What if I didn't open my mouth? What if I never posted or wrote that note?

Why are we so afraid of opening up about our problems, struggles, or trials? 
Is it fear of judgement? 
Is it hard to be open about our personal life? 
Is it because we think no one wants to hear it?
Is it because we think no one will care?
Is it because of the stigma that surrounds struggles that people face? 
Will people think we are crazy or are seeking attention? 
Or is it all of the above?

My depression hit me one month after giving birth and it came on strong all at once. I hid my struggle with depression from everyone. I was confused, scared of being judged, scared of not having it all together, all of the above, and it almost cost me my life. My intrusive thoughts brought on suicidal thoughts. I decided to try to hold on at least until my 6 week appointment. My doctor noticed I wasn't myself and said I looked awful. The mistake was even waiting that long to get help, but I didn't know what was happening to what I call my broken brain.

Some people have told me to just get over it, or this a new mom thing, don't talk about it, or keep some secrets for yourself. Comments like that are parts of the stigma, why people don't open their mouths and get help. 

My friend Shantelle said, "It's sad to think that other people are in that place right now. They'd rather die than tell anyone".

I went to a support group last week. When I got to share my story I mentioned some things people say to people with mental illness. I brought my journal and wrote down some of the things the women running the group said that helped me. They said, "the 3 most common complications after giving birth are bleeding, infection, and suicide. What if you are not fine? What if you don't make it through? The barrier to communication is false reassurance. So what do we say to people with mental illness? We can say, "yes, you are depressed, but you are a worthy human being." Use the good in a person, not external forces, like how the weather is beautiful so you must feel good today too. Don't try to fix the person. Listen to them, love them, watch their kids, and fold their laundry."

The amount of support you offer to someone will either hinder or speed up any progress involving healing or finding coping strategies.

By the time I got help, I'm sure I was days away from ending it all. I didn't have a plan, but I knew if I didn't open up with my doctor, I wouldn't be here much longer. It's because I want to live that I opened my mouth. How could I let those intrusive uncontrollable, suicidal thoughts that come from nowhere win?! I was suffering. I hope you will get help too when you can't hold it anymore. 
Yes, I know it's easier to say than to do. There would be bad days when I told my husband I'm done.  It's those days he tried extra and tried and tried and tried and never gave up on me.

The day I shared my story, a girl online wrote me and explained how she was having a meltdown, how she thought she was crazy. When she got online she saw and read my post. Then she wrote me telling me she feels a lot of the same things. She hid it for 7 months. She called that day for an appointment to meet with her doctor.

A couple of weeks ago a General Authority came to our Stake Conference at the chapel. There were a couple hundred people there.  As I was sitting there I saw a woman and her husband with their son. As I was sitting there a thought came into my head to write her a note. I wrote that she was a beautiful mother and I talked about my blog a little and asked her not to be offended by my note. I handed it to her as she was going out into the hallway. I waited about 5 minutes, then I went to see her. When she saw me she said, "I just need to hug you. Thank you, I really needed that. I have postpartum depression too!" We cried together and talked about how amazing the Lord is, that out of all the people that was there we ended up meeting. We've never talked before. We spent a little bit of time relating our stories with each other. How similar hers is to mine, except she's been on her medication for about a year. I found another friend.

By opening up we can offer support. 

I believe people care. I believe our Heavenly Father cares and wants us to get help and help others. He wants us to live and not to vote against the preciousness of life by ending it.

There is help!

Postpartum Depression is hard on Marriages.

Any mental illness is hard on marriages or any relationship. This week has been really hard. I have so many panic attacks and it's something that we just realized was going on. I thought I was just being really impatient. Postpartum Depression is one of the greatest, hardest learning experiences of my life. I also have anxiety which I am on medication for both.
I need to learn how to take care of my marriage as PPD causes a roller coaster of emotions in me.  We are not an angry family. My husband never yells at me. Some people tell me that fighting is normal in relationships but that hasn't been my experience. Our children are used to a quiet home. As much as I hate to admit it this PPD experience makes me really mad at my husband for no reason. Before I was diagnosed I would always pray and ask the Lord to take my anger away. I felt so much guilt and like the worse wife ever. This is a really hard time in our marriage. I know it's hard for my husband and we are trying to learn together. Postpartum depression can be very confusing for a couple to try and get through. One day I am okay and I'm smiling and the next day I don't want to get out of bed. I want to cry all day. I feel hopeless, unfixable, and broken. I question the medications effectiveness. I wonder when the suffering will end. I am in the beginning of PPD and I know you can't compare someones beginning of the experience with someones middle or end of depression.

