I got a call the other day from a friend who has a friend who is currently suffering with PPD. She asked me to get in touch with her friend and offer her some words of advice/comfort/insight. Last night, Daphne slept terribly, so I'm very tired. I made the mistake of writing this friend of a friend this morning because, due to my sleep-depravity-induced emotion, it became quite embarrassingly long-winded.
Who am I kidding? I'm always long-winded.
I put so much effort and heart into this letter to her that I felt the desire to put it into my blog for posterity's sake (or my sake). Names have been taken out to protect the innocent:
Hi, D*******.
I'm a friend of A*** G*****'s. She texted me the other day about getting in touch with you. She thought maybe I could be a valuable resource for you. I figure, there's always strength in numbers.
She mentioned you just had your 4th child (!!!) and that you may be struggling a little with PPD. She knows I am very open about my bouts with it, and asked if I'd get in touch with you. I had my 3rd daughter almost 5 months ago, and I think it is still lingering for me.
I don't know if I had it after my 1st was born. She had severe colic - the kind where the pediatrician often asked me how my marriage was since my baby was crying so often and so loud. A chiropractor fixed it when she was about 6 months old, but then we had months of horrid sleep-training ahead of us. Once she was on a good post-colic sleep schedule, though, she became an angel. She is now 6.5 years old and an amazing little girl.
My 2nd was born and my body seemed to go into a panic for no reason. She wasn't colicky, but even the slightest little baby cry from her sent me into a spiral of anxiety. When she was about 6 weeks old, I realized I was crying about 10 times a day and that something was wrong. I went to a friend who's a therapist for LDS Services, and she connected me with a therapist and my OB got me onto Prozac right away.
I cried for 45 minutes before I took that first pill. I felt weak; I felt like I was less of a person; I felt I should be "above" all of this.
The therapy and the medication worked wonders. But what helped even more was having the therapist tell me it was ok to let my baby cry a little in order to learn self-soothing skills. She told me that a lot of my PPD was from PTSD from having such a colicky baby. I was afraid of a baby crying because I felt so much guilt for letting my 1st cry at all once I had discovered she was actually in pain. It wasn't perfect, but once I got the ball rolling, my 2nd little girl became a wonderful sleeper, and at such a young age! Getting decent sleep coupled with an objective therapeutic perspective turned my world back around. It wasn't all lollipops and rainbows... but I was more able to taste lollipops and see rainbows when they were there.
Because of my first's colic, I had read every sleep book known to man. Some people thought I was obsessed. But I am very type A and like to control situations, and putting my young babies on a routine helped combat the anxiety.
Baby #3 comes along. To this day, despite all of my efforts and hard work to teach her otherwise, she is a terrible sleeper. I didn't go on medication this time. And we can't afford the therapy (last go-around, our ward covered the cost). I've had struggles... a LOT of struggles.
There will be days when I'm fine and then she wakes early from a nap, and my blood begins to boil, my stomach twists in knots, and I'm a blink away from sobbing. My PPD is very trigger-induced. I'm ok until certain things go awry.
I don't know much about what you're going through. But A*** seems to think maybe I could be a resource for you. I'm still in the midst of it, I fear, so I don't know how much "help" I can be. But it never hurts to feel like there are people out there who "get it."
Depression makes someone feel very lonely... because, unless someone's actually "been there," they really can't understand, can they? They can't understand how one can be totally fine one minute, and then feel like they wish they could just vanish from existence the next. They can't understand how one can sit there and hold and kiss and snuggle this baby they love so infinitely, but at the same time, wonder why they thought they wanted it in the first place.
I hope I am helping. And, who knows? Maybe we can help each other. After all, misery does love company. ;)
Please don't be afraid to respond and reach out to me. I can be a little abrasive and inappropriate and, sometimes, quite bitter and pessimistic. But I still know, deep in my gut, there's a purpose to why some of us have to go through this. I will not have any more children. I wanted 6. I have 3. It's more than I can handle, I fear. But having this trial has taught me to be less judgmental of others. Being a mom is HARD! And I now look at other moms with a silent respect - even if their child is running up and down the Church halls like a psychopath. I have no idea what they go through at home, so I've learned no to judge.
Right now, my relationship with God teeter-totters. But I know He knows I will never completely lose faith in Him. I know He knows that this is something that is just so gosh-danged hard for me. I know He knows when my breaking point will be. I feel like I've hit it multiple times, but apparently, I haven't, because I'm still being bent. I suppose I should take it as a compliment that He sees me as being able to withstand more pressure than I, myself, assumed I could.
One last thing: Depression lies. It tells you you're terrible. It tells you you're incapable. It tells you you're failing or weak or doing this motherhood thing all wrong. It tells you that when you let your little baby cry for 10 minutes in order to fall asleep on her own that you're abusive and that she's going to grow up hating you and her life will never be decent because she felt neglected at 3 months old.
But it's lying. And sometimes, when we're in the midst of being lied to, we can't see it for ourselves. It's like the bad high school boyfriend who's cheating on you and when you're best friend tells you, you're so deceived by him you end up being angry at the best friend instead of at him.
If you need someone tangible to reach out to that you know "gets it," I'm just a facebook message away...
Because I "get it." I get that, sometimes, when you're on your knees in the silence of your own tears, that the silence can be unbearable. So I can be as much noise as you want until His comfort finally breaks through that lonely silence.
Until then... you know where to find me.
