I haven't written at all about post partum depression yet, and it is time. In many ways, I wish I had written about my experience while I was in the midst of my depression; yet I will write my reflection of it and hopefully I will do it's feelings justice.
I had heard about post-partum depression but that's all. I wasn't going to have it...I wasn't even going to have the baby blues. I am not sure why I thought I had some special immunity that a large number of women don't.
Looking back, I think my first signs of depression were from the moment little Aya was born. I remember thinking she was beautiful and I was thrilled to have labored naturally. I remember being amazed at the complexity of her tiny face. It held everything all in a miniature model, yet was still so detailed, refined and perfect. It was the proudest moment I have ever felt but for some reason I felt detached from the very life I labored for. I didn't feel a need to hold her or be close to her. The doctor laid her on my chest when she was first born and I watched Dan cut her umbilical cord. But after that, I don't remember holding her or gazing at her for a very long time. They weighed her and checked her over, cleaned her, and checked her over again. Dan held her, then Grandma Milli, and then my parents and brother. I was light headed at the time and didn't feel 100% coherent, despite the fact I had a vaginal birth free of any kind of pain medication.
After quite some time, I was able to hold Aya to feed her, but I don't remember feeling very connected to her then either. I was more excited that breastfeeding was working than I was to gaze at her and love her. She spent the night in the nursery and they brought her to me when she needed to nurse. And on the second day in the hospital I remember holding her very little still. Each time I did, she was swaddled tightly, her cap on. My friends came to visit and held her the whole time. When they left I remember them asking if I wanted to hold her. I said I didn't; I said they could lay her in her little bassinet. When I think about this now, it makes me sad. My side would have been the most comforting, most reassuring and most natural space for Aya's small little spirit--and it would have been best for me too.
The lack of connection I felt towards Aya continued, but as time went on it got worse. In addition to feeling like I hadn't fallen in love with my baby, I now felt burdened by her, overwhelmed by her, frustrated with her. I honestly had many days where I didn't want her and didn't want her to be mine. I would look at her crying and feel like letting her be. I didn't feel sad for her or concerned for her well-being. I was taking care of her out of a feeling of obligation, not out of love for my sweet baby girl who was obviously asking for something whether she knew what it was or not.
Aya wasn't a very happy little baby. She cried a lot. It felt as though she was either sleeping or screaming so all I wanted her to do was sleep. Then, when she was awake, I wasn't happy until she was sleeping again. I felt anxious all the time, hoping for sleep, hoping it would last for a long time, and nervous about what I would do when she was up again. When she wasn't happy or sleeping, or wasn't sleeping long enough or well enough, when I wanted it, and how I wanted it, I was angry. I felt like I was on the verge of tears most of the time. When I wasn't crying, I gave myself pep talks about how much I had to be grateful for and I would have things in perspective again for a little while. I would be okay until things felt out of my control again. Anger returned and a mean hot energy ran through my entire body. I had to scream or cry to let it out, and in the process I said hurtful things to my husband and little Aya. Both times I promised her I would never say anything bad about her ever again.
Weeks past and things weren't getting any better. We weren't thriving. Even after we worked with our lactation consultant and a chiropractor and saw Aya's demeanor improve dramatically, I continued to feel miserable. Aya was better but I was getting worse. I felt really sad, really withdrawn and angry. It didn't help that I was having difficulty sleeping and my husband was emotionally and physically exhausted balancing work and his new baby girl, while never knowing what he could expect out of me. He walked carefully, not wanting to step on any hot spot that might set me off. We were in survival mode.
And so there came a day when we knew I needed to go and see my midwife to find out what to do. After a few simple questions she said she thought I was experiencing depression. She said she thought an anti-depressant would help. I cried in her office. I felt and looked terrible despite the fact I had gotten ready, showered and done my hair. The next time she saw me, about two weeks later, she walked in the room, took one look and said, "Wow, you look great, wide-eyed and happy! It must be going well!" And it was. The medication was really helping. I felt like I had found myself again. I felt like now I could fall for my baby girl who brought tears to her dad's eyes when she arrived.
