Hello Again
I feel like I’ve crawled out of a very dark and deep hole, clawing the earth with bruised and broken fingers on my laborious ascent. To say that I found motherhood an adjustment would be the grossest of understatements—the ground opened up below me and swallowed me whole as I fell, Alice/Persephone/Innana-like, skirts ballooning, into the worst hell I’ve ever known. No one tells you how difficult taking care of an infant is, how the intolerable sleep deprivation and the endless divination of the needs of an inconsolable creature who cannot tell you what it wants will tax every last reserve of strength, dragging you to the brink of sanity before smashing you on the rocks of utter madness.
I’ve written about my history with depression before. When I became pregnant last year, my doctor weaned me off the antidepressants that had been so pivotal in my functioning as a normal, productive human being. So when the full fury of post-partum depression slammed into me just days after I first cradled my newborn daughter, I was completely armorless, like a burn victim without any protective skin. And when one of my cats died because he nibbled on the lilies that someone sent the baby, I blamed myself mercilessly and rued the day I ever got pregnant. Every day, all I could think of was how much I didn’t want to be a mother and how I would have traded my living child for my dead cat in a heartbeat. Most of all, I thought about how badly I wanted to die, too.
For months I dragged my husband—the most patient, wonderful person on the planet; a true übermensch if there ever was one—beneath the undercurrent of my unrelenting anxiety and the weight of my crushing despair. His best friend and partner had been spirited away by capricious fairies who had put in her place a battered, beaten-down Jasmin-shaped husk who could only communicate through tears, keening “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t” over and over again.
In between tedious, Sisyphean bouts of nursing, diaper changing, and infant consoling, I found myself curled up on the couch mentally willing the world to melt into nothingness, and I with it.
I probably wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for the help I received; if my mother-in-law hadn’t swooped in from across the country to ply us with the physical and emotional support we so desperately needed. I had to learn that there wasn’t any shame in asking for help and I wasn’t being a bad mother by going back on medication. Far from it. Without drugs, without therapy—without hope—my little girl wouldn’t have any mother, good or bad.
There are days when I still feel like I’m suspended on a tightwire 100 feet above the ground, but the good days are slowly but ever so steadily starting to outnumber the bad. It helps that my baby is no longer a recalcitrant grub whose boisterous full-body convulsions continually reinforced the fact that I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. She’s a mini person now who loves looking at the pretty baby in the mirror and enjoys being bounced on the knee to uproarious strains of “She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain.” And she smiles—oh how she smiles! When I reach in to pick her up from her crib in the morning, her entire face crinkles up with pure unadulterated joy, like the breaking of a new day.
sarah k. said,
March 21, 2009 at 2:23 pm
Hi, I can’t remember if I’ve ever left you a comment before, since I added you to my reader shortly before your hiatus. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I totally, absolutely, 100% understand what you’re saying and how you feel. I think if people told you what it’s like to be a parent, the species would go extinct. But… it does let up, ever so slowly. They get bigger. They start to feed themselves, and dress themselves, and talk back. They’re awesome. And beautiful. (My, how YOURS is beautiful!)
But I finally decided that for some of us, the only way to be even remotely good for our kids is to be medicated, to get out often, to let family and friends help when they can. That’s what good moms do, and that’s what makes happy kids. You and I may not be friends, but I’m here to tell you that, as cheesy as it sounds, you’re not alone.
May the good days keep coming!
Rose said,
March 21, 2009 at 2:38 pm
So glad that you’re seeing the daylight now. It is VERY hard to become a mother, but you sound like you’re aware of the joy as well. Good luck from a mother of 25 & 20 year old daughters who still remembers how tough the transition was and yet is so glad to have made it.
Victoria Everman said,
March 21, 2009 at 3:14 pm
It is great to see a new post from you! I was just thinking about you yesterday :)
I adore how amazingly honest you are. I’m not a parent, and I could never imagine all that goes into being one. Postpartum depression is quite common from what I hear, and having help from ANYone can make a big difference. One day, my fiance and I plan to have a kid - I have already told him that I will NEVER have one unless I have my mom around, both for emotional support and for day-to-day help/advice.
