Casey

15 May Casey

My daughter’s birth was magical. It was that picture perfect moment you dream of when becoming a parent. I couldn’t wait to get her home and start our new life as a family of three. However, our first night home, everything changed. I could not sleep. The more I thought about trying to sleep, the harder it became. Every time I would close my eyes, my heart would begin racing to the point that I felt like I was having a heart attack. Constant worry for my new baby overwhelmed me. My mom assured me that she had felt this way too when she brought me home from the hospital and that I would be okay. I convinced myself it was just new mom jitters and that I would be fine once I adjusted. Throughout the first week of my daughter’s life I was obsessed with googling “chance of SIDS” and “how to prevent SIDS from occurring” and I was still not sleeping. One week after my daughter’s birth, I started googling my symptoms (insomnia, sweating, crying, loss of appetite, loss of interest in activities I used to enjoy) and a website for PPD/PPA support popped up. I immediately called the hotline and the woman I spoke to referred me to see my OBGYN. Thankfully, my OB’s office took my call very seriously and got me in that day. So my husband, one week old daughter and I loaded up in the car and went to see what help I could get. I felt so ashamed. This was supposed to be the “happiest time of my life” and it was anything but. I had never felt such a loss of control over my own thoughts. I kept being asked if I had thoughts of harming myself or the baby which made me feel even worse. The doctor started me on Zoloft but said that it could take several weeks to work and gave me some Ambien in the meantime to help with sleeping. At that point, my husband and I prayed for God to intervene. The next day we made the decision that we needed to be near family. We rented a U-Haul, loaded up essentials and moved in with my parents. Once again, not how I imagined life with my new baby. Once we were back with the support of family, I started to recover very quickly and felt like myself again within 3 weeks. Looking back on the pictures, I don’t remember the time as a sad, confusing time. All I can see is a perfect little family.

Fast forward to when I got pregnant with my son. I was sure that this time things would be different. I had the mom thing down. I knew what to expect. I LOVED being a mom. I LIVED for my daughter/soon to be son. I had stopped taking the Zoloft when we started trying to conceive and I was doing just fine. I had a stronger relationship with God. All of these reasons had me convinced that I was immune to this happening again. I mentioned to my OB that I had a history of PPD and she said she could start me on Zoloft immediately after delivery, just in case it happened again. We were all set.

The birth of my son did not go as well as my first delivery but still perfect nonetheless. Again, I was in love with a little miracle that I had created in my own body. And then we went home…. It was like déjà vu. That first night I was immediately plunged back into the same symptoms I had experienced before. Luckily, this time I knew exactly what was happening and called the next day to see my OB. She upped my dosage of Zoloft and sent me home. But I continued to decline. My family, friends and church were all there to support me but I just felt overwhelming sadness. I had no interest in eating and the lack of sleep just compounded my issues. A week after my son was born I was admitted back into the hospital so that they could give me different meds and monitor their effect. Finally, with enough Xanax and Ambien, I was able to sleep. The next day I was discharged, but again, in my own home, I continued to have panic attacks. I was positive something bad was going to happen to my baby. I felt guilt over not being able to give full attention to my daughter who was used to being the one and only. I was a mess. Again, we prayed for God to provide a solution. We met with our pastor. Our church family prayed and prayed. I finally decided to make an appointment with my family doctor. This was the BEST decision I could have made. He switched one of my medications and I went home that night and slept. From that day forward I only got better and better, and by the time my son was a month old I was back to my old self. Praise God!

And let me tell you that through all of this my husband was the BEST. Never once did he complain. He spent day after day going to appointment after appointment with me. He took care of the kids when I could not. I would not have made it through without his support. The same can be said for my mom. I have a great support system.

I tell you this story not to scare you but to make you aware that PPD is a TRUE medical condition. If you are experiencing this you cannot just “ride it out.” You NEED to seek help.

I also tell you this as a story of hope. I am still dreaming of a third baby and have switched OBGYNs to a practice that is more specialized in PPD care. Am I terrified? Yes! But I know that the end result is so worth it and I will get the help I need to pull through. Mama’s who are going through what I have been through – you will survive! I know it doesn’t seem like it but I am living proof! And you will be stronger because of it!

Edit: That portion of my story was written almost 4 years ago. I thought I was through it and my was story was wrapped up with a nice little bow. I thought my depression was only pregnancy related. I was wrong. It has come and gone since. Depression does not discriminate – it can happen to any one at any time. I remind myself that it is a medical condition and nothing to be ashamed of. I remind myself that if I had asthma, diabetes or any other medical issue that I would seek treatment. I remind myself that I am not a depressed person but simply someone living a very full life that sometimes suffers from depression