PPD/PPA

Being new parents is no joke. My husband and I knew it would be an adjustment, but our high needs baby has completely rocked our world for the last 20 weeks. She won’t take a bottle, she doesn’t like eating her purées too much for anyone besides mom, she needs significant help falling asleep for naps and bedtime alike, and she has no pattern/routine, despite our numerous attempts to get her on one. It’s Sloane’s world, and we just live in it.

By around 4 or so weeks postpartum, give or take, our pediatrician noted a couple comments I made at appointments as being indicative of postpartum depression and anxiety. Things like not wanting her to be alone with certain people, constantly questioning my ability to be a good mom, stressing about my return to work before I had even gotten my first FMLA paid leave check, and crying at just about every appointment we had (and she had a lot in the beginning while we were trying to figure out Sloane’s GI issues). Soon after our pediatrician noted those things, my husband started to point things out at home. I was crying most of the time the baby was crying, I was having outbursts about how much I felt like I was failing, and I wasn’t feeling any of the joy I initially felt with a new baby. I was overly exhausted and I didn’t feel like a real person. I would go some days eating just enough to keep feeding my child, and sometimes up to a week without a shower. But Sloane had a full belly, and my husband was fed, mostly rested, and doing okay. So it was okay that I was struggling.

Now, before I go further, I need to preface this by letting you know NO ONE made me feel like I couldn’t take care of myself - except me. My husband has always and still is my rock; he hasn’t let me do a single thing alone in this new adventure, especially the hard things. Any negative feelings I had, or any need to take care of everything and everyone except Hannah came from my brain and my brain alone.

I really realized I was struggling when Ben came home from a previous commitment he had one night and heard me crying before he heard the baby. She had been inconsolable for a couple hours at this point, and I was exhausted and hungry and overwhelmed, and I remember saying at some point, “I must be doing everything wrong, why did I ever think I could be a mom?” in between sobs. Ben took Sloane and got her to sleep, and I think I managed to stop crying enough to keep her asleep once we climbed into bed.

The next day I called a number for an employee assistance program my work offers in search of a therapist. I found one that supposedly took my health insurance and set up a tele-visit. During that visit, I found out the therapist did not in fact take my insurance, therefore she didn’t feel comfortable diving into my now glaringly obvious postpartum depression and anxiety. She spent the hour just telling me to stop letting the negative thoughts win - probably the most unhelpful advice I got; I wouldn’t have been seeking help if it was that easy.

I never found another therapist after that. I started trying to cope just by reminding myself that so many moms have gone through the same thing and they made it out alive. And I started being open about it. When I returned to work and people asked how I was, I didn’t sugarcoat it. I was honest, and I talked about the hard times and my struggles. And I still have bad days, 20 weeks in. I still have nights where I can’t sleep because I tell myself all of the ways I’m failing my daughter, my husband, my pets, and myself. I still have days where I cry when the baby cries. I still struggle with letting her be alone with some people. When I’m at work, I need to be constantly updated on how things are going with Sloane at home or I can’t focus on my job. I have intrusive thoughts sometimes about everything that could go wrong. When I’m getting overwhelmed with those feelings, though, I look at pictures of my smiling baby, with her full belly visible even in her clothes, and remind myself that she’s fed, happy, and healthy. The animals are fed, happy, and healthy. My husband and I make an active effort to ensure we are both fed, happy, and healthy. But we work together for everything, and knowing I’m not alone has been the single most helpful part in coping and working through PPD/PPA.

But, while this narrative is important, we also really really need to talk about PPD in the non-birthing partner. Because it’s a thing, and it’s scary and my husband and I barely knew about it until it happened to us. I went back to work at exactly 14 weeks postpartum. We had been trying bottles for weeks and weeks, and we were trying so many different things, and nothing worked. So I went to work that first night, hoping that she would get hungry enough to take a bottle. Spoiler alert: she didn’t. It was awful, and for a couple weeks, I didn’t make it through an entire shift. And if I did, I would come home to an awful sight that broke my heart even more than leaving my husband and my daughter did.

About a month into my return to work, we learned that the non-birthing partner can also get PPD. My husband actively efforts, and he now has help to cope with what he’s been going through. But my husband also wasn’t afraid to ask for help. A lot of men are, and it can cause really dangerous situations.

My husband works overnights right now. In an attempt to still be family, we work the same days, and he hangs out with Sloane while I’m working, and I am with her overnight. However, this plan quickly became a problem because my husband wasn’t sleeping, and then was responsible for a newborn who went on hunger strikes while I wasn’t home. Those combined with the stress and exhaustion he already faced due to having a newborn absolutely ruined his mental state. We’re currently in the process of changing work shifts to alleviate some of that. And he now brings Sloane to me once to twice a shift to feed her to keep her content until I get home. We also have a village of people willing to help out when we need it, and I’m forever thankful to them.

Life has drastically changed for all of us. It makes sense to mentally be rocked to our core. And it makes sense that either parent, birthing parent or not, to struggle in some way. But you’re not alone, and your feelings are valid, and it’s OK to feel that way. Be honest about how you feel. Be open, start the dialogue. And don’t forget about the other partner. They’re allowed to struggle, too, but no one needs to struggle alone. You can’t give your all to your baby if you aren’t giving your all to yourself!