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Postpartum Anxiety & Depression

I Thought I Was Dying, But I Had Postpartum Anxiety

by Jill
written by Jill

The Postpartum Support International help line phone number is 1-800-944-4733. Keep reading for more resources you can bookmark or share with friends and family.

If you’ve been reading this blog over the last 7 years, you’ve likely heard me at least mention my struggles with postpartum anxiety and OCD at some point. I’ve tried to be open about it for nearly as long as I’ve recognized it in myself.

I first wrote about it back in 2011.

I feel a sense of obligation to talk about this because I may have never sought treatment had it not been for the women who came before me and shared their own stories.

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I never realized postpartum ANXIETY or OCD were real diagnosis. I didn’t ever feel “depressed” so it never occurred to me the anger and the worry and the obsessive fear I felt had anything to do with my mental health. I assumed that I was just a BAD MOTHER. How awful, right?

So you can imagine my relief when I read this and recognized, finally, that what I was feeling was actually something that could be treated. I wasn’t a bad mom, I was sick. PLEASE BOOKMARK THIS and share it and refer back to it!

THE SYMPTOMS OF POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION & ANXIETY (IN PLAIN MAMA ENGLISH)

I white knuckled my way through it with my first baby, and I regret that, but I didn’t even know something was wrong with me then. I finally got help when my 2nd baby was 9 months old. I had plans in place after the birth of my 3rd and 4th baby- prescriptions on hand and ready to fill.

It never got easier to get through it, but it did get easier to fill those prescriptions.

If you recognize any of these symptoms in yourself or someone you care about, please reach out to a medical care provider- your family physician, your OB, or even ask your pediatrician for a recommendations if you need one.

PLEASE NOTE that PPD/PPA does not always hit those first few weeks. Mine never hit until my babies were between 4-6 months old, long after I “aced” that 6 week postpartum screening.

Postpartum Resources:

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Talk About Postpartum Anxiety, Then Talk Some More
Postpartum Anxiety & Depression

Talk About Postpartum Anxiety, Then Talk Some More

by Jill
written by Jill

“Ugh. She’s blogging about that again?!”

I don’t know, sometimes I worry that this is the reaction I’ll get when I write about postpartum and perinatal anxiety on here. I worry for a second, and then I remember how many women have reached out to me since 2011 to say that they had no idea they were dealing with this until they read what I wrote. I would say, on average, at least one a week- some weeks are much more than that.

So yeah, I’m writing about it again.

Mostly, I’m writing to tell you to read this Huffington Post piece I was interviewed for- “Postpartum Anxiety Might Be Even More Common Than PPD.” But also, I want to add a little more to what you’ll read in that article.

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  1. I’m currently NOT being treated for anxiety, though I started my pregnancy on Lexapro. I wound up weaning off of it about a month in because I worried it was causing me to feel depressed. I’ve been doing pretty well without it so far, but I do have a prescription filled and ready to go if I feel like I need it. Clarifying this because at the beginning of my pregnancy a few of you asked if I was still on medication and I said yes because I was at the time.
  2. If you recognize this in yourself, put a call into your OB/midwife or a family doctor. This is also a great list of support groups from Postpartum Progress. PP is also a tremendous resource. Follow them, read them, they even have a private forum you can join.
  3. Talk about it. Talk with your friends about it. The thing about this information is it’s here on the internet. It’s on blogs and on Facebook. If the internet isn’t a place you immerse yourself frequently, if your mom and and your aunts are who you’re counting on for mothering advice (and there’s nothing wrong with that), you’re likely not going to know about it. Make this a topic of conversation at moms groups, and with childhood friends over coffee. Talk, don’t just share on social media.

 

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Postpartum Anxiety Will Happen Again, And I’m Going To Be Fine
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Postpartum Anxiety Will Happen Again, And I’m Going To Be Fine

by Jill
written by Jill

“Aren’t you scared it will happen again?”