Your daughter is beyond gorgeous and her smile looks priceless.
betz said,
March 21, 2009 at 4:10 pm
I think sometimes people don’t talk about the hardship because it’s hard to make someone that hasn’t lived it truly understand. Plus it is different for everyone. (Although I wish someone would’ve told me that literally a full EIGHT hours of one’s day would be taken up by nursing the baby alone. That’d put it into perspective for anyone)I remember the early newborn days pushing my baby in the stroller and envying female passersby that were ALONE. So free and so much themselves. Now I envy no one. I love my kids but I will never take motherhood for granted.
Hang in there. She’s a cutie and it only gets better, it really really does.
craftydabbler said,
March 21, 2009 at 4:10 pm
Welcome back. I’m so sorry that you went through all of that. I can only imagine what losing your cat did to you. I stayed on my antidepressant because I just knew I needed them (long, long history of major depression etc) and the people helping me felt that they were “safe enough”. I’m glad you figured out that it is ok to ask for help.
Your daughter is lovely and so are you.
heather said,
March 21, 2009 at 4:49 pm
Hang in there - it does get easier and better, the first few weeks with my son were amazingly hard - the sleep, or lack there of is incredible. Just getting through the day was a victory. Therapy & meds kept me together- there isn’t anything wrong with it, and you’ll be a better mum for being able to cope and teach those skills to your beautiful daughter.
Welcome back & enjoy the spring
maureen o'connor said,
March 21, 2009 at 6:04 pm
Welcome Back, we’ve missed you:)
Here’s to new beginnings, and a beautiful spring.
/m
laura said,
March 21, 2009 at 6:40 pm
my daughter was colicky, screamed for 6-8 hours a day every day for months. i was just so miserable, and exhausted. i could barely stand it. my husband was working two jobs at the time, and my family lived in another country so i was alone. i remember how acutely aware i was that this was supposed to be the most joyful time of my life and i was completely overwhelmed and stressed out.
for me i think even after the colic stopped it took me months to relax, but now she is two i can honestly day the last year of my life has been the happiest, they really do bring total joy, just sometimes it takes a while to kick in.
i admire your honesty, i really think some degree of postnatal depression is the norm, rather than the exception, yet we are made to feel guilty if we experience it.
laura said,
March 21, 2009 at 6:41 pm
btw she is beautiful, congratulations
Marsha said,
March 21, 2009 at 8:02 pm
So glad to see your blog pop up in my reader again–and very sorry to hear that the transition to parenthood has been a difficult one for you. And then very glad to know that things are getting better. Hang in there!
Lauren said,
March 21, 2009 at 11:05 pm
Have you read dooce.com? She went through the same thing with her first daughter and even checked herself into a mental hospital. Now she is pregnant with her second daughter and stayed on a lower dose of meds. She even wrote a book about her experience: It Sucked and I Cried. Check it out. She is a great writer who is extremely honest about her experiences.
Hayley said,
March 22, 2009 at 6:26 pm
“No one tells you how difficult taking care of an infant is, how the intolerable sleep deprivation and the endless divination of the needs of an inconsolable creature who cannot tell you what it wants will tax every last reserve of strength, dragging you to the brink of sanity before smashing you on the rocks of utter madness.”
Well said! They say after 6 weeks you start to feel normal- and it was pretty true for me- those first weeks you are a zombie- and it is sooooo nice to return to a more familiar version of yourself.
Two reading suggestions:
Opting In: Having a Child without Losing Yourself
Rookie Mom’s Handbook [website here: http://www.rookiemoms.com/ ]
Your baby is beautiful! Cheers!
lanea said,
March 23, 2009 at 7:57 am
Welcome back. One of my dear friends suffered terrible post-partum depression when her daughter was born, and it was absolutely heart-breaking from the outside. I can’t fathom how difficult it is to experience. I am very glad you’ve weathered the worst of it, and I hope things keep getting easier. Your daughter is lovely.
