One of the first questions I get asked when someone learns I had postpartum psychosis is “what is it exactly?” With today being international postpartum psychosis awareness day I thought I’d dive into explaining what it is. If you would like to read about my experience you can read the blog series ‘what brought me here‘
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Have you, like myself, ever looked at your husband peacefully sleeping through the night while you’re up feeding the newborn? Of course, I’m sure you have. Did you feel that resentment boil up inside? Frustration, anger even, that once again you must feed the little one?
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I saw a picture on Facebook time hop this morning. It was of my youngest, the baby who triggered the postpartum psychosis.
For so long I thought God was crazy for sending Graysen along. I knew God saw the full picture but this time I did not want to come along willingly.
Back to the point, I saw this picture, it was of me kissing him and he had the biggest smile, the one that makes smile wrinkles even on a 7 month old. I could almost hear his baby giggle as I looked at the picture of me kissing him over and over.
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It is an interesting time we live in. To travel we had to show medical forms every step of the way. Even in Salt Lake City airport. It is not easy currently to leave the country, and I’m not really sure why someone would want to leave without a good reason. Every person traveling was asked why they were traveling.
Traveling was really hard on my body. The pressure change during take off and landing sent shooting pains through my head. Not being able to lay down for so many hours. My head was just too heavy to hold up anymore.
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I’ve wanted to write for so long. The words no longer flow from me. My mind is so confused all the time. Not able to think clearly, make sense of it. The surgeon says around day five post-op my thoughts should become more clear and I should begin to regain my focus again. I’m a former school nerd. I say former because it has been years since I’ve been able to sit and devour a book. My hope is I’ll regain my school nerd status once again.
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“There’s no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.”
– Jill Churchill
Mothers Day. It’s a day of reflection for me. It wasn’t always that way. Traumatic experiences seem to change us as a person. For worse, or the better.
As I reflected this year I just was surprised at how far I’ve come as a mother. Through every child I’ve been molded, I’m sure mothers everywhere can relate to that one.
Sometimes I just feel that words bubbling up. Needing to try and escape this cage. Sometimes it’s hard to find words for what I’m feeling and going through. But I have to try because I need to break the Silence.
There’s so much they don’t tell you about postpartum. I wish people prepared for postpartum like they do packing for the hospital. Continue reading
Much like listening to the same song over and over I feel like I can get stuck on repeat in recovery. Finding the same issue resurfacing again and again. It can hurt. It can be frustrating and it most definitely has made me feel defeated at times.
I’ve started to compare my mental recovery to healing from a surgery (appropriate, I know.) It’s really painful in the beginning than slowly the pain comes down as you do things to help it. After that as you heal from the outside people no longer think of your recovery but you still feel the incisions brushing against your clothing, irritated and sometimes painful but most definitely uncomfortable. Continue reading
I plan to keep this blog short… maybe.
Today marks 1 year since I was admitted to the mental hospital. I was 18 months PP and had lost all hope. I spent very difficult week in the hospital till I was put on a medication that stabilized me enough to be released into my husbands care. Continue reading
My brain’s in a fog. I’m not here at all. Yet I’m fully aware of me. Like everything is looking at me. I can’t talk, I’m dazed, and the wall I’ve stared at for who knows how long now has become a blur.
My gaze is slightly down. I’m not sure where in my thoughts are at. Its like my mind is racing and I’m not able to keep up with it. It makes me feel more crazy than I already am. Continue reading
Mother Hidden 