What I would have liked to know about my trip through postpartum depression

"What if I do not want it?" I cried and pleaded with my husband when, at 39 weeks of pregnancy, I panicked to have a baby that I was not sure I wanted. My husband took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes and said, "Your mother is going to take her." It's good. "

We had planned for this baby, got pregnant quickly and had a relatively easy pregnancy.I had decorated the nursery, took all the equipment and planned to take a year off to stay in home with the baby, but there was something that terrified me to give up my life for the next 18 years, and that feeling of terror and loss of control was not new to me. [19659002]

When I was 21 years old, I had a nervous breakdown during my studies abroad. After months of loneliness in a foreign land, the latent demons in my mind raised their ugly heads, until thoughts of self harm make me useless, trapped in my apartment. My sister brought me home, and three months, many visits to a psychiatrist, and a prescription for Prozac later, I was on my way to healing.

Seven years later, I stopped Prozac. a baby, under the direction of my psychiatrist. This should not have been a surprise when my feelings for the baby were less than the pink and flaky feelings that future parents would feel . Instead, I felt numb and frightened by the change that was going to take place.

After giving birth, all I wanted was that she was taken to the nursery so I could go to sleep. Later, when we got home, I struggled because our lives were taken care of by a 7-pound newborn who was refusing a bottle and who, like on wheels, was screaming all the days around 19h. until one o'clock in the morning, she was finally going to fall asleep.

Let me be clear: I loved my daughter from the beginning; I did not like being a mother. When I took her in her crib in the morning and she was looking at me with her big blue eyes and that toothless smile, I thought to myself, "It's a good thing you're so cute." 19659002]

In my way, I tried to regain control. I have restricted my diet and have started to train in an obsessive way. I ate nothing but a glbad of soy milk, handed the baby to my husband as soon as he walked in the door and went to the gym. In an unconscious way, I felt that if I could control my body, maybe my life would feel under control again.

I also strove for perfection in an "acceptable" way. I pledged to badfeed only my daughter, mashing her by hand and taking her to baby sign language clbades. I thought that succeeding in these areas would satisfy me and make me feel better. They do not have it.

My demons came out in other ways. My marriage suffered, and my husband bore the brunt of my anger. Our relationship had been calm before the arrival of our daughter, but everything changed. I compared myself to a Medusa, where each of her evil heads shouted at my husband. In one way or another, I felt that if he could do more, I would feel better. But he could not do more – he was working full time and was already doing everything he could, waking up with me for every meal, carrying it in the Bjorn during the conference calls, and taking it to me when his screams night shouting became impossible to bear. But it was not enough: I needed to feel the depth of my despair, and he simply could not.

What I did not know at the time was that my anxiety and depression, badociated with all the hormonal changes that occur during and after pregnancy, with a lack of sleep and a lifetime totally new that was led by someone other than myself, had wreaked havoc on my mental state.

It was only when I started seeing a therapist regularly that I realized how much I had been depressed. When I became pregnant with my second child, a boy, I knew that weekly therapy was a must, and that regular exercise and a routine would allow me to feel a little in control and maintain my mental balance.

Years later, my husband and I have two children, who at ages 10 and 8 are perfectly flawed. They fight, they refuse to brush their teeth, and they give the best hugs. Sometimes I find myself looking at them and asking myself, "Should I have another baby?" Because maybe this time, knowing what I know about my sanity, I would do it right [19659002] ]

I was preparing for postpartum depression, and I had the tools to make my way through it, and I immediately felt those mellow feelings, as I had to do . I read blogs and watched videos of women fighting against PPD, and I knew what to expect and how to cope. I will not stop working because I now know that work is something I need to feel effective and whole. And I would know that and not doing it properly is part of the whole experience. None of us do it properly. But because of what we know now, and because of the internet, we can do it together, and not feel so alone in our feelings of failure and hopelessness.

A friend of mine just has a baby. She sent me a text message and said, "I am deep in bliss." I would have liked to feel that when my babies were born, but I did not do it. And it's OK. With the help of professionals in mental health, medicine and a constant balance between work and personal life, I feel very happy now.