It Happened to Me, Too. And I’m Still a Good Mom.
breastfeeding photos by Be True Baby
I sat in the rocking chair in my three-week-old son’s room and I just cried. I cried. I cried. I cried some more. It was this uncontrollable sadness that I felt within me and it just kept pouring out of me. I looked down at this precious boy that I was feeding and my heart was exploding outside of my chest because I felt so much love for this tiny person, but simultaneously, I felt completely unlike myself. It was almost as if I was hovering over myself having this out-of-body experience and looking down at someone I didn’t recognize.
I remember the week before, snapping at my husband and yelling at Lilly way too many times. I remember getting upset about things that didn’t really warrant getting upset over. I remember feeling angry and bitter over things like a dish being left in the sink or John forgetting my water when he came upstairs. I felt frustrated when Lilly wouldn’t leave me alone.
I was still in some pretty bad pain recovering from my second c-section and I didn’t want to see or hang out with anyone. I was going through the routine of the daily grind. Feed baby, change baby, get Lilly to school, go to Bible study, do some work, answer some emails, schedule a blog post, maybe eat dinner, maybe shower, maybe watch a show with John. It was routine, and it was [mostly] easy. I thought.
But I just wasn’t myself.
On the outside, I was totally doing fine. When I was out and about, I was smiling, I was laughing, I was posting cute pictures of my kids on social media. On the inside, I was slowly caving in on myself and I didn’t know how to stop it.
So I’d cry. And cry some more.
And sometimes I’d yell. And yell some more.
I was chalking a lot of it up to adjusting to life with two. I was chalking it up to the fact that Lilly wasn’t adjusting to life as a big sister like I thought she would. She clearly loved her brother, but the words, “Use kind and gentle hands,” were clearly words she didn’t understand. Well, she understood them, she just chose to ignore them.
I just wasn’t myself.
A few days later I was going through the drive-thru at Wendy’s because, yet again, I didn’t feel like making lunch. I was talking on the phone with my friend and she asked me a question she’s asked a million times: “How are you?”
I said, “I’m good! How are you?” With an obvious pep in my tone of voice, of course.
She, without hesitation and with all of the love and challenge in her voice said right back to me, “Lies. No you’re not. You’re not fine, are you?”
I instantly burst into tears and sobbed uncontrollably on the phone.
She kept saying over and over again, “It’s okay. It’s normal. You’re totally fine. It happened to me, too.”
We spent the next who-knows-how-long on the phone talking things through until I finally said it out loud…
“I have postpartum depression.”
It was both cathartic and utterly gut wrenching to say the words out loud. In fact, I felt this hot, uncomfortable feeling come over my chest just now as I wrote the words out. You know the feeling… the feeling when someone says to you, “We need to talk.” That feeling. The feeling of pure, unadulterated, discomfort.
It took a friend who loved me enough to call me out on my facade to help me realize that what I was feeling was a thing and it was time I faced it and dealt with it. Up until that moment, I’d spent weeks dealing with it on my own when I didn’t even know what I was really dealing with to begin with.
That night, after the kids were in bed, I sat on the couch with my husband and said, “I need to talk to you.” And after what felt like 436 years of beating around the bush, I came out with it and said, “I think I have postpartum depression and anxiety.” And he lovingly, but bluntly responded, “I know.”
Those words were a punch in the gut. He knew?! How could he know and not say something? What if….? But how…? I can’t even! I asked so many questions in my head but realized I was placing unnecessary blame on someone who loved me so much and knew I was hurting but just had no idea what to do or how to fix it. And the truth was, I had no idea what I WANTED from him anyway.
It’s not like this was familiar territory for us. I had no idea what to do.
After a lot of tears and hours of just hugging my husband and talking with him, I set an appointment with my midwife to talk to her. She knew me. She knew my history. She’d know what to do.
I remember filling out the “postpartum depression screening” form at my appointment and I couldn’t even finish it because I was crying so much trying to answer the questions. My midwife came in and through ugly tears, I remember asking, “I’m pretty sure these questions are completely ridiculous. Because I’m fairly certain anyone who is feeling the way I do can’t answer them anyway.”
She laughed a little and then she hugged me.
It helped a lot just talking with her and getting reassurance from her that this was, in fact, normal. That I was not, in fact, crazy. That I was, in fact, a good mom. That I was not, in fact, a terrible person. That there were, in fact, resources for me. Those little reassurances were the biggest help to me at that time.
