To be continued...continued: My PPD Journey

Here's a post that I've had sitting in the queue as a draft since November 2013. I wrote it knowing that I needed help, which you'll see, but at the time I thought I just needed to process the birth experience and the weeks immediately following it. I didn't know yet how deep those scars had gone.

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Getting Help 11/14/13, 10am It's been 8 1/2 months since Owen was born. And just now, for the first time, I picked up the phone and called a therapist. I have stress sweat just from leaving a message. And I'm in the land of therapy...everyone I know has a therapist and still there is a stigma attached in my brain. I've never asked for help like this before. I've always powered through. And it's taken me the better part of a year to finally make this call.  How many women don't make the call? After Owen was born, I couldn't stop crying. And yet at the same time, I felt completely numb. Where was the bliss I was supposed to feel after becoming a mom? Where was the overwhelming love? In retrospect, I get it. I experienced a physical trauma that my mind and body needed to heal from. Pushing for seven hours and ending up with a c-section anyway was not the way I had envisioned any of this going down. I was on no sleep and there was no sleep in sight. I had had major abdominal surgery and I'm allergic to most painkillers. The ones they could give me made me feel worse so I stuck with Tyenol. TYENOL ONLY AFTER SURGERY.  Can you imagine? All while trying to nurse and care for a new person. I couldn't care for myself. Who was I to expect that I could care for him? But this is all retrospect. In the moment, I felt guilt, anger, fear, pain, anxiety...the list goes on. And now, 8 1/2 months later, I still feel residual guilt and waves of sadness that come out of seemingly nowhere. So I'm finally getting help so that I can get past this.  Because for the most part now, I love being Owen's mom. And one day I'd like to give him a sibling. But there is no way I can even think about it until I address the scars I acquired when I brought him into the world. One of the most frustrating things about dealing with the aftershocks of childbirth has been the lack of support I've been able to find. I called my obgyn to see if she recommended any therapists that specialize in postpartum issues. Her nurse called me back and said I had to call the number on my insurance card. Well no shit. I'd already done research online through my insurance provider. Eleven pages came up with psychologists that are covered. Eleven. It'd be nice to have that list narrowed down a bit, especially since it's difficult to find reviews or personal websites for any of these therapists. A month or so ago, I finally felt strong enough to read Brooke Shields' book Down Came the Rain about her struggle with postpartum depression. I had definitely heard of it but the idea of reading about anyone else's experience just seemed to depress me more. But it'd been half a year since Owen came along, so I felt like I could read it objectively. But you know what? I checked it out from the library and scurried around like a little mouse, afraid someone might see me looking for it. And when I couldn't find it, I finally asked the librarian and she took me to where it was, picked it up and read the subtitle aloud. My embarrassment was then off the charts. I had O in his stroller so I clearly was getting this book for myself. She then asked me if I had heard of a postpartum support group that a friend of her's had started in LA. I looked up the name of it when I got home but can't remember it now. Reading Brooke's book made me realize that I should talk to someone. I was reading passages aloud to my husband because it felt like I could have written it myself. I had such similar experiences and emotions and I finally realized that I wasn't alone. That I shouldn't be so ashamed. And that I couldn't just push those experiences out of my mind because I was feeling better now. They keep bubbling up unexpectedly and I need to learn how to cope with them.

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I wrote in my last post that the story of my postpartum depression and experience was "to be continued." I'm planning on sharing bits of my book here as I continue to work on it because:

1. I'm at a standstill. I have a bunch written and I'm not sure where to go from here. I probably need an editor to steer me in the write right direction. But lacking that, I figured I could start sharing here and maybe find a shape.

2. I don't want me being stuck to hinder the whole purpose of writing this book which is:
I want the line of communication to be opened. Even if just little pieces of it resonate with you - whether you're going through it now or you went through something similar in your own journey or you know someone who faced struggles - I just want women to know you're not alone. There are such beautiful pieces going around now that are helping to open up the dialogue on the realities of motherhood. And I'm ready to share what I went through.

So this is going to continue "to be continued..."

Until next time...