This is my first pour your heart out post, so I figured I may as well just jump completely in and share about a very personal experience that I went through. This is my journey and survival of postpartum anxiety and postpartum depression.
Known to me as "hell on earth."
I don't share the experience and trials of my journey and survival of this disease with many people. I wouldn't say I am ashamed, not anymore .. Not with the passing of time and the healing I have gone through. It was just such a very painful, intense time with many raw emotions that are still hard to relive to this day.
Maybe this post will reach one person though. Maybe it will make a difference in one person's life. So, I will share what I went through. From the worst of the worst, to the healing, and finally the survival of this menacing disease. Because you do .. You survive.
My Journey
After five long years of trying and trying to conceive, I had finally resigned myself to the fact that Cody and I would never have children of our own. We couldn't afford the fancy testing and treatments, so it was something we had always put in God's hands. In a way, I had finally come to accept what I thought was God's ultimate decision .. We would never be parents. When I took a pregnancy test on a whim and it read positive, well, there are no words and no way to even describe the emotions, the feelings. Such a deep longing finally filled. An ache, a void finally gone. It was by far the most amazing moment in my life .. In our life together.
I absolutely adored being pregnant. Nothing in my life compared to being pregnant with our son .. The child that I never thought would be. I welcomed my growing bump, my changing body, even the heartburn and sleepless nights. I wouldn't complain, for I was too thankful .. Too blessed. God, what a miracle.
This was the last pregnancy picture that I snapped of myself. It was the morning of Jaxon's induction. - August 3rd 2010.
I was induced at eight in the morning. Much to my surprise I was already contracting and dilated some. They broke my water, started the pitocin, and the day began. The morning turned to afternoon and the afternoon to evening. Finally at eight in the evening it was time to push. I was about to meet my son.
After pushing for only fifteen minutes Jaxon James Lacher was born. A healthy baby. I was thankful when I heard his cries .. But, where were my own? I can only describe the first moments after Jaxon's birth as surreal and confusing. The nurses took him to clean him off, measure him, listen to his lungs and do their evaluation. I remember trying to see him, but there was such a buzz of commotion in the room that I just laid in the bed and waited. I kept thinking that when they brought me my son, I would feel something.
When they placed him in my arms I loved on him and told him I loved him. Something seemed wrong to me though. This baby that I had carried inside of me for nine months seemed such a stranger to me. I was tired physically, and mentally I was just exhausted. I wasn't ready to be a mom to this child. What was going on? What was wrong with me?
Family flooded the room to meet him. Pictures were taken, congratulations were poured out .. The room was joyful and full of love. Cody seemed the best daddy in the world to me. He took to Jaxon completely. I could see the love and pride in his eyes .. He had a son.
I let Cody take the lead. Not only in those first moments after birthing Jaxon, but during the entire hospital stay. I watched in amazement as he interacted with Jaxon. You could feel the love pouring out of his soul for his child. He held him, changed him, rocked him, fed him. He was an amazing dad. I felt awkward, insecure, scared and tortured by the feelings that were taking over my mind.
I remember my first glance in the mirror after having him. It was a confusing moment. I remember standing in front of the mirror in the hospital bathroom and feeling consumed with an overwhelming grief because he was no longer inside of me. My stomach had already shrunk and I thought to myself in that moment, “What is wrong, Sara?“ He was just outside of the bathroom. He was healthy and safe, so tiny and sweet. I remember putting on the hospital issued gown and the pain I was feeling from childbirth and in that moment my breath was taken away. Panic stole my breath. I was afraid to open the bathroom door and step out into the reality of it all.
This picture might look like a new mom holding her new son, but it is far more telling than that ..
Everyone had gone home and Cody ran home to change clothes. The nurse handed me Jaxon and she asked me if I would like her to take a picture. I obliged, even though it was the last thing I wanted .. A camera pointed at me, scrutinizing me. I'm sure to her it was a tender, sweet moment between mom and baby. To me it was fear and guilt. I was scared to hold him .. I felt frozen in panic. I felt myself becoming numb. I often wonder if I went numb to try to protect myself from all of the tortured feelings I was experiencing. Maybe being numb was better than facing the truth?
The truth was that I didn't feel a bond towards my new baby. He frightened me. I felt empty and sad inside. I felt like I was shutting myself off from feeling anything.
Coming home was exhausting and beyond challenging. I can honestly tell you that I don't remember much of Jaxon's first month or so of life. I was in survival mode. I cared for him, yet, I didn't love him. I didn't feel connected to him. He was diagnosed with colic, which on top of everything else, made life with him seem like the worst thing ever. I never had feelings of hurting him and I was never angry with him. I actually pittied this poor baby that got stuck with me for a mother. Everything seemed cruel and unfair. I would only allow myself to cry in the shower so no one would hear or see me. I didn't accept help or reach out for help.
I didn't leave the house for a month and half. I didn't care to and I didn't want to. And then, the inevitable happened ..
