Will it Be Better This Time?

I've had some mental illness in my life, but nothing compared to how horrible I felt after the birth of my first child.  I got hit hard with the baby blues at about 3 days post partum and it got much better after 3 weeks and then turned into more of a low-grade depression with acute anxiety symptoms that slowly got better over the course of about a year.  But those first three weeks were awful.

I've been reading "What am I Thinking?: Having a Baby After Post-Partum Depression."  I recommend this book!  But it's been making me remember just how bad it was.  Firstly let me say that it's a myth that those of us who have PPD want to hurt our babies.  We are actually terrified we WILL hurt our babies or our babies will get hurt, but we generally don't hurt them.

It wasn't just hard.  I felt like I could NOT do it.  I felt like I could not be a mother, ever. And yet here I was STUCK as a mother for the rest of my life.  I thought of all the things that could hurt my precious newborn and could not imagine that he would live through the week.  Cars would drive by our house and scare me because I was sure they were going to somehow crash into us.  I grabbed my husband and asked him over and over to promise me we would never hurt him.  I also told my husband that I COULDN'T DO THIS.

I wanted to die, I wanted to die so badly, but I loved my baby so much and I realised how much he depended on me, how bad his life would be without me, how big of a loss I would be to him and I felt trapped.  Trapped on Earth, so much wanting to leave but so much unable to ever leave it because I knew I could never do that to my child.

I never had love hurt that badly.  And I wondered if I would ever feel happy again, or if now that I was a mother, I was ruined forever, always to feel depressed and anxious, never getting relief until the day I died.  I couldn't handle anyone talking the slightest bit negatively about any baby or child or any stories about childhood that were anything but 100% awesome.  Because anything less than perfect terrified me.  My brain took it to the next level.  The mention of me being put in an infant seat on a table made me see babies falling to their deaths from tables.  The thought of any baby getting hurt was too much for me to handle.  Don't those mothers feel what I feel?  I thought.  Why would anyone not protect their baby 100%?!  I couldn't handle it.  I became the most judgemental person in the world.  I loved my baby too much if anything, how could others abandon or hurt theirs?

I also couldn't make simple decisions.  I told my husband to bring me food.  I could not decide on which food to eat.  What to pack in the diaper bag seemed excruciatingly hard to figure out.  I had panic attacks over being out of the house without the right stuff.

But I had to get out of the house, I was going insane staying in my house.  I needed to see the great outdoors, even though they frightened me.  So I went out and cried.  I cried at a baby shower, I cried at Target, I cried in the car a lot.  I couldn't not respond to my infant, we pulled the car over once to nurse him because I was freaking out and couldn't handle him having to wait 5 mins.  I was ultra responsive.  I couldn't understand how anyone could leave their baby to cry for even 10 seconds.  I couldn't be out of sight of him either without crying.  And I couldn't sleep without him being right next to me (this lasted for the whole year actually).  I couldn't imagine being able to handle a cold or mastitis or an ear infection.  It was hard enough with a happy, healthy baby, how would I ever cope if he got sick?

I had a deep primal need to be with him and care for him, something I think was actually a very good thing.  And I'm glad I gave in to the instinct.  I think the reason we did so well overall is that I was holding him all the time and nursing all the time, he was very well cared for, he thrived, even though his mom was not.  I also say that he was a pretty easy baby those first couple months, I never wasn't able to calm him for the most part (except for the over-active let down I had to deal with).

Breastfeeding was a great comfort for me.  It calmed me down, it released great hormones, it was almost as good as an anti-anxiety med.  I had a strong reaction to it in the first couple weeks, it was hard to stay awake while nursing.

It slowly got better.  The hormones slowly got back into place.  I ended up with worse PMS then I had before, maybe a relic to the post partum period.

So will it be better this time?  I have hope it will.  For one, I know I can get through it.  I also know what to expect.  I know that I possibly won't feel like myself for about a year.  There are less unknowns this time.  I quit my job at 5 months post partum last time, I think partially because I was having PPD.  Interviewing while post partum felt so strange.  This time I have every intention of staying with the job I have now, which is part time.  I also had a really hard time calling anyone last time, and was very sad no one called me (I actually thought it showed what a horrible person and friend I was).  This time I'm going to try my best to call people when I need them.

But I also will have two kids this time.  And this baby could be more fussy.  This baby could be ill more.  Something outside of my control could be worse.  And my two year old is who I worry about the most.  How will he handle a mom who cries randomly?  Will I scare him?  Will I be unable to meet his needs?  Will I even be able to supervise him properly?  Will he try to hurt the baby?  How will I react to that?

And the other part is, will others understand?  Will others get why I'm not letting them hold my baby for very long?  Will they understand why I'm so irritable and not fun?  Will they even like me after seeing me in my post partum state?

I also have to throw in there how amazing my husband was through all of this last time.  He never reacted badly to my moodiness, he gave me unwavering reassurance.  He was my rock.  He did what I told him to do.  He took care of me.  I knew I could put our baby in his arms and go hide in the bathroom for 10 mins and everything would be fine.  He never once told me to get over it.  He held me while I sobbed about how horrible the entire world was.  I'm not sure I would be here today without him.  I told him, only half joking, that he had two babies to care for right now.  I really believe I needed almost that level of care to get through it.

I'm so glad I allowed myself to be needy and demanding, I think it helped me greatly.  I hated it, I have an independent streak, at least this time I know I REALLY need help.  Not enough attention is given to the post partum period.  It was hard to walk for a couple weeks.  My body didn't feel normal for about 6 months and then only somewhat normal.  I really felt I couldn't drive for about 3 weeks.  The physical stuff alone is enough to require care for a good month with a normal vaginal birth.  I plan on trying to stay in bed for a good week this time, and only go on short trips or do easy chores for the first three weeks.  I'm going to try to feel better about doing less, and try to enjoy it.

I fully expect to get PPD again, but I think I'm better prepared this time around.  Maybe it will be better.