Aya hadn't changed a lot. She still had moments of crying, still woke up frequently in the night and still wasn't a laid back baby. Yet, I could appreciate her now and give this new way of life a chance to reshape me, rather than trying to make it fit what I had previously known. I realized the more I tried to make Aya fit our life rather than fit ours around hers, the more frustrated I would be. I was going to have to learn what it really meant to put someone else needs before mine and be willing to let my routine get interupted a lot, again and again. It was time to start swimming with the new current no matter how much I wanted to resist it. But I was too worn out trying to swim upstream any longer. I believe my medication enabled me to think clearly enough to realize these good truths.
I also saw a counselor who walked me through anger management. We talked about having proactive and reactive responses to anger that would work for me--in both cases, I found I needed to take step back and figure out exactly why I was upset before saying anything. We discovered that without medicine I had had to act out of an emotional state of mind rather than a rational state of mind because my anger came so quickly. With medication, I was able to recognize when anger was coming and was calm enough to be proactive.
I am still learning a lot about post-partum depression but I have learned a lot already. Naturally, it's prevention intrigues me the most. Here is a compilation of some of the things I am discovering.
It is important for mom and baby to be together as often as possible after the birth. A baby is naturally programed to stay close to his mother for warmth, nourishment and bonding. Swaddling isn't necessary when a baby stays with his mother and it doesn't do the job that the human body does to regulate body temperature.
It is better to leave the hospital cap off of your babies head. A mother who can smell her baby's head can bond with her baby better.
Let the doctors and nurses do initial tests on your baby while you hold him. Skin to skin contact with your baby, early and often, helps with bonding.
Your baby will want to nurse soon after birth. By keeping your baby with you, you won't miss his window. This first nursing is important because your baby is in a unique state of alertness, ready to connect with you. If your baby is away from you when he wants to start nursing you might miss his cues.
If possible, clean your own baby. Studies have shown that mammals in the wild who don't clean there own babies often don't bond with their babies and sometimes even abandon their babies.
If possible, have a completely natural birth free of medications that could interfere with the hormonal responses your body uses to connect with your baby.
Omega 3s are important during pregnancy and post-partum. A mom and baby starved of these nutrients are more prone to post-partum depression and colic. A liquid form is easiest for your body to absorb.
When your body is ready and movement isn't painful, exercise regularly after the baby comes--as often as possible. Studies have shown that physical activity can work as well as medication in treating post-partum depression.
Recognize you need as much care as the new baby. Have an extra hand stay with you after your baby arrives. You will need someone to take care of you while you care for your baby. In many other cultures, the first weeks of post-partum are very set aside. They are looked at as very different from routine days. In some cultures there is actually a ceremony after several weeks of post-partum to welcome the mother back to her routine in the community. Do what you can to set aside these early weeks. Limit visitors if they aren't helpful to your recovery. The mother panda doesn't leave her den for a month after her baby is born. This is a helpful for picture for me when I think about visualizing the early weeks. When nature has its way, the early weeks are a very focussed time, free from extra stress and the normal routine.
Finally, nursing that is going well is shown to help prevent and fight post-partum depression. If it isn't going well, it can contribute to feelings of depression so seek help the minute you have questions, not after you are already experiencing a problem.
My little Aya was sick this week. On Wednesday night she woke up around midnight and was burning hot. As a breastfeeding mom, I was so grateful I could instantly comfort her by feeding her. I wasn't surprised she was sick. The little boy at her sitter's house had come down with an ear infection and strep earlier in the week. The rest of the night was fretful for Aya. She called out in her sleep often. As I lay in bed listening for her, I felt so grateful I am still breastfeeding. I felt like it enabled our Aya to keep resting despite the fact she was miserable. I wondered what the mother who doesn't breastfeed does to comfort her sick baby and help her to sleep. Does she continue to warm bottles? Does she rely on rocking? As I drifted back into sleep, while still on high alert for Aya, I felt comforted knowing I could let Aya breastfeed all night long if she needed to. Having an option that guaranteed comfort and rest for her was a relief to me and a proud moment.
