Post-Partum Depression Requires Treatment

One morning, I completely fell apart. I told my husband I wanted to die and he rushed me to the emergency room. I was prescribed an antidepressant and things immediately started improving.

I was suffering from major postpartum depression, which in my experience was like living in a completely different world from everyone I loved. I could see them laughing and smiling, but I couldn’t participate despite how hard I tried. I felt cut off, cut out, and on the verge of being discarded. I was completely convinced that I would keel over at any moment.

Still, I was very much a part of my son’s life. I played with him, breastfed, cleaned house, walked my dog, exercised, ate healthy, and generally attempted to enjoy life.

My moods oscillated between nervous trepidation and complete despair. My friends noticed that I was very sensitive and didn’t laugh the way I used to, but just assumed it came with the territory of new motherhood. My family noticed that I had lost my confidence, but couldn’t decipher any real problem.

It started almost immediately after giving birth. I was wholly unprepared to be a mom; totally unprepared for the overwhelming feeling of love and joy my son would bring me. Unfortunately, he suffered from colic, which despite everything I tried continued until he was four months old. Then, at four months, he stopped sleeping. My husband and I would manage two hours of sporadic sleep throughout the day. It was sheer torture. After a month of this I had lost myself. My husband said I would wander around the house mumbling under my breath.

We finally decided to hire a pediatric sleep specialist. She was a godsend. At six months, he would take two solid naps and sleep 10-12 hours a night. I finally had the opportunity to sleep. We thought things would improve for me too.

I slept better, certainly, but not well. My son still cried occasionally, like any normal baby, but to me it was agonizing. His occasional fits would cause me to breakdown. I would sob and shake until he stopped crying. We went on like this for two more months.

After eight months of this I’d become a different person. My son was healthy, happy, and sleeping well, but I couldn’t see it. I had somehow convinced myself that he wasn’t doing well, and that it was my fault. I had convinced myself that he had suffered from colic and sleep issues because of me, and that if he’d had a better mother he would have been happy and healthy from the very beginning.

And so, that one morning (described above), my husband took me to the ER and I got help.

Things have continued to improve. I’ve read hopeful and helpful stories on coming back from postpartum depression. My therapist cleared me a few months ago, and I see a psychiatrist every two months. I admit I was afraid taking antidepressants would make things worse, but it has truly helped. I never expected treatment to be this rewarding. Life is completely wonderful and I have the tools and support to enjoy it with my family. Getting help was the best thing I could have done.

My hope in writing this is that it encourages you, or someone you know, to get the help they need. No one should have to be afraid of treatment. Always consult your family physician when seeking any kind of medical care. The most important thing to remember with postpartum depression is that your well being is essential to the health of your child. Your baby needs you, everything else is secondary.

Howard County Library System has loads of books on parenting and mental health. I personally loved Pamela Druckerman’s Bringing up Bebe : One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting.

Brenna Godsey is a Customer Service Specialist at Central Branch. She lives in Columbia and is a proud mother of one boy and a golden-doodle. She enjoys reading, napping, and playing with her growing family.

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