Planning In The Deep

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The Reality Of Having Postpartum Anxiety and Depression. Part 1


I originally published this article on the platform Medium. But I knew this message had to be heard and knew it needed to be posted on my blog page as well. There is so much stigma associated around Perinatal Mood Disorders that we need to speak up and be vocal about our struggles. Mother’s are taking their own lives, oftentimes their babies lives along with them. This needs to end, mothers need more support in place. And no not locking them away and throwing out the key.

 

 

Even after having experienced three pregnancies prior, I had no idea how debilitating Postpartum Anxiety and Depression actually was. I also didn’t realize how much it can wreck havoc on your life and take the joy away from a mother when they need it the most.


I thought I was somewhat educated on what Postpartum Depression looked like from a prospective, and thought I knew what signs to look out for. All though I've never really experienced full blown Postpartum Depression and/or Anxiety with my other three children.

The years after my third child was born, up until I was pregnant with my fourth were the happiest years of my life. And I mean I was truly happy and loved being a mom. I was engaged and energetic, I was completely filled in every aspect of my life. I loved taking them to sesame place and the playground. I loved being a mom and motherhood in general. The thought of even saying this out load makes me cringe because I love my son with all my heart. But In all honesty, postpartum anxiety and depression left me with a hollowed out shell of the mother I once was.


February of 2014 is when I found out I was pregnant with my fourth child. My pregnancy was different in many ways, not too different such as the awful first trimester morning sickness, but different enough that I knew something was off in the last trimester of my pregnancy. I started isolating myself inside my bedroom, I was also so uncomfortable within my own skin. So uncomfortable in fact the thought of putting clothes on my body irritated me. I wore long maxi dresses during the summer months.


I was always late in my other three pregnancies, I was alway induced and my water broken with my other 3 pregnancies. I do understand that every pregnancy is different and I shouldn’t just assume that it won’t be, but in my head I kept thinking I had time. I was 4 cm dilated at 20 weeks with my third pregnancy among given two shots of steroids and told to stay on bed rest. He came two weeks late.


PS.. How in the world are you supposed to actually be on bedrest after getting shot up with steroids. I was speeding around my home scrubbing bathrooms, toilets and the kitchen.

And even after all of that, I was still two weeks late with my third.



Patrick came into the world on October 19, 2014, weighing a whopping 8 pounds 1 ounce at just shy of a month early. He was so bruised from delivery and looked like he just stepped out of the boxing ring.


I was actually scheduled for my very first C-Section the second week of November because Patrick was measuring in the 98th percentile for weight. The doctors were afraid that I wouldn’t be able to deliver him naturally, with having a history of delivering 8 pound babies.

I was looking at a 9–10 pound baby and there was no way it was happening naturally. I never had a C-Section with my other deliveries and looking back now, maybe, just maybe, him coming early was a blessing in disguise.

I always had horrible and extremely painful deliveries and never tolerated pain well. Like I mentioned above, I already had three prior pregnancies. I could never handle pain nor can I now.


So to my surprise when my husband and I arrived at the hospital to be checked, I had no idea I was in active labor. I was having slightly painful and irregular contractions for over 24 hours, though they weren’t anything like your typical labor contractions. Just imagine my surprise when the nurses at labor and delivery checked me and said, prep the delivery room she is 8cm dilated and ready to deliver.


I was in total shock and was nowhere near ready to have this baby. I still remember that early morning day in labor and delivery, it was eerie how quiet it was and so dead. Compared to the amount of mothers in labor with my other three deliveries, this was unsettling to say the least. Even though my labor was quick.. the pain I experienced was so darn intense I felt like I couldn’t keep pushing and the contractions took my breath away more so then ever before.

Between the time I arrived at the hospital and the time I delivered my son, it was a total of 4 hours from start to finish. And the doctors still had to break my bag of water with my fourth.



My 3 year old was obsessed with the baby in my belly, I have so many sweet pictures of him laying on my stomach, listening to the baby’s heartbeat with the monitor we had and kissing my stomach. It was 2 AM when I went to the hospital to just get checked (at least that is what I was thinking) and they were already fast asleep, I didn’t bother to wake them because I honestly thought I was going to be sent home, just like all the other times I rushed to the hospital thinking I was in labor with my prior pregnancies.

