The Aftermath - Part Two

Once I recovered from the surgery, things seemed to settle down somewhat. I was still dealing with severe anxiety, but I was learning to manage. We had made the decision to formula feed Hannah, and this allowed Steve to get up with her at night and let me get a full night's rest to aid in beating the anxiety. I started and stopped another medicine after it made me incredibly dizzy and made the anxiety even harder to manage (anxiety makes me dizzy, the medicine made me even dizzier...which then caused more anxiety, etc).

Sad, tired eyes with a newborn

Skin to skin after we stopped breastfeeding

Recovering from surgery, laying in bed with her placed on me

There were countless days that Steve would have to stop what he was doing (which essentially was everything) just to hold me while I cried. There were countless phone calls to my mom to cry to her about how hard life had become. Phone calls to my sister who understood how I felt and what I was going through. Phone calls to my aunt and friends. I constantly kept reaching out for a life raft to bring me back to shore.

And with all this going on, we were prepping for a major life change...moving across the country. We were trying to pack up an entire house while I could barely stop crying long enough help with small chores. It all fell on Steve.
I slowly started to feel a little better as the days ticked by and I was able to help out here and there. I wasn't scared to be left alone anymore. I wasn't debilitatingly dizzy all the time. My social anxiety was getting better (I had to cancel a hair appointment because I couldn't stomach the thought of going somewhere so public). I felt like I was starting to finally find my footing and put the anxiety behind me.

Train ride in the mountains before an epic anxiety attack

My rock holding our world together

I went to my 6 week postpartum appointment and bragged to the NP about how I was doing better. I even joked that my period would probably return soon (as it did at 6 weeks with the boys) and that maybe the hormones would help level me out. Ohh naïve woman. I had no idea what was around the corner.

Then came the darkest day.
My period started all right. Just as I thought it would. And with it came a slew of new hormones crashing around in my body, wreaking havoc on my mind.

All of a sudden, postpartum depression hit me like a tidal wave. It sucked me under the current. I couldn't breathe. I was drowning. All the progress I thought I made was gone.

I was sadder than I've ever felt, detached, scared, suicidal. I became terrified to walk past stairs in case my body just fell down them. I avoided parts of the kitchen to stay away from anything sharp.
I was scared to be left alone.
I was scared of myself.
I was scared of my mind.

I could not stop sobbing. Whole body, shaking, every fiber of me, just sobbing. I kept saying 'I can't do this. I can't keep doing this. I'm exhausted and I just can't go on. I'm not going to make it through this.'  No one had prepared me for how mentally and emotionally exhausting it is to battle with yourself day in and day out. Insomnia, anxiety, depression. To logically know this isn't how you really think, but to be so overcome with the devil in your mind. All the while, your body is recovering. Your baby (or babies) need you. You are in a fight for your life. I was terrified that a day would come where I was too tired to fight back against the darkness. That it would eventually consume me and I would be gone.

I was scaring Steve and I was scaring myself (and I'm pretty sure my mom). At this point, we were days away from moving. I thank God that I reached out. I thank God that I was able to keep my husband fully in tune with what I was going through. I thank God for my family answering the phone every time I called on the brink of no return. I called my aunt in desperation on the day I was supposed to fly out of Denver. She stayed on the phone with me as long as I needed, calming me down and distracting my mind. Then I called my sister and she convinced me that it was time I sought out more help to get started on another medication. I needed help beating this and I needed to stop being too scared to take more medicine. I saw a doctor the very next day and immediately got a prescription for Prozac and the number to a crisis line. I had terrible anxiety over trying a new medication, scared it would make me worse...but I was even more scared of what life would be like if I didn't take the medicine.

Moving truck is all loaded

Empty house - time to move

Steve and I decided that I should fly out to Alabama instead of roadtripping. The day of my flight, I was in BAD shape. I didn't think I could leave Steve. He had been my rock, my safe place, my sanity. Getting on a plane with Hannah was THE HARDEST thing, but thankfully it provided a distraction for my mind. Steve phoned ahead to my dad and stepmom to fill them in on the condition I was in. I don't think many people realized how bad things had gotten.

I made it to my dad's house. They took Hannah and essentially took the burden off of me to care for her for a few days. They let me take a unisom at night and just sleep through the pain I was feeling. I took the Prozac daily. My period started to come to an end. My hormones got under control a little bit. I was making it through the day. I was worried that this would be my new life...just making it through the days and never finding enjoyment again.

The boys at Great Wolf Lodge while I was in AL

Rocking outside in AL to find relief from anxiety

By the time Steve and the boys arrived in Alabama a few days later, I was slowly starting to find my way back to myself. Anxiety lingered as we moved into the new house and had chaos all around, but day by day, I improved.

Genuine happiness.

I'm now three months postpartum and I exercise every single day. I've changed my eating habits. I get as much sleep as I can (and luckily my daughter is sleeping through the night so my husband is getting sleep as well). I take my medicine religiously. I go outside every chance I get. I've drawn closer to God than ever before. I'm closer to my sister because of this. I've leaned on friends. My marriage has strengthened tenfold.

I don't understand why I have to walk through this after such a hard pregnancy and so many changes on the horizon. There have been many days where I say, 'but haven't I been through enough?!' But I'm making it. Most days now I am thriving despite the depression. I still have bad moments, bad thoughts, and bad days where I need to avoid the boys for a little bit and count the hours til it's time for me to go to bed to hopefully start a new 'normal' day in the morning. I have a toolkit now to help me through them. I am so thankful and grateful for this life. I'm thankful for my three beautiful blessings. And I am eternally thankful for my husband, family, and friends who have carried me when I needed it, propped me up on my bad days, shared laughs, tears, and hugs. I've already become so much stronger than the woman I was 3 months ago. I believe in sharing my story to help other mamas or their families understand just a little bit of this postpartum world. It isn't talked about nearly enough. Nothing is wrong with me. I am not ashamed. My body has been through a lot, and it just needs extra grace to heal.

And while I am not healed yet, I'm hopeful that the day of healing is on the horizon. Until then, I will continue to look for all the blessings in my life and thank God for all I have.

I'll keep fighting.