You would never know it by looking at this picture of me. But going outside is a trigger. Supermom's who have it all together and stress are also triggers. Going out causes panic attacks. Lately, the task of simply getting a toddler and baby ready, bottles, snacks, myself, the diaper bag, etc are overwhelming to me. I start getting ready one hour or more before going outside and I panic the whole time. It's bad. One time my husband had to hold me and stop me. I didn't even realize what was happening to me.

 Postpartum Depression is hard on marriages. Sometimes we take things personal. Sometimes I think I have a monster in my brain and I don't know when my bad days will happen. When they do my heart feels like it's hanging by a thread, where I just want to give up life so my husband doesn't need to deal with me. 

A couple days ago we went to the Temple. My husband was in a session and I was in the family room with the children until he was done. I was just craving some answers on how to be a better wife while going through this postpartum experience. I found one of the Church's Ensign magazines and opened to an article from a lady who had cancer. As I read I felt like she understood how I was feeling. She said, "I need to remember more than my temporal self, my husband loves my soul, and this helps as I strive to love him with all my heart. We didn't make vows "until death do us part". We are partners for eternity. If we are commited and converted to keeping the promises we made in the Temple, we will be strengthened to get through any trial."

She also says, "I may have cancer but I've never experienced divorce, the death of a child, the death of a parent and other trials that affect man. We are in no position to judge others in their trials and sufferings. Not one persons' story is just like mine-not their strengths or weaknesses. We all have different trials. This life is one of testing but the test is different for all of us." (Ensign Aug 2016. Pg 58. Cancer, courage, and conversion)

Wow I thought!  This life is one of testing but the test is different for all of us. I may have postpartum depression but I've never experienced many other trials that affect other people. This is my current trial and I am trying to learn and grow even though it is a very hard time for me. My husband is here in the good and bad because he loves me.

My hope for other couples who have a husband or wife with any type of mental illness is that they will do their research! When they see their spouse act out that before getting offended they will go do their research online or ask someone who has been there.

Examples:
"My wife has anxiety. How can I help her to be less stressed out?"
"My husband has _____. And he says things like ______ . What do I do?"
My wife has depression and says I dont understand. How can I understand?"

No one is alone. Not crazy. We are each in a hard learning experience whether it's depression or something else. We shouldn't judge the trial God gives each different person.

Victoria's Story: Everyday Battle with Major Depressive Disorder

I've been debating sharing my story. A friend of mine shared hers with me and encouraged me to write mine down. She said I would help myself and others.

Well I decided it's worth it, so here it is. 

A few years ago I was diagnosed with MDD (Major Depressive Disorder) and Anxiety. As a result I also suffer with suicidal thoughts and self mutilation. It's an everyday struggle to keep going. 

I have some triggers when it comes to the anxiety but as for the depression it's an everyday thing so nothing really triggers it. I have been going through all of this for 11 years maybe more. It has been the longest time of my life. As for self mutilation (cutting), there are many reasons why I do it. But the main reason is not because I'm trying to kill myself. It is because I feel numb and empty and I would give anything just to feel anything other then that emptiness. Another reason is because of the hate and anger I have towards myself. Everyday I wish I could stop doing it, but in many ways it has saved me from doing something worse. I would not suggest ANYONE to start cutting though. I wish I could have found another way to cope, but I have a therapist and I am learning other ways to cope. I am also on medication, but I am trying to find one that works for me. When it doesn't work you need to try something else and sometimes that can take up to 8 weeks to kick in.

I'm not sharing my story to cause people to worry. I'm posting this so that if anyone out there struggling with this, they can know they are not alone. That they are loved and that you make this world brighter because you are here. Never give up! There is help out there. Take it from someone who is still in the middle of it. I know it's hard. Every day to wake up and get out of bed is a struggle. But even if you get out of bed, get dressed and lie down on the couch, that is something to celebrate. You got up, you tried. You can feel proud of yourself. I'm proud of you!! And if you feel like you can't keep going or you feel that you can't do it for yourself, do it for someone else. 

For me, I have a few people I do it for: my football kids, my friends in Utah and Montreal, my adopted families, and the biggest one of all is the smallest person in my life. Aunty Vicky loves you little one.. always and forever! I want people to know they are alone, Don't feel that no one cares because no matter where you are in this world one person does care...me! Thanks for reading. Feel free to share with your friends, share it with your kids. Start the conversation so we can get rid of the stigma surrounding mental health. There is nothing wrong with being depressed

Christopher Allen Grant's Story. Poems about his Depression.

When I was in despair several years ago I wrote these lines....

I cannot say I always shone a light upon the troubled demons of my mind,..

during lonely nights of fear and dread...

paralysed....

wishing I were dead.....

but no one knew I'd almost given up...

because only deep despair filled my cup. 

Then I took my troubles to  the Lord and soon wrote two poems back to back...this is the first....

When I was at my lowest 

and my heart was broke again....

He threw His arms around me... saying..Come! I am your friend....

I'll lift your troubles from you....every sorrow, pain and care....I only ask you love 

me and your burdens I will bear. 

And..

For every tear on Earth that's 

shed...an angel sheds one too..for in the realm where angels tread..the heavens weep with 

you...and though you think you cry alone....it simply is not true...so be of cheer and dry your

eyes...your guardian angels sympathize. 

I also wrote one about my wife ...it's called Not Sorry ....

When I was at my lowest 

and my heart was broke again...I heard an angel calling me...I'm here you have a friend....a 

comfort I could count on with words of wisdom sent and a loved I carried with me 

everywhere I went...I never meant to love you nor sorry that I did...my heart was always

open and its contents never hid..so.I throw my arms around you and whisper in your 

ear.....I'm grateful that you loved me when my heart was full of fear.

I deal with.chronic depression all the time but I don't let it define who I am or what I believe. This life is a time of trial and temptation. It is how we manage these things in our lives that matter. l am so thankful to have the Lord on my side and my family who love and support me. I hope these lines may help you too.

My Story of Hope by Shantelle Avery

I almost called this story "My Depression Story" but that sounds kind of... well... depressing.  I decided to change it to "My Story of Hope" because that's why I am sharing it-- to offer hope and peace to those trapped in the darkness of their own struggles.

I've felt these little nudges several times in the last few weeks to share my thoughts, feelings, and experiences, but I have pushed them aside every time.  Then last night I was at the General Women's Broadcast, and I knew through the burning I felt in my chest that I needed to take the time to write and express my story, because it can be a source of light and hope for someone else.  So here goes sharing something very personal to me-- my journey through depression.  It's hard to know how to write such a story as this, so bear with me as I try to express the deepest feelings in my heart.  And consider yourself warned now that this will be long!

I had experienced depression before in high school, but nothing like I did from January 2013-June 2016, the period of time when this story takes place.  I can't pinpoint exactly when it started or why it started, just that it was almost like the flipping of a switch, suddenly turning off nearly all of the light and happiness in my life.  Unfortunately, this switch flipped just a few months before I started dating my husband, so the first 2 1/2 years of our marriage were hard.  I needed him and had very little to offer in terms of emotional support.  I was not myself and I desperately wanted him to know that.  I will forever be thankful for him when I think of the long, tear-filled nights and the strength and patience he offered to me when I was in such great need.  I know for a fact that Heavenly Father provided him to me right at that time so that everything would be alright like it is now.

It was my second year of college at BYU-Idaho, and I suddenly knew no one, not a single person.  All of my friends and past roommates were either on missions or at home for their off-track.  I stayed in Rexburg for the winter semester to work, but I was so lonely.  I remember sitting in my room in the evenings when I wasn't busy working and feeling the loneliness envelope me.  I had already been so brave to go to college alone the year before, and I had met wonderful people, and now I was starting over.  For some reason, probably the depression already developing inside of me, this felt like too much for my heart to handle.  It was only a little while later when I connected with my roommates and when I met my husband, but the tears still didn't stop, even when I felt the warmth of friendship surround me.

Then on top of that, I ended up not serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints as I had planned, because I felt in my heart that it wasn't right.  This made me question all the answers I had ever received to my prayers or if what I thought I had received were even answers at all.  It also made me feel incredibly afraid of becoming a mom, because I had thought before that serving a mission would be my gospel preparation for motherhood.  I don't know why I thought that, but I did, so taking it away made me feel completely inadequate.

Only a few short weeks later, my husband and I started dating.   I didn't realize this until much later when I looked back on it, but I had dating anxiety, not the going on dates part, but the having to choose who to marry.  I was deathly afraid of making the wrong choice.  I was afraid of not seeing some "red flags" and having my marriage crumble.  With the beginning of our dating being just a few weeks after my experience of doubting my answers to prayers, I felt unable to pray to ask God if I was doing the right thing and receive an answer.  This left me an emotional mess during our dating time.  I didn't cry that often when we were together and most of the time I truly enjoyed myself while we were together, but when the nights came and we went to our separate apartments, the fear and sadness took over.  I knew everything about him was right and was exactly what I had been looking for, but my doubts in myself were overwhelming.  I had some special experiences that helped me keep moving forward, but it was so hard and definitely nothing like what I imagined it would be.  Eventually I opened up to him about my fears and doubts and he accepted them with such love and compassion.  I felt at a complete loss of words to explain the whole array of thoughts running laps through my brain, but I was able to tell him enough to feel calm for the time.  Somehow, I was able to move forward with faith and courage to keep dating and to say "yes" to getting married, even though my mind and my heart were confused about everything.

It all happened so quickly, our dating, engagement, and wedding.  It was right and we both knew it.  We felt very impressed that we needed to get married quickly.  Little did we know at that time that a beautiful, excited baby girl was ready to join our family soon, but that definitely didn't lessen the intense pain and fear I felt.

Our wedding day came and I was filled with peace while we were in the Nauvoo Temple.  I felt God's love and His approval of my life in a way that I had not felt for months.  It didn't feel super intense, but I felt it just enough.  I compare it in my mind to looking through a window at something vs. being outside and really experiencing it.  You can see all the same things through the window, but you don't get the full experience of smelling the fresh air, feeling the breeze, touching the delicate flower pedals, etc.  The window blocking my ability to fully experience everything at that time was depression.  But I felt peace, and I relied on the remembrance of those feelings of peace for weeks and months to come.

The weeks and months after I got married were very difficult for me.  I was happy in the sense that I was married to the man I loved with all my heart and we were starting a wonderful life together, but I didn't actually feel happy.  Instead, I felt sad about everything and nothing all at the same time.  He was so good to me; he took care of me, he loved me, and he expressed that love often, but I felt empty inside and often felt that I had done the wrong thing by getting married.  I felt darkness and fear and pain where I should have felt light and carefree happiness. 

Sometimes the pain would turn into panic.  It would squeeze my heart so tight that I would struggle to breathe.  It was awful, completely awful!  Once while I was working as a chemistry tutor, I started to feel this breath-stealing panic.  I had my laptop with me, so I started typing in how I felt and realized that this was a panic attack.  After knowing what to call them, I noticed that I was having several a day and never went a day without having at least one.

I didn't know how to explain what I felt to anyone and I was so afraid that if I tried they would think bad things about my husband.  After all, I was supposed to be so happy at this time in my life.  So instead of opening up to anyone, I closed the lid to my box of emotions, wrapped it in paper, and tied it with a ribbon.  I decided that no one would ever get in to know what I really felt.

Unfortunately, all of my emotions were too strong and I couldn't contain them no matter how hard I tried.  I cried every day for months.  Sometimes I would cry about how other people feel sadness and hurt and loneliness, sometimes about how inadequate I felt as a wife and a future mom, sometimes about how I was sure that Heavenly Father was so disappointed in me.   It was agonizing and exhausting trying to hide such intense, unidentified emotions.  And it took every ounce of courage and strength to open up to my husband about how I felt instead of hiding my emotions from him just like I did to the rest of the world.

One day after having a long night of crying the night before and having the residue of red, puffy eyes, an old co-worker saw me and gasped, "Shantelle, you look awful!  The light is missing from your eyes.  Is your marriage going ok?"  I was so upset and didn't know what to say.  I walked away sobbing, knowing that I had blown it.  I had let someone see the sadness I felt, the sadness that had absolutely nothing to do with my husband, and yet he was the one being blamed for it.  I felt ashamed in myself that I wasn't stronger.  It was so hard feeling emotions like these without a source to blame.  No one ever told me that depression can come on without a cause, that it's just a chemical imbalance and doesn't have to be explained, so I thought something must be wrong with my life, with me.

Despite all this sadness, I did begin to feel a deep gratitude and love for the Savior.  One morning I was biking to work and the thought came into my mind that the Savior took these awful feelings on Himself so that He could understand me right then.  I was overwhelmed as I thought about how He had taken this one awful trial on Himself, along with all the other trials I had faced and ever would face.  Then to think that He also did this for every person who has lived and who ever will live.  It was more than I could bear to comprehend and I cried the whole way to work imagining what that must have been like for Him.  I am still in awe of this.

Well, my life continued on and I continued trying to feel happy.  I occasionally really felt the happiness that I knew was trapped under the dark blanket of depression, and those times were very good.  I got into the nursing program at BYU-Idaho and felt genuinely excited.  Then I started and only did it for a week before I found out that I was pregnant, and I was super genuinely excited about that too.  Looking back, I am so glad that I got pregnant right at that time for a couple of reasons.  1) It gave me a reason to stop doing the nursing program which would have been too emotionally taxing for me at the time when I already had so little to give. 2) It gave me a source to blame my past months of emotions.  I mean, everyone talks about being emotional during pregnancy, so I could just say that's why I was feeling sad, right?  I really believe that was a huge tender mercy because it was the first step to me opening up and telling someone how I felt.

After a few weeks of intense anxiety and sadness, I decided to talk to the bishop at my church.  I honestly felt like he was the only one who could calm my heart since he could help me know that I was not failing at life, that I had not committed some grievous sin, and that Heavenly Father was not deeply disappointed in me.  I visited with him several times in the coming weeks and over time he was able to help my heart find some peace and calm from the storms that were raging.  I am so thankful to this day that I was blessed with a wonderful bishop at that time who was there for me when I needed comfort and peace.

Because of dropping out of the nursing program and switching my major to health science, I was able to meet another wonderful person who played a crucial role in my journey.  Her name is Amy and she was doing an internship at the same nursing home I was at.  From the first day we met, I knew that I needed her friendship and that she would be a rock in my life.  Unfortunately for her but fortunately for me, she was able to relate to my struggles in a very real way, not because of her own experiences but because of the experiences of a close family member.  I trusted her and opened up to her more than anyone else besides my husband and my bishop.  Heavenly Father definitely sent her as an angel to me when I was in great need.

I went to a regular OB/GYN appointment for my pregnancy and told the doctor that I was feeling depressed and would like to try taking a medication to help.  The fact that I did this showed just how hard it was, because up until that time, taking a medication for depression would have been a last resort.  In some ways it was.  I felt so desperate for relief for my tattered, bruised, torn, shattered heart.  I didn't know how much more it could take.  I started taking a medication but it did little to nothing to help.  I kept taking it without telling anyone that it wasn't working and accepted the fact that I would feel sad for the rest of my life.  I didn't know how I would get through the next day, let alone the rest of my life, but I accepted that somehow I would do it.

A few short months later, Brooklyn was born.  The moment I met her, I was able to feel real love and happiness and thankfulness for her.  That feeling lasted only until we got home from the hospital, when everything suddenly came crashing down.  It might have felt more like it a crash because of the emotional high I had just experienced, but it really was a new level of intensity that I had not before experienced.  Now I had the addition of someone who depended on me, someone who needed love and support even more than I desperately needed it.  I was completely overwhelmed at my role as a mom.  Partly because it is such a sacred role and I knew that, but also because I never knew my husband's mom and so everything I heard about how perfect or wonderful she was placed a huge burden on my shoulders, a burden that was impossible to carry because of how irrational it was.  I cannot even begin to count the number of hours I cried in fear that I would never be able to be a good mom to my sweet girl.  I'm so glad for the progress I've made and that I never have to go back to that scary time again!

After Brooklyn was born, I was able to go back in to the doctor and try another depression medication.  This one did wonders.  I actually started to feel happy again, real genuine happiness.  I felt energy that I hadn't felt in over 1 1/2 years and I started to feel a little bit like myself again.  I still had my moments of hurt, especially when I would forget to take the medicine or would refuse to take it because I wanted to be happy on my own, but it really did lift my spirits and give me hope.

I started getting brave and sharing with others that I struggled with depression.  I felt like I had a good network of supportive, loving friends who I could turn to when I needed help.  Then we moved to Iowa and my group of friends was gone.  I had been doing so well, but this was one giant step back.  Once again, I felt like I had to hide how I felt so that no one would know that I took an anti-depressant and that I struggled with depression.

It got so bad that I stopped eating all of my meals except dinner and often would do nothing all day except nap and try to do something little with Brooklyn.  I could hardly function.  Once my husband would get home from work, I could function again because he motivated me through his love and support (most often without even saying a word), but during the day I was practically useless.

After a couple months of living in Iowa, everything got worse.  I remember so perfectly the evening when I was sitting on the couch next to my husband after we had a little disagreement.  I had been thinking for the last couple of weeks that I didn't want to go on, but after that disagreement, I made the decision that I would end my life the next day.  I was sitting there thinking about how I would do it and what time so that my husband could get home shortly after to take care of our daughter.  I still get so emotional and scared thinking that I reached the lowest of lows and really contemplated something so serious.  He could see that I was upset and asked what was wrong.  For some reason, I actually told him what I was thinking.  I told him that I wanted to die and that I was sitting there at that moment planning it all out.

Of course he was worried, just as I was.  We talked for a long time and I promised him that I would hold on through the next day no matter how hard it was.  He was an absolute saint and did basically everything for me during that time.  We set up a schedule for my days and even made a points system to help me have some motivation to stay productive and to do the basic things that I had been neglecting.

But still, the thoughts of death continued every day, lingering in my mind from the moment I woke up to the moment I fell asleep, even on the fairly good days.  I wanted to die, because then I could be a memory to my husband and daughter and they could remember only the good things about me.  I felt like I wanted to be gone so that I wouldn't do more "damage" than I felt I had already done.  I was scared that Brooklyn and our other future kids would find out that I had taken an anti-depressant and that I had struggled and they wouldn't love me.  I was intensely afraid of not measuring up to my husband's "expectations" and not being everything that Brooklyn needed.  I was sure in my mind that she would harshly compare me to others someday and would be disappointed that I was her mom instead of someone else.  All of these sound so irrational now, but at the time, they were all too real.

I didn't know how to fight these thoughts when they were so active in my mind.  It was more than I felt I could bear, and definitely more than I could fight off with just positive thinking.  After 5 months of battling and fighting my own thoughts, my husband and I decided that I needed to go see a counselor.  The morning of my appointment, I gathered together all the courage I had and wrote a post on Facebook about my struggles.  I was overwhelmed with love and support and knew that everything would turn out alright in the end.  

The counseling appointment went well and I continued going to counseling for several more weeks.  It felt so good to be able to tell someone everything about how I felt and to know that I wasn't being judged or criticized.  I felt safe with her and with other friends who shared their struggles after my post on Facebook.

After several counseling appointments, I was able to stop seeing the counselor and to move forward with some things that had been causing me great turmoil.  I was able to put the past behind me and look forward to a bright future.

In July, I was even able to go off of my anti-depressant and have been off of it since.  That is such a huge thing for me given my long and painful journey and my dependence on that medication after having Brooklyn.

Right now, in this moment, I feel so many things:

• Emotional about telling my story
• Slightly scared about putting my deepest emotions out there for others to read
• Thankful for a Savior who truly understands everything we go through
• Thankful for a husband who has never given up on me and who has supported me even when I was incredibly frustrating and irrational and impossible to understand
• Thankful for a daughter who has brought so much light into my life and who loves me despite my imperfections
• Thankful for the tender mercies God has given to me to help me, especially my friends and family
• Thankful for my life
• Thankful for medication
• Thankful for depression which has helped me to see and feel and understand things that I never would have known otherwise

http://findingjoythroughdepression.blogspot.ca/

My Story by Meghann Dupont

My Story With Postpartum Depression 

by: Meghann Dupont

I am sharing my story to raise awareness and let you know that you are not alone. 

I was happily a new mother -- AGAIN. My husband and I pray, ponder and plan when to have our babies. Our toddler would be two years old when the next baby came. I had a lot of reasons to be happy: A helpful and loving husband, a calling at church, amazing friends, I'm a stay-at-home mom, I have a beautiful daughter and now pregnant with our second baby girl.

I had my second C Section at 39 weeks on July 18, 2016 and the healing went well. We brought her home and my mother-in-law was there to help. Everything was going fine. My husband was home for the next 6 months of paternity leave. I went through the baby blues and then it ended at about 10 days postpartum. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere one month after giving birth I was feeling so emotional. Not just emotional, but sickly emotional. Anger and tears seemed to be the new me. I was never mad at my baby. I loved her since I got pregnant and even more when I first saw her. But I started crying for hours every single day. I stopped wanting to go out. If we did go out and have fun as soon as we got home it was like it never happened and I crashed. Things I use to think were fun were not enjoyable anymore. I didn't want to get out of bed and I didn't want to take care of anything in the house or anyone. I didn't want anyone to visit. Once I invited the sister missionaries over to dye my hair but was so overcome with sadness that I would cancel. Sisters at church would invite me over for play dates and I didn't want to go. When my husband would do something fun for himself I would cry. I couldn't understand how he could have joy and I couldn't.

I blamed my husband for my feelings of suffering. How awful to think it got to that.

My poor husband had no idea what was going on inside me. I didn't let him see it. I didn't let anyone see it. He would just see my anger (something I now know is called postpartum rage) and emotions. And he wondered why I had changed. He would ask me why I was not the woman he once knew. He would send me videos on how to love your husband again. He thought I didn't love him anymore.

So we were going through all this still not knowing I have Postpartum Depression and anxiety.

I was feeling hopeless. I felt like my family would be better off without me. I thought why would they want someone so useless around them. I didn't realize what was happening to me. 

 I was also stressed while we struggle with our toddlers severe speech delay, waiting for a team of specialists to do a Global Evaluation this December and the neurosurgeon to see how to fix her curved spine. While I expressed this and my feelings of helplessness one day to a friend of mine mentioned Postpartum Depression. I was thinking.. what's that? Me? So I Googled what it was just to see. 

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/postpartum-depression-facts/postpartum-depression-brochure_146657.pdf

"Postpartum depression is a mood disorder that can affect women after childbirth. Mothers with postpartum depression experience feelings of extreme sadness, anxiety, and exhaustion that may make it difficult for them to complete daily care activities for themselves or for others.

On that website I found what causes postpartum depression, the symptoms, and how to know if you have postpartum depression.

Even after reading this and feeling I related to everything. I still couldn't see that postpartum depression was what is happening to me. We are the hardest on ourselves. 

One day my husband and I went to the Temple and as I sat in the Celestial Room I felt so sad, broken, unfixable. I felt I was drowning. The most peaceful room on this earth and I didn't feel better. Can you imagine? That should of been a red flag, but I still didn't see it.

I was crying every day for hours, angry, wanted to die every day and that consumed my thoughts. My chest felt heavy like a ton of bricks. I was barely hanging on for my 6 week postpartum check up. I asked myself a couple times if it could be Postpartum Depression, but I said no because I don't hate my baby, I don't want to hurt my baby. I just hate me. But I didn't know that was still a red flag. 

On the morning of my 6 week checkup. I was crying on my bedroom floor for about two hours and I felt so awful. The children were with my husband and grandma. I said a prayer and I said, "Heavenly Father, I don't know why I'm crying all the time. I feel horrible. I feel like a horrible wife and mother. Why am I not fun like my other friends who have kids? My heart feels like heavy bricks. If the doctor doesn't give me medication for whatever this suffering is I'm not doing this anymore." 

As I mentioned my husband had no idea what I was going through because I didn't tell him my thoughts.  I tried to hide my pain. And I hid it well on the outside. After I finished my prayer I washed my face and got ready to go. We went to my appointment to see if my C Section was healing fine. My Gynecologist asked me how I was feeling and I broke down crying. I told him everything and he said, "it sounds like you have a wicked Postpartum Depression". He congratulated me for speaking up. I didn't feel courageous. I felt weak and alone. Only 15% of moms get PPD and he said it's not something to hide. It is a very serious mental illness, but it can be treated. 

Within minutes I was sent to meet with a Psychiatrist at the Emergency Section of the Mental Health Hospital as that is the fastest way to see someone my doctor said. My husband drove me over. As my husband and I sat across from the Psychiatrist I told him everything. My husband was in shock. He didn't know. I didn't even know I was depressed. Who? Me? I have Postpartum Depression? I thought you had to hate your baby or want to hurt them. But I don't want to do that so it can't be it.  *Red Flag* The doctor explained the difference between sadness and depression and the difference between worry and anxiety to us. I wondered, "why would I hate me when 3 months ago I loved me?" "where did this come from?" Untreated, and unknown depression could have more deeply affected my Celestial Marriage because we didn't understand why I was an emotional angry crying mess! This was WAY WORSE than pregnancy hormones or anything I've ever been through.   There were days I couldn't even get out of bed and my loving husband had to lift me up and carry me outside to try and do something fun. We went on a few vacations and to Palmyra, New York with the kids to try and have some fun. I had therapy and am on antidepressants now. I never thought I could feel better. But on the medication so far I am feeling better. I hated the idea of medication but the Lord would expect me to get the medical help I need. I know the Savior knows what all our trials feel like. He even  knows what Depression feels like so you and I can rely on him. I also don't know what I'd do without my husband. He is a good man.