We talked about some next steps. We talked about options. Personally, I didn’t want to start with medication. I struggled with some depression in middle school and medication was not good for me at that time. So we talked about some other options – therapy, exercise, a few essential oils that aid in emotional support, getting help and support around the house and with the kids, etc. She called in a prescription for me and said, “You don’t even have to fill this. It’s just there if you need it. Sometimes knowing it’s there is help enough…”
(Now, TRUST ME, this is not me bashing medication or faulting ANYONE for EVER EVER EVER using medication to cope with mental illness. And, by the way, that’s what this is. It’s mental illness. Medication is a blessing for so many people and you and your doctor know your situation best. You do you. Much love.)
I very much leaned on my husband and a dear friend during this time. I really told no one. In fact, some of my closest family and friends are finding out about my struggle with this through this blog post right now. (I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me… writing is often the best way I know how to really verbalize what I’m feeling and deal with something. I don’t even know that I’m ready to talk about it all that much yet.)
At the end of the day, some things worked. Some things did not. And even almost nine months later, I still don’t have all the answers. CLEARLY. I’m doing much, MUCH better than I was those first few months of Amos’s life. To be fully transparent, the depression is gone, but I still struggle with the anxiety. I often find myself snapping or yelling more than I should. I sometimes struggle coping with stress. There are days when I really feel like a terrible mom. There are days when I just want to scream. And other days are awesome. Other days I feel great and I laugh and smile and play with my kids and spend time with my husband and it’s the best.
But some days are hard. Really hard. And I just want to cry in a corner or never leave my bed.
I have learned a lot about myself these last few months and I’m continuing to learn as I go. At the end of the day, parenting really is just trial and error.
I know that I have made a lot of mistakes and I know that I’m not perfect. I have to constantly remind myself that it’s okay… that I AM loved, that I AM a good wife, that I AM a good mom, and it’s NOT ABOUT ME. It’s not about being the perfect wife or perfect mother, it’s about owning my struggles, facing them, dealing with them, and ultimately chasing after a perfect Savior.
I share this with you not looking for sympathy. I’m not trying to sound like a hero. I’m not looking for a solution. I’m not even saying that I’m completely on the other side of it. And I’m certainly not asking for advice.
I share this with you because not only is it therapeutic for me to write my experience and to articulate my story (even if I’m not doing it all that well), but also because I pray that maybe one of you needed to read it today to know you’re not alone. I share it because I now see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know it will get better. It’s better today than it was before. I want you to know that admitting I had / have postpartum depression and anxiety doesn’t mean I don’t love my kids and I don’t love being a mom. It doesn’t mean I don’t love my husband and I don’t love being a wife. Neither of those things could be further from the truth.
It just means it’s an illness and something I’m facing that I can and will overcome.
And mama, if you’re struggling with postpartum mood disorders… you can overcome it, too. You are a great mom. You are beautiful. You are loved. You can do this.
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We hope y’all are having an amazing week, and can’t wait to see the posts YOU love linked up below.
This week, we are loving:
/ watercolor dresses / pizza for president /
Thank you for being honest! I had some postpartum depression after our second, and it was difficult! I hope you are doing better and enjoying all the snuggles.
I’d love to know where the purple dress came from in your picture! It’s so pretty!
I am so glad you shared your story! Your authenticity is awesome, Molly!
Oh Molly! I wish I could give you a hug. I love this post and especially your honesty and realness. A lot of women go through PPD so I’m glad that you have openly shared this so so many will know they aren’t alone at all.
I have always loved how authentic your blog is. You don’t shy away from writing about what’s on your heart and that is amazing. I’m sure this will help many people experiencing the same thing.
Nina
aworldofdresses.com
Oh, Molly, so so so beautiful. By you sharing, I know there are women reading who are feeling that thing we all crave; “I am not alone.” There is no magic wand to make it all better but bringing it out in the light and stating the words and having a dear friend not take any crap from you is a gift. What a friend!
Ok, and THEN you hosted the fashion show. What in the world? You may not even remember but you mentioned PPD as a side comment. THAT was vulnerable. Especially in the midst of crazy (the show, not you).
You are a great mom and getting help and surrounding yourself with those who love you more than you’ll ever know proves that.
Thank you for sharing this! I already struggled with anxiety/depression before having my baby and went through such a roller coaster postpartum with the added emotions and new responsibilities of motherhood. It was (and still can be) hard. I’m so thankful for my amazing hubby and family! They have been so loving and understanding! My husband has even chosen to move us back to my home state so I can live near my family for extra support and love (I could cry now from sheer thankfulness for his tender care for me and desire for me to be well). Your blog is such a happy place for me! Thank you again for your vulnerability. You are a blessing!
You’re so dang brave, Molly! I went through the exact same thing with Winston, and he was my first! Just so much adjusting and not feeling myself. It’s a little scary to think of having another (although I TOTALLY am) because of how hard it was post-baby. You’re awesome. Thank you for sharing. <3
Melissa
The Bee’s Knees
Hugs to you my dear friend. Thank you for sharing this so personal moment with all of us.
