You can read Part 1, and 2 here
*Warning- talk of suicide*
I wouldn’t have imaged trying to find help would be so difficult. I was always led to believe that the hardest part is recognizing you need help and then telling someone. Speaking up, asking for help. No, trying to find that help turned out to be so much harder.
We spent days looking up therapists in our area who said on their website that they specialize in postpartum depression. We made countless calls, leaving as many voice mails as calls to never have a single one respond. It was two weeks leading up to Christmas but still I would have expected a response. Continue reading
You can read Part 1 here.
I wish I could say that I was brave enough to seek help but I didn’t. My husband, Trevor, knew I had Postpartum Depression but was clueless about the anxiety and the hallucinations I was experiencing.
I never knew how I was going to make it through the day let alone the next task. I felt like I was drowning. I was in the depth of despair and yet managed to fake it enough to have everyone fooled. Continue reading
I was done. I had 3 boys in under 3 years. I had them young. When my third was born I was only 22.
My hands were full. Busy was the only word I could use to describe my day but still it wasn’t adequate enough to describe the chaos of what I lovingly referred to as my “wild things”.
Even so I was a very intentional with my boys. I made sure I was on the ground playing with them, jumping on the tramp with them, watching a million eapisodes of whatever their favorite tv show was at the time. Continue reading
Something that’s not often talked about is grief. Grief isn’t just for when you lose someone you love. Grief comes for many other reasons. Most often in motherhood grief is talked about for those you’ve lost a baby, I’ve grieved through three miscarriages myself, or for those trying for a baby grieving something they want but have not yet had.
There’s another grief that isn’t spoken about. The grief of having a child you were not expecting. The grief of losing the life you had. Maybe your plans, sacrificing your body for 9 months then sharing it still to nourish the baby. The grieving of your personal space you’d just regained or perhaps never had to share before.
For me it was grieving so much more than that. Grieving my body that’s I’d just worked so hard to get healthy and fit again after the three previous children, grieving my mental health that I lost because of sever postpartum mood disorder and postpartum PTSD. Grieving because I am no longer the interactive mother I once was. Grieving because having this baby strained the relationships had with my other children. Grieving because of having postpartum mood disorder and feeling it was unfair the severity of it.
So often I feel like I have to keep this to myself to not hurt those wanting a baby but the truth is my grief and pain deserve to be heard and recognized as much as the next person.
It hurts when you tell me
“At least you could have a baby because so-n-so can’t and wants one so bad.”
That’s not fair to not validate what I feel. My voice deserves to equally be heard. I’m not alone in my grief. I’m just the one brave enough to speak up.
I hope that through speaking out and normalizing this form of grief that one day it will be met with the same understanding and respect as any other form of grief.
Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.— Oscar Wilde.
I’ve had this quote sitting in my drafts for 3 months knowing I wanted to use it. It is so powerful to me. Ive thought about it a lot lately. What does it mean to me? Why is it so powerful?
I’ve had a lot of unexpected life events as of late. Paths I never thought I’d have to go through. For example I never thought I’d go through postpartum psychosis. Continue reading