If you've had a baby, you know. If you've had a baby and don't know, consider yourself lucky.
I've got a loving husband that looks adorable in his manure-stained overalls and I'm holding a healthy baby boy that has my big brown eyes and the sweetest cheeks. Why am I sad? Why do I feel like everything in my life is sitting on my shoulders and if I mess up, everything is over?
I didn't know what post-partum depression was. I hadn't heard the statistics of how many women suffer with it. The only thing I knew was that I needed to hide it. If I didn't hide it, I would look selfish during such a sweet season as this.
The mental shift that your brain takes with the changing hormones and exhaustion is scary. I would put on a mask for family dinners. I would put on a mask for lunches with friends. Until one day I sat on the side of my bed. I was lost. I was broken. I had no idea why.
I had lunch plans with a friend. I was going to share with her that I was struggling. That I think that I needed help. She texted me that morning and had to cancel due to a meeting at her work. In my mind, I took it as a sign from God that I was being dramatic and that nothing was actually wrong with me.
The next day, my sister called me. She could tell in my voice that I wasn't okay. I remember choking back the tears trying to act like I was fine and that she was wrong... that I was doing just fine. She continued to question me until I broke down. Like ugly crying. The kind of crying that you can't control. I finally admitted that I was not well. She became the life raft that I needed. She made me talk. She made me get outside. She made me feel heard and loved.
Now don't get me wrong, my husband had been there the whole time. But husbands don't understand the hormonal shift. Husbands don't see the crying in the middle of the night as I sit and stare at my newborn, fearing that they are no long breathing. Husbands don't see my putting my hand on our child's stomach multiple times a night, so I can feel his breathing. The silent struggle is the worst.
I remember being at a follow-up appointment with my primary care physician. You probably get asked the same questions about depression, that I did, when you first meet with your nurse. Ask she asked those questions, I felt a feeling of relief, honestly, because I finally was hearing that other women have had the same thoughts, feelings and emotions. They wouldn't just ask me these questions, other women were getting asked them too. The messy season I was in was normal. My doctor recommended that I start on a medication to help my hormones and depression. I won't lie, I felt embarrassed at first at the fact that I couldn't just be happy in my day to day life and that I needed the help of a medication to act normal. Within a few weeks, I no longer cared about what others thought because I felt a light in my life that I hadn't had in a long time. My shoulders no longer felt heavy. I was willing to go out and be with friends. So many "normal" things had come back in my life.
After tons of tears, prayer, friendships, Vitamin D and medication, I survived my first postpartum experience. Now don't get me wrong, it wasn't all sunshine and butterflies. I still had rough days or even rough weeks, but I was aware and I wasn't ashamed to voice my struggle with friends.
Fast forward three years, I was pregnant with our second child, a girl. I only made it twenty weeks before getting put on bedrest. She wasn't connected correctly to my placenta, and my body was dilating way too soon. I wasn't really sad about this. I got to spend so many extra weeks spending time with my sweet boy, whose world was about to be flipped upside down gaining a baby sister, I was able to listen to hundreds of podcasts about preparing for postpartum depression and my prayer life was stronger than ever. I thought I was prepared.
This round of postpartum struggles came in the form of not feeling connected to my new baby girl. I loved her, I know I did, but I felt irritated at her changing the bond that I had with my little boy. My husband now had another person to focus his attention on, rather than me. It took a long time for me to admit that. I went about two months until finally, I was lying in bed, both my babies asleep and I just looked at them. As clear as day, I heard God speak to me in our old farmhouse, located in the middle of nowhere. I don't think I've ever been so sure about God's voice. I vividly remember him saying, "I've given you both."
I instantly remember sobbing. I could not believe that I had wasted the first two months of my daughter's life blaming her for the changes she had created for my family. I picked her up and instantly started thanking God for her. I thanked Him for her health. I thanked him for the pregnancy in itself. I thanked him for giving her to me. That was not the postpartum experience I was prepping myself for.
I was quickly reminded by a friend that the devil will creep into any crevice of doubt that he can see. When you feel prepared, he will cut corners to pull the rug out from under you. When you feel like you're doing a good job, he will fill your mind with thoughts of doubt, fear, anxiety and guilt. He is there to steal your joy. He is there to steal your peace.
The trenches are deep. The trenches are lonely. The trenches are scary. Don't be in the trenches alone. Ask for help. Ask for prayer. Ask for someone to sit in your living room with you. The trenches aren't only during postpartum but can be through so many different seasons in a person's life. Maybe you don't have a relationship with your siblings, and you yearn for that connection. Maybe you lost a child, entirely too soon. Maybe you feel stuck in a career but are scared to make a change. You do not have to be in the trenches alone.
Ask. Ask. Ask. It's much easier said than done from the outside looking in, but let someone in. Let someone hear your worries, doubts, fears and anxious thoughts. Pray. Pray. Pray. Pray that God will give you peace that only He can provide. Pray that God will give you clarity that you are the perfect mom for that perfect baby. Pray that your struggling marriage will strengthen. Pray that God will heal that family member, completely, regardless of poor prognosis they received from the doctor.
Now I am 2.5 years postpartum. Is that even a thing? I still take two small pills each day to help me stay out of the trenches, but I can easily recognize when I'm feeling off and I now have a support team of friends that I can text for prayer, advice and a sushi night.
Don't let that mental shift win. Let that mental shift change you into a stronger mama, sister, friend, wife, aunt, nana, etc. You deserve to claim victory over the mental shift.