We were invited to a family picnic for the company Cody was working for. I cannot even begin to describe the anxiety and panic that I was going through. I had all day to prepare myself, but I spent the day crying and it was by far the worst day of my life since we had brought Jaxon home. Everything that day was overwhelming and I wanted to run .. I wanted to run far away. I did not want to be around people. I was not prepared to see anyone.
I dressed Jaxon up all cute and then I did the best I could with myself. This is what I looked like that day. I remember taking a picture so I could look at myself and see what people would see.
This is me in mid September. Jaxon was a month and a half old at this time. I was far into a depressed state with the onset of anxiety. They had taken a hold of me. I felt helpless and hopeless to this disease. I wanted to give up.
I hit rock bottom at the company picnic. I tried to sit out of the way of people, but they found me anyway. "How old is your baby? How is being a mom? Does he sleep good? Don't you love motherhood? Isn't it the best?" And on and on.
I wanted to scream, "LOOK AT ME - DOES IT LOOK LIKE EVERYTHING IS WONDERFUL?" I ended up running to the car. My husband came out and I asked to leave. I was hysterical and I was trapped with people I didn't know asking me questions I wasn't prepared to answer. Then I noticed Jaxon wasn't with him. I ran back to the picnic area and some lady I didn't know was holding my baby and cooing over him. I went over and pretty much ripped him out of her arms. How dare she hold my baby and interact with him in that way. Didn't she know that's all I wanted to do with him? We left the picnic. We returned home. That's when the anxiety and panic really started.
I would experience one to two panic attacks a day. I would be by myself with our young son trying to breathe and talk myself through these awful attacks. My chest would burn and I felt like I was going to die. At that point, I had even wished it a couple of times. Jaxon and my husband would be better off without me. I had nothing to offer. I had given up hope that I would ever feel like a mother. That I would ever love my son or bond with him. That I would ever feel like me again. I was lost.
I had thought about hurting myself and it scared me. The only thing I knew at that point, was that I needed to get myself help. So, towards the end of September, almost two months after having Jaxon, I sought out a new psychiatrist and a therapist. With the use of medicine and talk therapy I could feel this dark cloud that was enveloping me start to lift. It wasn't a quick and easy fix. It took time and it took a willing and a want to fight this disease.
Here are a few pictures from mid October. This is when I started to feel myself returning to the person I knew I was. The days were still hard and challenging, but the most amazing thing was happening. - I was bonding with my son for the first time. I can look at these pictures and remember living this and I can remember feeling again. Good feelings. Honest and true feelings of enjoying my baby.
I love the tenderness of these pictures. My son holding my hand as if saying, "I need and love you mommy." A picture of me holding, kissing and loving on my baby because it felt right and it felt good.
This is a picture I posted to my facebook account. It was one of our first family outings where I wasn't in pure panic and in a state of complete sadness. It's titled - It was a good day! I was so happy. Does it show?
I adore this picture of Jaxon and me. The contentment and peace that I was feeling just shows through on my face. My eyes look alive again. I recognized myself.
Falling In Love
The one thing I always tell any mom that I talk with that is experiencing PPA/PPD is that YOU WILL bond with your child and YOU WILL fall in love with them. I 100% believe and guarantee it. And you know what? These tiny, little beings will love you back. But, I believe that they always do love you. Even with your imperfections. They are your biggest supporters. They don't give up on you.
By the end of October, almost three months after Jaxon was born, I was back to myself. I was Sara again. I felt happy and whole again. The deep ache, hurting and sadness were gone.
I can remember the day so vividly that my heart softened and I knew without a doubt that I was in complete and total love with my son. I was dressing him for a Halloween parade for my nephew's school. As I was dressing him in his cute monkey costume, I was consumed with love. Just an overwhelming sense of love for this child. That day was like a rebirth for Jaxon and me.
In that moment between Jaxon and I, I cried a different set of tears. They were the ones that were missing the day he was born. The happy tears. I kissed and hugged and loved on him. I apologized to him. He smiled and cooed back. It was the single most precious moment of my life.
Survival
I survived this awful, cruel disease. I took to motherhood wonderfully and let go of the pain. I forgave myself for not being the best mom to my son right from the beginning, but, I also accepted that it wasn't my fault. No one would choose this.
My love for Jaxon grew and grew. He's now a happy and healthy two year old. He's well adjusted and my goodness, does he ever love his mama. He's my life, my world .. I have no idea where I would be without him.
Moving Forward
Of course I have huge fears of experiencing PPA/PPD again with our new baby. I would be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind all.of.the.time.
I know that my risks are greater because I have a history of depression and because I experienced this disease with my first child. But, here's what else I know ..
That I won't give in to this disease. I will not let it overtake me or my life. I will ask and reach out for help. I have a tremendous psychiatrist now that is already working with me and will continue to do so after baby is born. I have a wonderful therapist to talk to. I have a much better support system because not only have I educated myself more on this disease, I have educated those around me.
Most of all, I hold onto hope and my faith .. For I am a survivor.