The following day we were going to paint my stomach. My kids were so excited and looking forward to it. Also being that Halloween was right around the corner. I felt so bad, just picturing their little faces, so confused waking up to mommy and daddy no longer there and their baby brother already born.

I arrived at the hospital around 2:30 am and Patrick was delivered at 6:18 am. I did need to still get an epidural shortly after being admitted, the pain was so intense. Also I was given a IV of potocin because my contractions were still too far apart, even at 9 com’s. Lastly, I still needed my water broken. I’ve never had my water break naturally with any of my pregnancies.

It still didn’t seem real.



Patrick ended up developing a slight temperature right before we were scheduled to be discharged. And being he was almost a month early, he was sent to the nicu for further observation. Furthermore, it was October and my children couldn’t visit being we were in the peak of cold and flu season.

The same day he was admitted to the NICU I was discharged. When your baby is in the NICU, you can‘t stay there with them to comfort or feed them over night. You can of coarse see your baby but only during limited times.



I had to go home without my baby, this is a feeling I can not explain nor anything I ever went through with any of my prior pregnancies. I felt completely detached and withdrawn from the world around me. It was the most heart wrenching and empty feeling I ever had to experience. We had our neighbors stopping by to see the baby, like most neighbors always do, to only have to explain that he had to stay for observation.

He ended up staying a total of 14 days from the time I was discharged. But this made me have a deeper appreciation for mother’s of babies in the NICU. Some babies are there far longer then mine. Some for weeks, months or even longer.

You also need to keep in mind that a lot of these mothers have small children at home, and some are military wives with departed spouses. Other mother’s may be single moms with small children at home, some may have to work while others may not have a sitter for their children. This is one of the most painful experiences in the world, to deliver a baby and return home without your baby in tow.

And this is exactly the moment when I started spiraling even more deeper into my Postpartum Depression and Anxiety.




He finally came home on October 30,2014, just one day before Halloween. Mind you I was already back in my pre-pregnancy size clothes by that point. I should of known then that something was wrong, I always gained at least 50 to 60lbs during all of my pregnancies, and I did gain a little less weight with Patrick, it was mostly belly and horrible swelling in my legs and feet. Not only did I deliver a 8.1 pound baby, my placenta weighed over 7 pounds.

Almost a year after my third child was born, my husband proposed on New Years and we were getting married that following October. I still had 50 pounds of extra baby weight from my 3rd pregnancy a year later.



I started doing Zumba and eventually joined a boot camp and thankfully I did lost the weight. So for me to be 115 pounds just 10 days after giving birth, back in my normal pre-pregnancy size jeans I should of known something was terribly wrong.


The first couple months after he was born the signs were so subtle and I just thought that they were normal. I did now have 4 kids in all reality, I wasn’t sleeping nor eating really at all, I was always agitated and detached for the outside world. Again I just thought I was overwhelmed, being I now have four kids… I’m just adjusting to my new crazy norm of being a stay at home mom of four.

NOPE 

 

 


Part 2 is in the following blog post, I will link it here do you can read it now. I wanted to break this post up into 2 separate posts to make it a tad bit easier to digest.

If you or anyone you know is struggling, please don’t hesitate to reach out for help. I would be happy to talk to anyone who needs help. Secondly, if you have someone you can trust, reach out to them.

REMEMBER… Nothing you did before, during or after pregnancy has anything to do with you getting Postpartum Depression. You did absolutely nothing wrong.



You are not alone.

You are a great mother.

You deserve to be happy.

Some of my favorite resources for everything Postpartum Depression related.

Please comment down below if you would like to share your story of recovery to help encourage anyone out there in the thick of this horrible illness.

I am thinking of starting a collection series of blog posts from other woman and their experiences with postpartum being no two are the same. I want to help anyone out there that may be struggling in silence.

Reach out to me, through either social media, my blogging or email if you would like to remain anonymous. Don’t hesitate to email me at planninginthedeep@gmail.com if you need someone to talk to or to share your story. I promise I won’t in any way shape or form judge you. We all know we already judge ourselves enough.