The Importance of Seeking Help: How I Overcame Postpartum Depression
I have memories from as early as 3 years old (decorating my pail for preschool or being excited about walking into class and seeing finger painting set up). I remember my kindergarten “boyfriend’s” name (Benjamin). I remember the first self-help book I read in 4th grade (How to Be Popular in the Sixth Grade). I remember people’s birthdays and anniversaries. I remember deadlines and important appointments.
By all accounts, I have a great memory. But I can’t remember my almost 4-year-old daughter’s first words, first steps, or first food.
I didn’t have the energy or interest to make a baby book. I didn’t take any cute milestone Instagram photos. In fact, almost all of our photos from the first year are dark and grainy, showing us holed up in a sad apartment, hiding from the world.
The year after her birth is permanently clouded over with rage, anxiety, and depression.
Some of that was from Covid shutdowns. A lot of it was from my self-isolation.
I worried people would see the truth if I left the house: I am a bad mom.
They would see how every time my baby cries, so do I.
Do I have Postpartum Depression?
Having navigated depression several times in life, I felt like a Depression Pro™ by the time I was in my 30s.
I knew the signs and how to bootstrap my way out of them.
Loss of interest in things I love? Check.
Feelings of hopelessness and worthlessness? Check.
Crying all day? Check
Always sleepy, low appetite, can’t concentrate? Check, check, and check!
But then, “I hate her.”
I remember sobbing uncontrollably in a dark room with my baby screaming and admitting to my mom and sister that I hate my newborn.
But the truth was, the only thing in the world I wanted more than dying was to protect her.
How can someone reconcile those two emotions?
I didn’t feel good enough to be her mom, but I knew nobody else would protect her as fiercely as I would.
And, for me, protecting her included not putting any medication in my body that could possibly pass through breast milk.
I was determined to grit my teeth and bear it. I didn’t want to talk to professionals because I was afraid they would judge me or, worse, medicate me.
I continued like this for a year.
I went to work and cried at my desk while I pumped.
I came home on my lunch breaks and cried while trying to bond with my baby.
I cried in my car on the way home at the end of the day and sat in the driveway, afraid to go inside.
Every night, I cried myself to sleep, telling myself I would be a better mom tomorrow, and every morning, I woke up ready to fail.
So, What Causes PPD (Postpartum Depression)?
Rates of Postpartum Depression have been increasing for decades. In fact, from 2010 to 2021, PPD rates in the US increased 105% overall (and even worse for BIPOC; 110% for Hispanic birthers and 140% for Black birthers).
Why is this happening to us? Is it more awareness? Or is it a lack of systemic support while requiring more from mothers than years past?
Personally, it feels like the latter.
“We expect women to work like they don’t have children and raise children as if they don’t work.”
― Eve Rodsky, Fair Play: A Game-Changing Solution for When You Have Too Much to Do
In California, where I’m located, workers who qualify get about six weeks of partially paid maternity leave to heal from childbirth. How am I supposed to heal when my partner is working all day? Why do non-birthing parents not get time to care for their partner and new baby?
My daughter had trouble nursing, trouble sleeping, and reflux issues. This means she was up every 45 minutes, around the clock, to cry. But my partner had to go to a “real job” the next day, so it mostly fell to me.
When my daughter was seven weeks old, I had an emergency appendectomy. My thoughts when going under anesthesia were, in order:
I hope I die during this surgery
I hope I don’t die because my daughter needs me
I am so thankful to get some sleep
When my daughter was four months old, the focus of my depression switched from lack of sleep to lack of time with my daughter.
Including our commute, daycare had 50 waking hours with my daughter every week. That left me with 34 hours, or when put another way, only two hours a day with my baby on a workday.
It felt cruel. I cried that my daughter would love her childcare provider more than me.
And that’s only a small fraction of the worries I was feeling.
According to the APA, here is a full list of the risk factors for PPD:
A change in hormone levels after childbirth
Previous experience of depression or anxiety
Family history of depression or mental illness
Stress involved in caring for a newborn and managing new life changes
Having a challenging baby who cries more than usual, is hard to comfort, or whose sleep and hunger needs are irregular and hard to predict
Having a baby with special needs (premature birth, medical complications, illness)
First-time motherhood, very young motherhood, or older motherhood
Other emotional stressors, such as the death of a loved one or family problems
Financial or employment problems
Isolation and lack of social support
While all these things can contribute, here are the real-life situations that made me feel terrible.
Lack of sleep
Shame around formula feeding
Stigma against anti-depressants
Expectations to get back to my office job at full capacity as soon as possible
Pressure to do everything “the right way”
How Did I Treat My Postpartum Depression?
As I mentioned before, I was determined to bootstrap my way out of depression. Looking back, I lost so much time because of my belief that doing things the ‘easy way’ was a disservice to my daughter.
I waited it out and cried for the entire first year of my daughter’s life.
I tried self-help books, sunshine, vitamins, plenty of water, and changing my diet. It wasn’t till I started working with a professional that I saw real change.
Let me be the first to say therapy is not always accessible, and medication is not always the answer. But, for me, it helped to lift the fog just enough that the other holistic options also started to pull their weight.
How Can We Support Someone with Postpartum Depression (PPD)?
Do you mean, aside from systemic change, where non-birthing parents are also home with their children, and everyone gets a whole year to adjust to their new life? Like they do in other established countries that, oddly enough, have lower PPD rates? (IE: Germany provides two years of paid parental leave and has a PPD rate under 4%, according to this study.)
Systemic change sounds dreamy. But until we’re there, here’s what would have helped me during my PPD, and might help your loved ones too:
Sleep—When my daughter was a month old, I was so sleep-deprived that I asked my brand-new housekeeper to hold her so I could sleep. This stranger held my baby for me for the two hours she would have spent cleaning my apartment.
Meal Trains—When I was breastfeeding, everyone told me how important it was to nourish my body properly, but almost nobody had suggestions for how to do that. One day, my sister came over to deliver a week’s worth of produce. She chopped it up and stored it in serving sizes in my fridge. I still get teary-eyed when I think about that day.
Housekeeping—I had family come over to visit my baby and complain that the hand towel in the guest bathroom was damp. Don’t do this. If you see something that needs some attention, fix it. In fact, doing one household task should be common practice when visiting a family with a newborn.
Understanding—We’re cleansing ourselves of mom guilt. Know a mom who has to formula feed? Great! Know a mom who chooses to bed-share safely? Awesome! Know a mom who needs an antidepressant? Wonderful! We are all just doing our damn best.
Encourage Parental Leave—Okay, we’re back to systemic, but all parents of all genders deserve time with their babies. We must advocate for companies to view parents equally; mothers are not a burden, and fathers should not be expected back to work the next day.
How Am I Now?
Looking back, I am sad I “missed” so much of my daughter’s first year, and I wish I had gotten a handle on it sooner. But a funny thing happens when you ‘burn it all down.’ You get to build it back up however you want.
When the fog cleared and I looked at my daughter, I knew my life trajectory would be irrevocably changed. I decided parents and children need another voice in their corner. I can use my experience to fight for the people still struggling to find their footing. And so, I left the corporate world and decided to share my story.
I still have rough days, days where I don’t feel good enough, but then again, don’t we all just want THE BEST for our kids?