That’s a question a few have asked since announcing my 4th pregnancy. I’m not offended by it. I’m open about dealing with postpartum anxiety and OCD. This is a part of my life, and many people know that.

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I pretty much know it will come back because it always does. I think it was there after my first, and I was able to manage it without a diagnosis because… I guess I just white knuckled my way through it with only one child to take care of.

I know it was the worst it’s ever been after my second. And then? I found Postpartum Progress, and I recognized the symptoms in me, and realized this had less to do with my ability to mother and more to do with needing help.

After my 3rd, it came back, and I knew it. I saw it. I looked it in the face, told it to fuck off, and called my doctor. I was on Lexapro within a day.

And this time, I’m just as prepared all because I KNOW what it looks like, I know where to go, I know I have support.

I’m not scared because I’m empowered. I’m empowered because of Postpartum Progress.

So here I am, for the third year, asking you to help me support this organization that does more than anyone to empower and educate people about maternal mental health, and then moves those people to take action.

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It’s time for the 3rd annual Climb Out Of The Darkness fundraiser, and while I’ll be climbing from the elliptical at my local gym, it’s not too late for any of you to find a team near you or start your own!

If you can’t participate in that way, I would love for you to consider donating to my COTD page. My goal is $500, and this year I’ve teamed up with the lovely Samantha Auburn of Auburn Jewelry to give one custom sterling silver pendant to one donor, to be drawn at random on Jun 30th.

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I’ll leave you with this video I created for Postpartum Progress last year, with the help of their 2015 & 2016 Warrior Moms Conference sponsor Cotton Babies.

Postpartum Progress is saving lives. Please help us reach more people by supporting the Climb today! You can read more about Climb Out Of The Darkness here.

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BabiesPopular PostsPostpartum Anxiety & DepressionThe Story

For Me, I Guess It’s Always A Matter Of Time- Postpartum Anxiety

by Jill
written by Jill

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2 pills. Lexapro this time, not Zoloft.

The anxiety is back, and I’m dealing with it. I have the gift of experience behind me now. The gift of knowing what to look for. The gift of knowing what to do, where to go, the words to say over the phone to my medical provider without stumbling or tripping over embarrassment and fear.

Like having a cold or strep throat. I was/am sick. I am taking medication for it. I will get better.

Postpartum Anxiety never shows itself to me right after the baby is born. In fact, I was so blissed out over Lowell this time (once I got over the horrific postpartum healing experience) that I thought it wouldn’t bother me ever again.

But, just to be sure, I took extra precautions. My husband and I have guarded my sleep and well-being with ferocity this time around. We hired help so I wasn’t trying to balance work along with everything else. We let obligations slide. We pressed ourselves less.

Still, it’s back. I’d say it began to really show itself around 5 months postpartum. I tried to wait it out. We had a rough start to the new year, so I thought I just needed to get life under control.

But the more I struggled, the more I realized it wouldn’t happen without help. I didn’t want it to get as bad as it did last time before I reached out.

So if I’ve seemed less engaging, less involved here and other social media platforms lately, if I’ve missed an email you’ve sent, I’m sorry. Half of that is because I’m struggling (and my reaction to anxiety is to just shut down and ignore everything), and half of that is because I’m fighting, and giving myself permission to work at my own pace.

The meds are working, though, and I’m working through it. It just takes time, and grace, and support. I’m lucky to have all 3.

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Postpartum Anxiety & DepressionStuff

My Picture of Postpartum Anxiety: Before

by Jill
written by Jill

First, I want to thank all of you who have been beyond supportive since I told you all about my postpartum anxiety diagnosis last week. You all continually put smiles on my face, and your support means so much. I’m sorry to hear so many of you have been through or are going through the same thing, but I sure do appreciate you sharing your experiences.

I’ve had quite a few people reach out to me since then, wondering if maybe what they’re experiencing might be something similar… wondering what PPA looked like for me, what made me finally ask for help. So here’s the first part of that story.

