that much worse for
me.
For the longest time, I have brushed everything off. I had my placenta
encapsulated and very quickly went through those to fend off PPD in the
beginning. Now I realize that that was a HUGE mistake and I should have spaced
them out more. For the first 2 months, everything was great. I felt even better
than what I did after Conner had been born. I fully believe taking the placenta
pills attributed to that. Once I ran out, I started noticing my energy falling.
Doing every day things like brushing my teeth, showering, cleaning up seemed
like huge tasks to accomplish. My hair started falling out in handfuls. I have
bald spots all over now. I wasn’t losing weight anymore, even though I have
been busting my ass for nearly two months. I have zero appetite, but still eat
my calorie goal per day so that my body doesn’t go into starvation mode. My
temper is very short. I have found myself far less patient with Conner. He has
been acting out very badly. I know he has a lot that happened at once, but I
also feel he is feeding off of my negative energy. I’ve said some things to him
that I should never have. He’s picked up phrases that make me so sad because I
know he heard them from me. I stare in the mirror and tell myself how ugly and
pathetic I am. I’ve found myself thinking that I should get divorced because
Chris could find someone much better for him and the boys. I instantly regret
even thinking that, because my life would be meaningless without my husband and
kids in it. I don’t want to be social. I want a break from my every day duties
as a mother, but have an extreme panic attack at the idea of leaving them. I
finally did leave Lucas with a trusted friend so that I could have some
one-on-one time with Conner, but felt so empty without him there. Conner felt
it, too. There was a day that I was so upset and felt like I may lash out even
worse than I had before that I had to call three people before someone came
over to sit with me while I calmed down. I am so embarrassed over that. It’s
essential to this blog, though. I’m sure I’ll be unfairly judged on most things
I’ve admitted to, but I can live with that.
The worst thing about all of this is that I am pretty much doing it alone.
There is only so much support my husband can offer from 7,000ish miles away. I
actually only let down my guard and let on that things were bad a week or so
ago. I didn’t need him to worry about me when he already has enough to worry
about being in a warzone. Oh, and then there is that. The stress of worrying if
something bad is going to happen over there. I know I shouldn’t think about it
like that, but let’s be realistic. There IS a possibility and I am the kind of
person who needs to at least attempt to be prepared for that. Really. They even
make them fill out funeral stuff and do a will. Do you understand how
heartbreaking it is to sit down with your spouse and discuss those things? It’s
terrible. My family is too far away. I only have a few people I completely
trust here. I hope no one takes offense to that, but I have my reasons for being
so selective.
Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I was so afraid to make a doctors
appointment, because I was scared they would take my kids away if I told them
how bad it’s been and how most days I don’t feel like I am worth being here.
After talking in depth with a friend, I finally made an appointment to see a
doctor and discuss everything that has been going on. Only a few people were
told about it. The rest just saw me disappear from Facebook. It was even more
depressing to realize who really cared to check in on me. People can say they
will keep you in their thoughts and will be there for you if you need them, but
there aren’t many who hold up to that when you do need them. Oh well. That’s
life. And I am completely fine with it. I am very thankful for those who took
the time out of their day to send me a text, call or come over.
Today I had my appointment with my PCM. Before the appointment began, he
recognized my accent. He is from the area I am from. I’m not sure why, but it
made me feel way more comfortable talking about things after finding that out.
There was no ‘maybe’. I absolutely have postpartum depression. What makes me so
sad is that I’m sure a lot of people have it way worse than I do. If mine has taken
this big of a toll on me, how has it affected others? How many were like me, in
denial and afraid of asking for help? How many people go undiagnosed and end up
doing something harsh unintentionally? So please, if any part of my blog hit
home for you, get help. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong for
putting an effort into bettering yourself. It shows that you are a fighter.
That you will do anything to be the best person you can be, for yourself and
your children. But most of all – I just want you to know that you are not
alone. Tell someone. Tell me. Anonymously in a comment here. In a Facebook
message. Through text. E-mail me ambermyrda@yahoo.com.
Just tell someone. I have taken those positive steps to better myself. You can,
too. We can walk through this together. You are never alone.
The next steps for me will be starting a new medication and seeing a
therapist. At first I didn’t want to write this part, but people need to know
what is out there to help. I guess my case is bad enough that, instead of
making me wait for a referral out for behavioral health, they want me to come
in tomorrow to see someone. From there, I will be set up with someone more
long-term. They sent me for lab work in regards to the weight loss issue. Those
results should be back within 2 weeks. I’ve been referred to the nutrition
clinic for that, as well, and have my first appointment with them this coming
Tuesday. I’ve also enrolled in a few classes through ACS. The “Scream Free
Parenting” and “Scream Free Marriage” ones, to learn how to further cope with
these insane mood swings.
I know that this blog will probably taken the wrong way by many, but I’m
prepared for the negatives. What matters is that someone saw my signs, talked
to me about them, and I am going through the appropriate channels to better
myself for my family. Thanks for reading, if you made it this far. If you are
anyone you know is going through something like this, talk. You don’t know how
much it means to have someone show that they genuinely care.
