Postpartum Depression

Two hours after Rilla was born, my two nurses came in and told me it was time for me to get up. I still hadn't even held my baby yet, nor could I even feel my toes. I was tired and just wanted some rest. It was about 7 pm and I promised I would stand up by 4 am. Bright and early I had woken up to feed my baby and take some pain medication. I was aware of the time and my promise, but by the time 4:30 am rolled around, I found myself drained of all the energy I had mustered for this hurdle. The two young nurses came in and hurriedly explained how they wanted me to get up. My ears could hear them, but my brain wasn't processing their instructions and my body definitely wasn't responding. I felt hopeless and stupid. I just couldn't communicate what or how I was feeling. I remember one of the nurses "tenderly" sharing how she had had 3 c-sections and so she knew exactly how I was feeling. She then pleasantly told me how easy it was for her....

I remember looking at my husband across the room pleading for him to do something. He actually understood and came over to me. He helped me by practically lifting me off the bed and onto my feet. I immediately nestled my head into his chest as I sobbed. The pain was intense. I couldn't quite understand why the nurses had me get out of bed to the left, when the goal was for me to walk to the bathroom which was on the right...I just didn't know how to get my body around the bed and to the bathroom. My mind drifted back to high school when math teachers repeatedly drilled how the shortest distance between two points is a straight line and if that is true didn't my nurses know that they set me up for failure being that much farther from my desired target? All of these things running through my mind along with so much more...like why do these two nurses keep telling me how good they are, and will they just be quiet? Or, can I do this, 6 children, wow...or I am hungry, when did I last eat? Or, I have seen and held my baby once, and I don't feel any real connection and that is scaring me....So with all these thoughts and others running rampant I just cried and cried hiding my face in my husbands chest unable to speak, knowing the nurses were starting to worry I was losing it...and yet not caring what they were thinking about me. They let me lie back down realizing I wasn't going to take a step. I tried to rest a little but could not stop crying.

The DR on call came to see me a few hours later. As he came in he asked me how I was doing. I couldn't even speak. So, he assumed that I had a cold. I then burst out that I did not have a cold, but had been unable to stop crying. The pediatrician came in to give us an update on Rilla. He apologized for interrupting as he saw I was crying. My DR assured him he was not interrupting and invited him in. After the pediatricians 2 minute update he said a quick goodbye as he raced to the door. My DR looked quickly at me and then stated he had to go too. They both ran out of the room as fast as possible and I just kept crying. My logic knew I should get a grip but my hormones just didn't want to be logical. I was upset that my DR would just bail on me and a bit worried that the pediatrician would call social services or insist on a psych consult....

An hour or so later, breakfast arrived. I realized I hadn't eaten for over 24 hours since I had had the stomach flu the night before coming to the hospital. With some food in my tummy and a new nurse on duty (who is a friend of mine), I finally started feeling better. I felt like getting up and getting to the bathroom. I got my IV out! And, I made it up. My nurse and I were able to have a nice visit and laugh about my breakdown amidst 4 adults who had no idea how to deal with me. I was feeling good knowing that I wasn't in serious trouble because if I had been, the medical professionals in charge of me certainly hadn't done anything to help me.

So, while we laughed and I enjoyed visiting with a friend I started thinking about what if I had needed help...I know I have postpartum depression. I have learned how I need to deal with it. I know I need medication. Just knowing that it will be a problem, makes the craziness seem normal or at least able to endure until my hormones mellow out a bit. I realize that there are so many first time mothers who don't know what postpartum depression feels like and don't know how to ask for help or might not know they need help. Instead of having a surplus of lactation specialists who feel the need to convince even the mothers who already have committed to breastfeeding that breastfeeding is best...we should have postpartum specialists to listen to mothers' needs. Everyone worries about "baby" which is good, but we forget to worry about "mom" too. Even "mom's" DR is worried about "baby." But truly a baby is best when the mom is at her best.