Before:

My mind was nearly always racing. I couldn’t focus on simple tasks, and just thinking about what I hadn’t accomplished made my anxiety levels rise. It was a horrible cycle because my anxiety paralyzed me and made me so overwhelmed I didn’t know where to start. So then I’d just do nothing, all the while feeling terribly anxious about doing nothing and knowing it’s going to bite me in the ass. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It wasn’t just tasks I couldn’t focus on. I’d find myself holding Leyna and zoning out, or just staring at her on the floor, not knowing what to say to her. I didn’t feel connected to her. I loved her, I knew this, and I took care of her. I never neglected her, but I had to force myself to smile at her and coo back at her.

Shatters my heart to a million little pieces admitting that.

I was perpetually irritated. The sound of my children screaming or crying evoked a physical response in me. My heart would pound, my shoulders would tense, my teeth would clench. I could hardly control my urge to scream right back at them.

To be completely honest, most days I couldn’t control that urge at all. I was always yelling.

The simplest tasks seemed insurmountable. Leaving the house with one kid was hard enough. The days I had 2 to take care of, I simply didn’t want to go anywhere. But it’s not like we stayed home and made use of our time here, either. Kendall would easily get bored, and I couldn’t handle constantly entertaining him.

Even things like crayons seemed like enormous burdens, sure to make just another mess I’d have to clean up, which would be just another thing I’d have to do on the long list of things that were never getting done.

The days I was responsible for the kids while Scott worked at his office (he works from home 3 days a week), I would pace anxiously the last hour before he got home. Then I would beg him to please take the kids from me the moment he walked in the door. I felt terrible that I couldn’t even deal with them for 6-8 hours on my own merely 2 freaking days a week without needing assistance.

I’ll note that this got worse as Kendall dropped his nap. That royally fucked me. Hard. I NEEDED those 2-3 hours to recharge… even if Leyna didn’t nap at the same time.

Intrusive thoughts were a part of normal, every day life. It was completely common for me to envision dropping my baby when I picked her up from her crib, backing over my son when I pulled out of the garage (even though I knew he was at school or buckled in the back of the car), hitting other cars head-on as we drove down the highway, flying off the interstate overpasses, and so many other horrific scenarios.

It didn’t mean I wanted to DO any of those things, quite the opposite. I just COULDN’T stop envisioning those things happening. The visions were all very, very detailed and graphic in my head.

I was always thinking about what would happen if I died, or my husband died, or my babies died. All. the. time.

While all intrusive thoughts made my anxiety rise, some stopped me in my tracks, like the thought of accidentally dropping my kids over any sort of railing or balcony. People falling from great heights became a HUGE trigger for me.

One night I happened to be watching the evening news while writing. I looked up to see a man falling 20 feet after reaching out to catch a baseball at a Texas Rangers game. Immediately after the clip, the news anchor said they received word that that man died. He was at the game with his son.

I could not shake that image for weeks. I cried so hard, I wanted to puke. I kept envisioning what he must have seen on his way down, and could hear my own son screaming. I had nightmares. It was terrible, and it was enough to make me beg my husband not to ever sit that close to the railing at any sporting event.

When I went to L.A. at the end of October, I sat on the upper level of Pantages Theater for the Zelda 25th Anniversary Symphony, a few rows back from the front of the balcony. I could hardly focus on the show. The whole time I kept thinking about how easy it would be to fall over.

When we stood for applause, I panicked, worried the people behind me would somehow shove me over. I knew it was an irrational fear. I was a good 10 feet away from the front of the balcony, and they’d have to push me over 3 other rows of people, but there was no reasoning with my fear.

That weekend was actually the beginning of what lead me to get help.

I’ll share more about that and what things are like now that I’m starting to feel better next week.

If any of this sounds familiar to you and you’re wondering if you might also have postpartum anxiety or postpartum depression, please make an appointment to talk to your doctor. You can see your family doctor. Tell your family you’re due for a checkup if you don’t want to let them know your concerns yet. Though, I’ll say from experience, opening up about it to someone, face to face, makes a world of difference… or it did for me. Also, check out Postpartum Progress for more support. 

