Postpartum Depression sounds scary, right? I feel like when I heard the term, prior to having my own kids, it often seemed like a daunting and foreign concept. How could you possibly be depressed when you have this beautiful new bundle of joy to love up on?
But the reality is, postpartum depression and postpartum anxiety are much more common than society acknowledges. Did you know that roughly 1 in 5 women struggle with postpartum depression? I hope by sharing my postpartum depression experience, I can help reduce the stigma surrounding mental health. I want to help to normalize these experiences and help others feel supported in their feelings. Keep reading to hear about my postpartum depression, what signs to look for, and how and when I reached out for help.
If you or someone you know needs help, you can visit these resources:
- National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
- Substance Abuse and Mental Health Hotline: 1-800-622-4357
- Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741 to connect with a Crisis Counselor
- Cerebral: This is what I use for my own medication. You can connect with a nurse practitioner to receive a prescription and also get counseling as part of your monthly subscription!
- BetterHelp: This is what I use for therapy (and I love my therapist so much). You can chat, video call, or phone call for weekly appointments. They have group sessions that I’ve attended that are really helpful, too!
The Beginning
For me, my postpartum depression showed up around 7 weeks postpartum after my first baby. I had just passed my 6-week postpartum check-up, so I didn’t really know where to turn. I had just filled out the survey in the waiting room of my doctor’s office, answering honestly to all of the questions laid out for me. Questions, by the way, that are kind of bogus to ask a new mother (no matter what number kid she’s on). Don’t get me wrong, I understand the intention is pure. However, in my experience, the questions asked in the PPD assessment survey aren’t helpful at actually assessing postpartum mood disorders. They kind of just point out the daily struggles of parenthood.
Not to mention, I spent the first 6 weeks after having a baby with guests filtering in and out of our home. I had support for the first month and a half that I wouldn’t have regularly after that. My parents each visited, my aunt visited, friends were here. And after 6 weeks, the visits wrapped up and we were left to handle life with a new baby all on our own. It was hard! And living away from family, it was a tough reality to wake up to.
A familiar, yet foreign feeling
I’m familiar with the feeling of depression. I’ve experienced it on and off my entire life. It’s hereditary in my family. But even though I’m no stranger to the feeling, I had no idea how strongly it would end up hitting me, or how quickly and aggressively it would creep up, while I was already in the throes of learning to breastfeed and caring for another tiny human being for the first time.
It was like a dark cloud hovering over me all of the time
I felt like I had fallen down a hole and couldn’t get out. Tiny moments felt overwhelming. Larger moments felt unmanageable. It felt like there was no end in sight. I would cry out of nowhere, sometimes falling to the floor in tears. At one point, as I was slumped over in the shower sobbing for no reason, my husband tried to get my attention. “Liv? Liv?” he asked me, as I just sat there staring at the ground.
The rush of hormones, the feeling of supporting another with your own energy and physical milk production, the foreign body you’re in after growing life for nearly 10 months, and the lack of family support. It can all build up to be a lot and to hit you in ways you don’t expect.
Once I opened up about it, I started feeling better
I shared with my husband what was going through my mind. I made this video and opened up to the world. And I got such a positive response from both! I was so relieved to hear that I wasn’t alone and that everything I was thinking was normal and common. Others were also feeling as unexplainably down as I was. Not that I want others feeling blue, but it made me feel less crazy in my own postpartum emotions. It’s amazing what the sense of community and camaraderie will do for you in moments like those.
When I returned to work about 4 months postpartum, I think it gave me the distraction I needed. After that, my depression just started to fade away. When my son was around 10 months, I reached out to start therapy. Honestly, I wish I would have reached out for help sooner, and taken more specific steps, rather than trying to combat the depression on my own. I wish I would’ve been proactive about it rather than just waiting for it to fade on its own. I’m lucky it did fade, but I’ll never forget the way it felt before that.
My second Postpartum Depression experience
The second time I prepared to give birth, I knew what to expect. I knew the signs to look for, I knew what the cloud would feel like if it started to creep in.
Around two weeks postpartum, it hit me. The exhaustion, the weepiness, the sadness, the overwhelm. This time was different, and I knew my depression was partly because we were a month into a global pandemic, partly because I couldn’t see any family or friends, and partly because I was postpartum. There were so many things at once, so I knew I didn’t want to take any chances this time. At that point, I made an appointment for a virtual meeting with my doctor.
