Yes, I said it. The ugly "d" word that Christians don't often talk about, the "d" word which some would call a sin, lack of self control, or just plain selfishness. While I agree that some are just struggling with sin and labeling it as depression, I do believe that there are completely sinless forms of depression, those caused by faulty wiring in the brain or a hormonal imbalance for example. And then there's postpartum depression. When did it become such a dirty thing, a term whispered through tears to only your closest of friends? As if creating a human life inside your own and pushing it out into this world isn't hard enough, you then have to sustain and care for that fragile, dependent life. And your hormones don't know what to do. They are torn between ending pregnancy, trying to get back to normal, and creating food for this little new life. According to the CDC, postpartum depression affects at least 11% of women (the study separated states, and one state was as high as 20%). So why isn't this being talked about?
When my first child was born, the instant she came into this world, a love so strong that I felt it physically, came to me instantly. In that moment, my life changed. I knew I would die for this tiny little human, that I would move mountains to care for this little girl. Every time I looked at her those first few weeks, tears would come to my eyes. I had never known such love existed. While expecting my second child, I understood that the birth could be different. I didn't expect the postpartum experience to be different. As my second little girl came into this world, I didn't feel a thing. Oh I cried and held her, kissed her and told her she was beautiful. But I was going through the motions and it all felt so fake. All I wanted to do was crawl in a hole, so embarrassed to admit to anyone that I didn't feel any bond to my own flesh and blood. Exhaustion, tears, and hopelessness were my best friends. And the worst thing of it all: I felt alone and so, so guilty. Everyone kept saying that once you have your second child, the love just multiplies and you'll love your kids the same. So how was I to tell those people that my love wasn't multiplying? Oh, how I wish I'd had a friend come along side me during that time and tell me all of this was normal. That the bond, the love, would come in time. That it was normal to feel so sad, so guilty, and so helpless. So overwhelmed at caring for two little needy people. I praise the Lord that He saw me through those few months. I clung to my Jesus during that dark time, clung to the hope that He would carry me through. And He did.
Fast forward to today. I finally feel I am reaching the shallow water in the ocean that is postpartum depression. The past 7 weeks have felt like treading water with no shoreline in sight. But this time was very different than the last. As with my first, I once again felt that physical surge of love, joy, and raw emotion the instant I saw my baby's tiny face. A love so fierce that I literally felt it squeezing my heart and soul. But along with that unbreakable bond came overwhelming anxiety. A day after his birth, while in the hospital, I broke down sobbing, telling my husband I was terrified to go home. "How can I take care of four children this young? How can I be a good mother to my three toddlers while still being a good mother to my newborn?" . . . and I slowly saw the shoreline disappear. Besides the love I felt for my new baby, I had no emotions. No compassion, no patience, no happiness. Nothing could make me laugh, nothing could make me care. I wanted nothing more than to hold my baby and ignore every thing and every one. At one point, when my oldest asked me for more juice, I told her to leave me alone. (This was right before my husband told me to call my doctor.) Everything my toddlers did, bad or even good, made me angry. I just felt so overwhelmed. So very overwhelmed at caring for all these dependent, needy people. But again, the worst part of it all is feeling guilty for feeling and being this way, feeling alone, helpless and hopeless in this adventure that is motherhood. Only after talking to my doctor, being on Zoloft for 3 days before switching to a homeopathic alternative, and reaching out to friends and family who have been praying with me and for me, have I started to feel better. I still am not back to normal. Every day, I am overwhelmed by the needs of my four children. I have to work at loving my husband and my toddlers, and I have to work at giving soft answers that turn away wrath. I have to work at showing Jesus to my children while I am so desperately clinging to His feet. But there is hope. My Jesus knows my needs and provides. My mom has been here to help, my mother-in-law just arrived today, and friends have stepped up to the plate without being asked. God has placed people in my life for whom I am so grateful. He knows our needs and provides them!
So let's talk about it. Let's not shame other women into feeling like motherhood is a piece of cake by not talking about how hard it is. It's hard. And it's normal to be overwhelmed, and even to feel helpless and alone. But talk to someone, friends or family, and get help! Most importantly, cling to truth.
Philippians 4:8 states "whatever is true, . . . whatever is lovely, . . . think on these things." And Hebrews 13:5 quotes Jesus as saying "I will never leave you nor forsake you." He will never leave us. Even when I haven't showered for a week and I'm covered in puke, poop, and snot, and I'm sitting on the floor crying to Him that I can't make it through the day. He will never leave me. Praise His holy name!