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Acceptance: Postpartum Anxiety and Me
ParenthoodPostpartum Anxiety & DepressionStuffThe Story

Acceptance: Postpartum Anxiety and Me

by Jill
written by Jill

This is normal…

I told myself.

All mothers worry…

I convinced myself.

I’ll get through this…

I thought.

I’m totally fine…

I hoped.

Nearly 2 weeks ago, after many months of anxiety and irritability, peaking with a full-on anxiety attack at the end of October, I was diagnosed with postpartum anxiety.

I have so much to share with you all about how I got here, what the symptoms were, how I’m coping, what my plan is, but I’m not sure I can get through all of that right now.

I’ll just start with this:

I never knew how on edge I was until I wasn’t.

I started meds nearly 2 weeks ago. While I’m obviously still working through all of this, for the first time in a really long time I finally feel like ME again.

I didn’t even realize *I* was gone until I came back.

I met Katherine Stone at Blogher this year. I’d known of her and the work she does through Postpartum Progress for a while now, but I never paid much attention to the resources on her website because I didn’t think they applied to me. 

I wasn’t depressed.

I never cried. I’m actually quite happy with my life right now… when I’m not completely stressed out, overwhelmed, worried and angry.

At the beginning of October, Katherine reached out to me to help spread the word about Strong Start Day. I was happy to help her out, and, for the first time, I spent a good amount of time on her website in an effort to make myself more familiar with her cause.

As I read through The Symptoms Of Postpartum Depression & Anxiety (in plain mama English) I started shaking my head.

No way. No. This wasn’t me. No. Was it??

Racing thoughts- check
Constantly worried- check
Disturbing thoughts- check
Can’t eat- check
Sense of dread- check
Can’t sleep- no freaking idea since I never have the opportunity to try for more than 3-4 hours at a time
Irritated and angry- CHECK (at EVERYTHING and EVERYONE all. the. time.)
Afraid of things that could potentially harm my baby- CHECK

(I can not go up or down a flight of stairs with my baby without my heart racing. I can’t dream of buying a house with any sort of loft because I’m terrified my children will somehow fall over the railing and die. I can’t even look at a picture of a house with a loft without visualizing this happening.)

Still, knowing all of this fit and that all of this seemed to make my life make a little more sense, I ignored it.

There was nothing really wrong with me. I was just stressed out, I thought.

I quit freelancing projects, backed out of social obligations, and tried to cut myself some more slack.

It didn’t help. Things got worse, and within a few weeks of writing that post about Strong Start Day, I was in a doctor’s office, explaining what lead to an anxiety attack that I thought was a stroke.

When I left the hospital after both of my kids were born with those pamphlets on postpartum depression, I don’t remember seeing anything about anxiety. At my 6 week appointment, my midwife asked if I was suicidal, if I cried a lot, if I felt depressed. I didn’t. I still don’t.

It never occurred to me that what I’m experiencing was anything other than me really sucking at motherhood.

That’s honestly what I thought was wrong- that I’m just a terrible mother.

I’m not.

Sometimes it’s more than just a funk. Sometimes they’re more than just “mommy visions.” Sometimes that worry you can’t shake, the what-ifs and the fears are more than normal motherhood stress. Sometimes not being able to get through the day without yelling at anyone doesn’t just mean you need to work on your temper.

If this is what you’re feeling, know that you’re not a terrible mother, either. Please, make an appointment with your doctor.

You’re not failing at motherhood.

You might actually be sick.

You can get help. You can get better.

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Help Us Fight Postpartum Depression & Anxiety With Your iPhone
Postpartum Anxiety & Depression

Help Us Fight Postpartum Depression & Anxiety With Your iPhone

by Jill
written by Jill

Hey! Real quick, listen up.

Are you a mother? 

Do you have an iPhone? 

Have you ever experienced symptoms of postpartum depression, anxiety, and/or psychosis? No official diagnosis needed. 

WE NEED YOU NOW. We need your help kicking PPD/A in the ass. YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE. 

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It will take you 15 minutes (and an iPhone) to be a part of the first large scale genetic study of postpartum mood disorders. HUGE DEAL. 

My friend Morgan wrote up this great overview at Buzzfeed. Give that a quick read while you’re downloading the PPD ACT app. 

You can also read the official announcement from Postpartum Progress here.

This was created with the help of Postpartum Progress, in partnership with some fantastic organizations AND Apple. That Apple. Can you even comprehend how amazing it is that we can help countless moms to come with a simple app in the palm of our hands?

I took the survey within the app yesterday. It was incredibly easy. I was chosen to send in my DNA for the study, which I also expect will be incredibly easy. I’ll keep you posted.

Okay, enough typing. I don’t want to take up anymore of your time. Please, please, please download the app, take the survey, and SPREAD THE WORD! The goal is to get 100,000 participants. Warrior Moms, ACTIVATE.

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We Are The Faces Of Postpartum Depression & Anxiety- The Viral Video

We Are The Faces Of Postpartum Depression & Anxiety- The Viral Video

by Jill
written by Jill

Perinatal mood and anxiety disorders affect 1 in 7 pregnant and new moms. We are strong, we are fighters, we are good moms, and we are here for you if you are struggling, too.

PostpartumProgress.org is proud to bring this video to moms around the world, with the help of Cotton Babies, to bring awareness to perinatal mood and anxiety disorders, and to let moms know they are not alone. And that they are still good moms, even if they are struggling.

Find more resources and tools at PostpartumProgress.org, and visit CottonBabies.com to support a company that supports all moms.

I could not be more proud of this video, or more humbled to have listened to these women tell their stories to my camera. This was a labor of love, and my contribution to Postpartum Progress and the Warrior Mom community. I love you all deeply.

Please, if you are struggling, reach out. Get help. You CAN get better.

Produced by Jill Krause – please send media inquiries to jill at babyrabies dot com

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BabiesCharitable

Because She Helped Me See This Was Something I Could Beat #PostpartumAnxiety

by Jill
written by Jill

I’m not a very religious person, but I believe in God, and I believe in God putting people in my life at times I need them most.

Katherine Stone came into my life in the summer of 2011, and I’m forever grateful. We briefly got to meet each other at Blogher ’11, and I was happy to help her spread the word for her non-profit Postpartum Progress’ fundraising and awareness campaign- Strong Start Day- this time last year.

I never spent much time on her website PostpartumProgress.com prior to that because, well, I didn’t have postpartum depression. So why would I need to?

And yet, as I perused through the information and helpful blog posts before sharing on Strong Start Day last year, and read about the signs of postpartum anxiety, I saw it staring back at me.

My life. My struggles. My battle with irritability, anxiety, and horrific intrusive thoughts in the year after having my 2nd baby, finally in black and white with a name.

In the month that followed, I broke down and got help for my postpartum anxiety, and I’ve been working to get better ever since.

So today is the second year and second Strong Start Day that I’m telling you all about Postpartum Progress and all the AMAZING work Katherine does with it.

She gave me the resources to recognize I was dealing with something concrete, something real, something I could beat. 

In turn, that gave me the power to share my struggles and journey with all of you. In the last year, I can’t count the number of emails, comments, and messages I’ve received from others who suddenly understood exactly what it was that was making their lives miserable. They finally saw postpartum anxiety in themselves, instead of just feeling like a failing mother.

And they got help, too. 

All because of Postpartum Progress, Katherine and her mission to spread this message – that all families have the right to a strong start.

Katherine is raising money for Postpartum Progress so she can continue to inform mothers, and those who support mothers, of the signs and symptoms of postpartum mental disorders, and give them hope and help to overcome it.

Please consider donating to Postpartum Progress, big or small. She has made a world of difference in my life, and I know there are countless other mothers still out there who can be helped by her and the Postpartum Progress mission.

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BabiesPopular PostsThe Story

I Knew I Needed Help When… #PostpartumAnxiety

by Jill
written by Jill

I’ve had some time since I last told you all about my postpartum anxiety diagnosis. I’ve been on medication (Zoloft, for those wondering) for over a month now.

I’ve been trying to write this blog post for a long time. It’s just not an easy one to type out. Sometimes just thinking about the anxiety brings it back a bit.

But yesterday Postpartum Progress published this post: 70 Postpartum Depression Survivors: I Knew I Was Getting Better When… and I could relate with so many of those feelings. While I don’t think I’m completely “better” just yet, I know that I’m improving and just looking back makes me realize how far I’ve come. Which is sort of scary because a couple months ago I was convinced there was nothing really wrong with me, and I’m really glad it was something relatively benign that made me reach out for help. Though, at the time, it was incredibly frightening in my head.

Things Got Worse Before They Got Better:

As the baby weight started to come off this time around, I began to notice a weird ridge of what seemed like cellulite on the front of my left thigh. It’s really not that big at all. It’s just I have chicken legs, so any sort of pocket of fat really stands out. I have a cluster of cellulite that I’ve had since I was 16 on the back of my right leg, and this looked similar. For a few weeks, I would see it in the bathroom mirror and think it looked odd, but then I brushed it off.

The weekend I went to L.A. at the end of October, I suddenly went from being blase about it to convincing myself it was cancer. And not just cancer, but stage 4 cancer that’s probably metastasized and is rapidly killing me. I rubbed the spot where the fat rested, over and over feeling for a mass, so much that I bruised myself. But then I couldn’t tell if I caused that bruise or the cancer caused the bruise.

Prior to this, for months, I let my mind focus on worrying about death and illness. I was perpetually convinced someone I love or I would get cancer and die. I remember having a similar episode after Kendall turned 1. A clogged milk duct sent me spiraling, crying in a GYN’s office, convinced I had breast cancer.

The rational in my mind? That my life was going TOO good. I have too many blessings. I’ve had too easy a road. Something bad was bound to happen to me. It’s just a matter of time.

So, back to the lump of fat on my leg. When I got back from L.A. the anxiety only got worse. By the time Tuesday rolled around (3 days later), I walked into a doctor’s office that’s near my son’s school after I dropped him off. I was happy I hadn’t got into an accident driving him to school because my heart was racing and I thought I might pass out. I made an appointment to have the lump of fat looked at. I was going to beg them to biopsy it. They couldn’t get me in until Friday.

A few hours later, I felt like I was having a stroke. My arms were tingling, my tongue was numb. I was dizzy, my heart was pounding through my chest. Oh my God? Was this a sign the cancer had spread to my heart or lungs??

Anxiety breeds anxiety. I was on a roller coaster I could not get off.

I called the doctor back and begged for them to get me in sooner.

When I went in the next day, I could barely sign in, my hands were shaking so bad.

“What are you here for?” the doctor asked.

“Well, I have this lump… and it’s probably just fat, but it’s scaring me, and I felt like I had a stroke yesterday, but obviously I’m fine… and, well, honestly? I think my problem is anxiety,” I fired all that off in about .2 seconds.

He took a look at my leg.

“Uh, well, that just looks like…. cellulite?” I could tell he was trying to put it delicately that I have a lump of fat on my leg.

“Oh, that’s okay! That’s GOOD! I’d much rather have cellulite than cancer!” I nervously laughed.

That was when we got into the anxiety thing. I won’t re-hash everything we talked about, but I’ll say I was floored when he so quickly diagnosed me and offered up a prescription for anti-depressants.

But I wasn’t depressed??

Surely he didn’t know what he’s talking about. I thought he would tell me to get more exercise, more sleep, to work through this with a better diet. Meds? He thinks I need medication? I’m not THAT bad, I thought.

So I didn’t fill the prescription that day. No, I am *not* the type who needs to be medicated. That is just silly. I will get through this on my own.