Tvini said,
March 23, 2009 at 10:29 am
The conditions you go through as a new parent would be banned under the Geneva Convention. The sleep deprivation is terrible. The total lifestyle change is unbelievable. There’s no way anybody CAN tell you, because you just don’t get it if you haven’t gone through it.
When I was a new mom, every other parent would tell me, “just wait, the hard part is coming” referring to actually rearing the child. I’m here to tell you that’s nonsense. The first three months are the worst, and it really does get much better from there on out.
I’m glad you’re getting the help you need. Hang in there, you’re doing great - and your daughter is beautiful!
Carm said,
March 23, 2009 at 10:38 am
Thanks for your post. I am so thankful you do have people in your life to hold you and help you and I am hopeful things will only get better. Your daughter is lovely and your blog is one I’ve so enjoyed in the past and I was thrilled to see you pop up again in my Google Reader. Hang in there. You and your family are in my thoughts today.
andrea gutierrez said,
March 23, 2009 at 11:31 pm
i commend you for being so opened and honest about how difficult and life changing having a child is. and it is so hard, especially for us chosen ones who have dealt with anxiety and or depression and still have to deal with it. reading your words reminded me of so much when my little girl was first born. sending sweet wishes to you…
Katherine Stone said,
March 24, 2009 at 7:57 am
Thank you for sharing your story. I know it will help others. I look forward to sharing your writing with my readers at Postpartum Progress.
Sabine said,
March 24, 2009 at 1:08 pm
Thank you so much for writing this so eloquently. I too have suffered from depression for the majority of my life, and I felt the same way you did when I had my daughter. All I could think was, “What did I do?” No one ever talked to me about PPD until I got it. So many women go through this, and it is a wonderful thing to share our stories. It does get better. I even think about having another baby. Ha! Enjoy your sweet baby.
Jen said,
March 25, 2009 at 12:25 am
My old room looks great. :) I will email you and we will get together and I will meet the little beauty.
Jan said,
March 27, 2009 at 12:32 pm
So happy that you are back with us. I have really missed your posts. Your beautiful daughter looks so happy and you look radiant! Yes, the sleep deprivation is a drag. I believe that I existed on 2 1/2 to 3 hrs sleep per night for the first few years. It will all fall into place. Our daughter was completely unexpected and a jolt to our 16 year relationship of just “us two”. Now at the age of 24, she is a very lovely, independent and creative person whom we dearly love. To realize that we may have missed this opportunity to become parents is just so sad. I wish your family all the good blessings and happiness that you deserve.
Eilonwy said,
March 27, 2009 at 8:28 pm
Wow. I’m so glad you found my site (so I could come back and find yours again.) And what happens when I show up– you have the most gorgeous baby girl! Congratulations!!
Ahh, the demon depression, though. Damn, I’m sorry you had to go through that, but so glad you got the help you need. You are brave and beautiful and deserve tons of joy.
Amory said,
March 27, 2009 at 8:59 pm
Welcome Back!! What a beautiful little lady! It is pretty amazing how motherhood slaps you upside the head, isn’t it? I’m glad you’re finding ways to enjoy it and asking for help is a BIG step! Best of luck to you!
Seven said,
October 22, 2009 at 10:36 am
Thanks for sharing that. I’ve been going through depression again and it’s been very hard. I just happened across your page today. I had depression really bad when my daughter was born, but when the second baby arrived I had a plan and knew what was going to ‘get’ me — and it was much better.
Mephala said,
October 26, 2009 at 7:29 am
Your daughter is beautiful! It is crazy exhausting being a mom. No one ever warns you. My mom even lied to me about the pain of labour or as she says, I’d never go through it.
My daughter just turned 6 months and I still wonder how I survived the tiring pregnancy, my darling 17 year old cat who was a son to me dying of a heart attack before my very eyes 2 days before I gave birth (it was 2 days of tears and self-loathing and blame through his passing and cremation so I know how you feel about your cat), and the mad days and nights with 2 young children on almost no sleep (and still going on).
One day at a time and accepting any kind of help helps a ton. Your MIL is wonderful! :D