It took me over 18 months to realize what I went through after having Carson was PPD. Like you, I chalked it up to life with two. I didn’t understand why things felt so DIFFERENT than they were with Owen. I felt so much guilt and pain and didn’t know how to work through it. The thought never crossed my mind until I read a post similar to yours. Everything clicked. The pain and depression and anger and anxiety I went through WAS normal. It’s so hard to feel “normal” in this pretty-picture-life world we see everyone living. Thank you for your vulnerability. It truly made me feel a sort of peace with my journey again. And there is a bright light at the end of the tunnel. It just took me a long time to get there.
Being a parent rocks but sometimes it is tough. I’m so thankful for your openness and honesty ❤️
As usual, you are a TOTAL rockstar Molly. You are always so inspirational, and I feel blessed that you would share such a personal journey with all of us blog readers. I’m sure that SO many moms out there I taking comfort in reading your words. Keep being your amazing self <3
XO
Lee |
LegalLee Blonde
I’m so glad you shared your story. I don’t know when it became a norm for people to say they were fine when they really weren’t. You are strong and I applaud you for sharing.
xo, Lee
Chills. This post gave me chills. I have no doubt your honesty will help someone feel normal and validated in knowing that how they feel isn’t a character flaw or fault. Thank you for being vulnerable with us!
Emily
http://darlingdearestblog.com
You are so amazing for sharing this story Molly. I think so many women feel the same as you. You will help a lot of moms out there. Love you and am so proud of you for sharing your story with us.
Thank you so much for sharing this post with us, Molly. It takes a lot of strength and courage to admit and talk about any kind of mental illness, but I think it’s so important to do because of the sheer number of people who suffer from mental issues and the stigma that still surrounds every single type. I have no doubts that you’re an excellent mother, wife, and person regardless of anything you’ve been through. In fact, I think the fact that you sought help when you needed it makes you an ever better mother! I’ve suffered from mild depression in the past so I’m terrified that it will come back after I have this baby, and I’ve been trying to prepare myself as much as possible so I can recognize symptoms and when to get help. This post is extremely reassuring for me because I know I have a great support system, as it sounds like you do. I’m sending you positive energy and vibes. <3
NCsquared Life
This post was perfect! Thank you for sharing your heart and helping so many women who have and are going through the same thing! You are amazing! Proud of you, friend!
I just looooove coming to your blog. While I don’t always comment, I do thoroughly read your posts and participate in your weekly link up (thank you for hosting, by the way). I love the fact that your posts are informative and thought provoking. Sometimes I learn a new thing or sometimes I shed a tear. Today I’ve done both, because I’ve been that mom too. The only thing is I was reluctant to admit I was suffering from those symptoms. Thank you for your transparency, Molly. I truly believe it will help others to see that we as moms don’t always have it together. However, as you stated, that doesn’t make us bad moms. It makes us human. Sending love and light your way. Be blessed beautiful lady!
oh Kishina, you have no idea how much your comment means to me. Seriously. thank you. thank you for being an encouragement. you are amazing!
Awwww lovely post -thanks for sharing!!
I’m officially back to blogging after a 2-week hiatus – please check out what I’ve come up with!
Happy Monday!
Rebecca
http://www.redtagchiclosangeles.com
thanks, rebecca!
This is such a lovely post! I am happy your finding your way back my love. Post partum depression is not joke or easy task. Our body goes through so much during and after pregnancy that at times takes over us completely. Btw you have such a good friend, who saw the pain in your eyes.
Thank you for hosting,
xo
Mel
thank you, melissa! it is so tough, but i think the more we can talk about it, the less the stigma will be around. <3
This post is absolutely perfect Molly. ; )
<3
I love all the candor and honest you have put into this post. It is so hard sometimes just being a mom to one and having two is def not an easy fleet. I completely get you and you are def not alone. Society puts too much criticism on moms for what they are doing and what they are NOT doing. Moms just rock for being a mom, we are all human and have emotions and can’t be perfect all day everyday. Thank you for sharing this and thank you girls for featuring my two lil rockstars this week! 🙂
~ xo Sheree
Posh Classy Mom
Instagram
oh sheree thank you so much <3
Relieved to see someone post about something like this… my daughter was a preemie and so while I didn’t have the automatic symptoms during recovery, a few months later when she came home from the NICU I had to deal with my own version of this, although I doubt it was quite to the extent you were faced with overcoming. 15 months later I still have moments and it takes reminders like these that I just have to let it pass. YOU ROCK for putting this out there so eloquently and in such a way anybody could read this and feel less alone and less “unfixable.”
everyone’s story is different but it’s so important for us to share and encourage each other and let us know we are not alone <3