Scott works from home Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, the same days Kendall goes to school. Mondays and Fridays had been a struggle for me for the last few months leading up to my diagnosis. I have both kids to take care of and no help. I know, cue the world’s smallest violin. Stay At Home Mom has to care for 2 kids by herself 2 days a week. It’s a rough life.

But for me, with all of this going on, that truly was an enormous task. I dreaded Mondays and Fridays.

On that Friday after the anxiety attack and diagnosis, we had a particularly rough day. I don’t remember why I was so on edge, but I spent most of the day yelling, pacing, stressing, and beating myself up. Kendall went to timeout more times than I can count.

At a point in the afternoon, when I was rocking Leyna to sleep for her nap, shortly before Scott was supposed to get home, I had a conversation with myself that I will never forget. And it was a life changer.

And it takes a fucking ton of courage for me to type this and let you all in on this. It’s a big reason why it’s taken me so long to publish this post. Please offer me some grace and understanding.

As I rocked my baby, I looked at her and I reflected on how stressed and angry I was… with everyone…. for everything. And I thought, “Jill, if you don’t get help, you’ll be one of those moms on the news one day. You’ll snap. Maybe not today or next month, but this is a bad road you’re on, and you can’t get yourself off without help.”

When Scott walked in the door from work, I looked at him with tears in my eyes and told him I needed him to watch the kids because I needed to run an errand.

“Just a minute. I need to do something first,” he said.

“NO. WHEN I SAY I NEED TO GET AWAY FROM HERE, I MEAN RIGHT NOW. RIGHT. NOW. NOT IN 5 MINUTES. RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.” I shouted.

Then I grabbed my keys, and drove to Walgreens. I picked up a bottle of Zoloft.

Yes, as it turns out, I am the “type” who needs it.

I Knew I Was Getting Better When…

I’m not going to lead you all to believe that I took some magic pills and suddenly everything was rainbows and kittens. I’ve had good days, and I’ve had really bad days.

Right after I started the Zoloft, there were some very, very bad days that made me want to give up taking medication altogether. But, the doctor and others had warned me that that was how it would go, and to stick with it.

It took a couple weeks and a change in my dosage, but I’m finally at the point where I have more good days than bad.

Immediately after starting the meds, I noticed I suddenly had patience. I could sit there and let my 3 year old try to put on his own clothes and not get so annoyed at the 2.5 minutes it was taking him. I could laugh at the silly things he did instead of getting annoyed by their minor inconvenience. I started referring to my meds as my “patience pills.”

We went to the pumpkin patch the day after I started taking them, and I remember saying to Scott that I couldn’t remember the last time I had so much fun. I had a smile so big that whole day that my face hurt that night.

Possibly the biggest change for me, the one that hurts the most to notice, is the connection I have with Leyna now. After starting meds, she suddenly felt… real to me. I don’t know how else to describe that. She felt more warm, more alive, more a part of me. I wanted to hold her. I wasn’t just rocking her as a means to get her to sleep so I could have some silence. I rocked her to sleep and then rocked her some more, and I apologized to her while she slept in my arms.

“I am so sorry. You deserved such a better mother. You WILL have a better mother. I WILL be a better mother.”

Another difference? I’m now able to fully take a deep breath. I mean, not a ragged, quick, heart-pounding one. If that makes sense.

I’m still irritable at times. I still lose it on occasion, but I suspect that’s more to do with me being human and not a Fembot. I wake up most days with anxiety for no apparent reason, but then I take my pill and am usually good to go shortly after.

I hate that it took me so long to get help. I hate that I missed out on so much bonding with Leyna, and I know Kendall’s attitude and aggression are a direct correlation to the anxiety he was sensing from me, and how I reacted to him.

I don’t know how long it will take me to correct all that, but I know I owe it to both of them to get better. They deserve so much more than a mom who’s constantly yelling and counting down the minutes until bedtime.

To read more about my postpartum anxiety diagnosis, go here and here.

Go here for more info on living with postpartum depression.

 

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