The Reality of Postpartum

In July 2021, my husband and I welcomed a beautiful little boy named Michael. We were so thrilled to finally meet him and begin our journey as parents. We read the What to Expect books, took breastfeeding classes, and listened to all the advice everyone was eager to share. What we weren't prepared for was a colicky baby who hardly slept. A simple video at the hospital explained "purple crying," and we were sent on our way. We quickly learned that life was about to turn upside down. 

I quickly felt the onset of postpartum depression within a matter of days once my son was born. How did I realize it was postpartum depression and not baby blues? Easily, I quickly felt myself spiraling downwards and saw no joy. There were so many times I would cry holding my son. I found myself wondering if I was cut out to be a mom. Would I be the mom he deserved? Why was I unable to breastfeed? Would pumping take away from bonding with him? What if I was doing everything wrong? Little did I know it would take close to 18 months before I saw the end of it.

Thankfully, I was proactive right away. I texted my husband, saying, "I need help, mentally." That afternoon I was able to see my PCM, who was very supportive and gave me a prescription for Zoloft and a referral for a therapist. Initially I felt guilty needing medication to function. I felt like there was no reason I should be so depressed; I finally had the family I had been dreaming of. Thankfully, I was able to swallow my pride in order to take care of myself to be the mother I wanted to be. With the help of my husband and my parents in town, I was able to float by the first month. Unfortunately, reality kicked in when family left, and my husband returned to work. I was drowning; Michael at times felt like his colic was getting worse, and I felt like a zombie from the lack of sleep every day. 

For all that I could remember, I wanted to be a mom. The love I felt for Michael was overwhelming. I wanted to do everything in my power to make sure nothing would happen to him and he always felt loved. When Michael was two months old, my husband left for JRTC for a month, and there was a long period of no contact. The stress of my husband being gone, going back to online college full-time, pumping constantly, and a colicky baby hit me like a train.

I spent many nights crying while rocking Michael to sleep, wondering how I would be able to do this. I felt like I was failing him as a mother because no matter what I did, he cried all the time. During this time he had an episode so bad, I took him to the ER. I was convinced something was wrong; it had to be, right? After waiting for 8+ hours with Michael crying the majority of the time, I was told to try getting him to sleep more. We went home with both of us in tears and still no answers. After this, my mother flew down the following weekend to help for a few days, which was truly a blessing.

 During this month of parenting on my own, I fell into a deeper depression and had my first moments of realizing my family would be better off without me. Scary, right? It terrified me. I felt they needed someone who only felt the emotion of happiness. Which was the most unreasonable expectation, but it haunted me for months. After that I began seeing a therapist once a week, along with a psychiatrist to stabilize medication. During this time, things got worse before they got better. However, after a few months of weekly therapy, medication, and exercise, I started to see small progress. Even this small progress allowed me to enjoy moments with my husband and Michael. The small moments allowed me to keep pushing forward. Despite not always wanting to, I made sure to show up for myself and my family every day. Was it easy? No, it was the hardest thing I have ever done.

Once during a therapy session when I felt my lowest, my therapist asked, "How are you doing this? Many people who feel the way you feel often can only complete the bare minimum each day, yet here you are showing up for others despite how you feel." The answer was easy: I loved my son and husband more than I loved myself. Even if I spent most of the day crying, I was going to show up for them. I was going to do everything that I could to make sure they felt loved. I never wanted them to question the love I had for them. That was enough to motivate me to show up for them even if I felt like I couldn't show up for myself. 

Even though I felt lost, I also felt that I had found my purpose in life. In my heart I knew my purpose was to be the best mom and wife I could be. Over the years I learned that it was okay to feel that this was my sole purpose. I don't feel like I am meant to be a career woman; I truly feel like I am meant to do exactly what I am doing now. I have never been shy about my challenges in motherhood, and I have always appreciated those who have been honest about their journey. Today, I feel like it is my turn to share my journey so far with the hopes of helping other moms not feel alone. You won't find me complaining about some of the not so fun challenges in motherhood, but you will find me sharing raw emotions that many often choose to ignore. Why? I want to help normalize the emotions of motherhood while also embracing the beauty of it. 

The first few months of motherhood rocked me. Today, though, I am thankful for the hard start. It has given me the chance to share the challenges with many, along with allowing me to be grateful for the good times now.

I hope that if you are in the shoes I was once in now, you understand that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I will keep it real and say that it won't always be easy, but it will be worth it.

If you have read this far, thank you! I look forward to sharing more of my journey with the hopes of helping others.