What I've learned so far:

*No one would choose depression. No one would choose to suffer like that.
*Men can have postpartum depression too.

*Postpartum rage exists

*Stress is one of my triggers.

*Some of the trials we face are going to be unpredictable and you're not going to know how to handle them.

*I am learning that this isn't about overcoming but about becoming a better person in the furnace of your afflictions.

*It's important to not judge others or people will never be able to talk and get the support they are seeking.

*To have more empathy.

*I've learned the Lord would expect you to get the medical help you need.

*It's okay to be on antidepressants.

*It's nobody's fault. 

*I am loved.

*I am not the only person suffering with Postpartum Depression.

*It can happen to anyone.

*It doesn't care what your social, family, financial or spiritual situation is.

*It's okay to say I feel better on the medication.

*It's okay to share my story in case it can help someone else.

*The Savior could of known our trials by revelation, but he chose to feel them instead, so he would know how to help (succor) us.

"We all experience trauma in this life. It could be the death of a loved one, heartbreak, a physical ailment, or a mental or emotional disorder. Life is hard, and sometimes we forget how difficult it is to be a human being in this world. It is so important that we support each other through these trials and processes. We need to exercise sympathy for those around us.

 Life’s trials and difficulties are overcome with time, patience, and a lot of faith and trust in God. Overnight miracles rarely happen, not because God doesn’t love us or want us to be happy, but because they rob us of the lessons that life’s difficulties have the potential to teach us. Relying on God and placing Him at the center of our lives is much easier in theory than in practice, but the Atonement of Jesus Christ is the ultimate solution to life’s challenges." - Michael Rex

Rough days even on the medication

Monday and Tuesday this week were my first rough days since the medication kicked in about 2.5 weeks ago. I didn't even know that was possible on medication. (Don't let that discourage you from getting help! It really helps with the crying and other PPD side effects) Oh, the things I am learning!

I woke up with my toddler who decided breakfast was going to be very early. We did some painting and we let daddy sleep in because he woke up to feed the baby. Around 10:30am, I suddenly felt like I was crashing. That is my word for describing that feeling in your chest when your heart feels like it weighs a ton and it's only dangling there by a thread. I always feel like I need to lay down when this happens. 
Everyone was awake at this time, so I went to bed and layed down. If there was a trigger I don't know what it was. I am still learning my triggers. I felt like I was starting to drown and when I was about to start crying for no apparent reason, my husband came in the room. I told him he didn't understand and I just wanted to be left alone. I was irritable. But from experience, he doesn't let me just lay there to drown in my emotions. 

He gathered the children and tried to have a little party on the bed. They were singing and making the baby dance and laugh. They jumped around and then our toddler came beside me and caressed my face. But I just couldn't smile. Oh, depression is evil what it does to you. It numbs out any feelings of love. My husband just couldn't give up. He did this for about an hour! Then he put the baby and our toddlers face against his as if he was going to take a picture and said, "honey, look at your family". As I looked at them I saw they loved me. The baby with her huge eyes, daddy with his  concerned but loving eyes, and our toddler with her lets sing and dance every second of the day eyes. So I rolled over and watched them. I started feeling better.
 The rest of the day was okay, but I was still feeling like a ball of emotions. 

I don't know how my husband does it sometimes, but I do know that he loves our family. He always helps out, but as I am trying to count my blessings right now I see he did the laundry, all the bottles, all the baby feedings yesterday, swept the floors, tidied up, put the laundry out to dry, and entertained the children.  The crock pot has also been working overtime and sometimes friends of ours bring us meals.  

Before bed we talked and he reminded me how much he loves me and that he would take care of the baby so I can rest. 

Heavenly Father blessed me with a good man and amazing friends and family.
I am thankful for this trial. It is teaching me empathy for others who struggle too. It is teaching me how precious life is, even if some days I don't feel that it is precious. Deep down I know it is but sometimes the depression puts up that wall between me and the good around me. Joy exists because Jesus Christ exists. 
On good days I feel peace.