Here is my tribute to the classic 9 months in versus 9 months out, or in my case 39 weeks and 4 days:
I could let you examine both pictures to death and let them speak a thousand words, but there is something these pictures can't tell you. First let's look at the obvious. My world with and without a baby. Two very very different things. Back then you'll notice how dolled up I was, the classic 'bump' dress, hair do, and even a necklace! Wait, what's a necklace again? By the way hallelujah my hair has grown out, am I right? In the here and now pic you will notice that I am in exercise clothes, while the 9 month old is in his pajamas brushing his teeth. I love this picture. It is real, it tells my story.
We had just gotten home from playing pickleball. Thank goodness for that too, because it gave me a reason to finally get dressed and out of the house. Then after playing I frantically ran to the store to buy eggs for dinner; something I had just about the whole day to do. Yes it was a breakfast dinner. No shame. While at the store, my mind is back. I had my pickleball-outside-having-fun high, and then "it" came crashing down on me again. All the while Levi is at home getting baby ready for bed.
After 9 months of having a child, I thought I had passed the window of getting postpartum depression/anxiety (PPD/A). However, for the last couple of weeks I have felt numb. My case is a lot more minor than what I have read and heard about, because my numbness is only every so often, and doesn't stick around for days at a time, usually not even hours at a time.
It wasn't until I had expressed my feelings to Levi that I started wondering if I had PPD/A. Sunday morning Levi told me he watched the new Mormon Message (watch that here if you haven't seen it, it's amazing and well worth the time: https://www.lds.org/mentalhealth?lang=eng) by Elder Holland about mental illnesses. I had seen this a few months ago when it first came out and told Levi to watch it, but he didn't think about it until Sunday morning. Then in Relief Society something strange happens. Aubry says, "There will be a special speaker today," and proceeds to introduce a brother from our ward. I am very curious and excited to see what he has to say. He starts out by saying that he is no expert on mental illness, but that he is a survivor. He has experience. He can relate! After this quick self intro, he shows the Mormon Message by Elder Holland about mental illness. I start to watch it, trying to keep baby in my lap and continually grabbing the toy he is dropping on the floor.
Their words start to hit me hard.
This is exactly how I have been feeling! Then it hits me even further, no denying it. I have postpartum depression. No doctor has confirmed this, but I feel deep down that it's true. There is a peace and a joy that immediately follows this realization; I am not crazy! There is an explanation for why I don't feel much. There is a name for it! There are survivors, there are people who can relate to me, and people to whom I can relate! I am near tears but quickly brought back to reality as my baby starts to get really loud and distracting. So I take him out. This was the hardest part for me, not being able to hear the rest of the lesson that is clearly just for me. But I leave and take that peace and joy with me, holding on for dear life.
Levi and I get in the car to go home and I immediately tell him my newfound discovery. He says, "I have been thinking the same thing." And all I can do is be happy. Simply, and perfectly happy. He responded perfectly, and now I feel like I can understand my husband and what he has gone through. Up until now I only had compassion on those who have experienced depression and anxiety, but now I can relate. I have experienced it. No matter how minor it is, I have experienced the feelings described in the video, described by my husband, by my family members, my friends, those I taught on my mission. Finally, I get it!
This moment of complete happiness is short-lived. I am forced back into my reality and the pressure to deal with my discovery hits me along with a long list of questions. How long will this last? What am I supposed to do? Will this happen every time I have a baby? Why is it happening so late? I turn to my sisters for answers. They know everything. (; They say a lot, but most importantly they give me hope. That glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. That knowledge that all will be well. I am so lucky I have them to turn to in this time of need.
This picture means a lot to me and it probably does to you, now that I have shared my story. I could have taken this picture anytime during that day. I could have gotten dolled up, put on the same 'bump' dress, fixed my greasy pickleball-playing hair, you can forget about that necklace though. Instead, as I am making dinner and feeling depressed about life and my house and the meal I am preparing because they all "aren't good enough," I remember that we have to take that picture! So I rush into the room while Levi is getting baby ready for bed and ask him to take my picture with baby because tomorrow it will be too late. It has to be 39 weeks and 4 days on the dot. By the way since I procrastinated, it happened to be snapped right about the same exact time our baby was born...timing couldn't have been more perfect.
I am making my way to a better me, slowly but surely. Some days it's easier, and others I am an absolute mess. But I try! I do what I can because I love Levi, I love my baby, and I love myself. Each day is a new day. Try harder to be a little better because the little things are the big things in disguise. Although it was therapeutic to write this, I hope it has helped someone else trying to survive through PPD/A. The first step is admitting it to yourself, the second is sharing your story, trust me it helps! So here is the second step to becoming a better, and more whole, me. Hopefully step three will come quick. Wish me luck!