My doctor gave me a prescription so I could start antidepressants. I truly think it was the additional support I needed to get through those first few weeks, and it helped me a lot. I ended up going off of them later because I was feeling good, more comfortable, and my depression more manageable. Overall, my second experience with postpartum depression was much more mild than my first. And I truly believe that’s because I was open about it and I knew the signs to look for! I wasn’t afraid to ask for help right away.
Once my baby was about 6 months old I started to notice the signs coming back.
The crying, the quick temper, the exhaustion, the lethargy. I had no motivation or ability to enjoy things I normally did. Feelings of hopelessness were creeping back in. I was putting all of my energy into trying to stay optimistic and working out my emotions through my daily workouts. Working out made a huge difference and honestly, the physical release helped keep my mental state stable for a while. But after a bit, even the hour-long workouts every day weren’t enough.
I had lost my job due to company layoffs, I still hadn’t seen any family all year, a year that we had spent the majority of in quarantine (except for our occasional beach visit). Terrible things started taking over my thoughts, thoughts that I don’t even want to put into writing (but just know, they exist and are more common than you think). I questioned my purpose and whether I was needed by those around me or not – I questioned everything.
Getting help
When those kinds of thoughts hit, I told my husband that I needed therapy. I had stopped the initial therapy I mentioned after my first therapist ended up giving me unsolicited sleep training advice during one our sessions. Hearing your therapist tell you that your son “really should be doing X by now” was not exactly comforting in my depression. But now, I just needed someone to talk to and a safe place to talk through all of the messiness inside my head. I’m not kidding when I say, the very next day BetterHelp reached out to me for a potential partnership. They offered me a free trial to experience the platform for myself, as well as a discount code for my audience. I feel like it was a gift from the universe, knowing that I needed help then more than ever. I found a therapist that I absolutely adored, for the first time in my life, and I finally felt like I had some support. (This post is not sponsored, but if you’d like to try it yourself I do have a discount for you through this link.)
A few weeks after I started therapy, our friend committed suicide. It rocked my world. I mean, it was so unexpected and shook me emotionally to my core. She left behind two small boys. We had so much in common. And I knew after that, I would do whatever I could to avoid potentially having the same fate. I ended up continuing on with my therapy and going on medication again.
Now, I still have good days and bad but many, many more good days than before
I feel like for the first time all year I can finally experience all of my senses. I can embrace the sun, I can hear birds chirping again, I can take in the ocean waves. It sounds so cliché, but you would be amazed how you don’t notice your surroundings when you’re depressed. I feel like I can finally breathe again. I’m motivated. I’m not always energetic (I do have 2 kids after all), but I’m inspired to live. I want to live. For my family and for myself.
This life is worth living. It DOES get better.
My therapist described depression to me as being stuck in a giant hole, and sometimes you just need a ladder to help you get out. Ask for that ladder if you need it. Don’t try and climb out yourself. There is NO shame in reaching out for support, or for talking about it.
It’s kind of amazing how women spend 40 weeks growing life, carrying insane hormones that we’re not used to, and watching our bodies change. Then we go through this traumatic physical and emotional experience of birthing out a human, having a wave of hormone changes yet again, and physical recovery, all while caring for a new baby. And we’re expected to carry on as if it has never happened! Our bodies are expected to “bounce back” like a rubber band. Our minds are expected to be strong at all times. There’s this idea of “doing it all” and how its impossible, yet we all feel pressure to prove that wrong and prove we can, in fact, do it all. We’re often viewed as weak or flawed if we experience mood changes after going through such a giant life change, but we need to be viewed as strong for acknowledging it in the first place.
We need to normalize these imbalances so that women don’t feel so alone, and so that we don’t end up with tragic fates.
Women need to feel supported, understood, and uplifted. We need to know how badass and incredibly impressive and strong, both physically and mentally, we actually are.
Hang in there, friends. There is light at the end of the tunnel. And if you don’t feel it right now, you will again. And it will be the brightest, most warm light worth feeling. You may just need a ladder to help you get there.
Watch my videos below for more on my experience:
