I thought I had all the facts about giving birth, having a newborn, and what postpartum would look like. I went to every prenatal visit with a list of questions. I took classes on exercise during pregnancy and saw a pelvic floor physical therapist.

I took a birthing class at the hospital I was going to deliver at. I bought my ice pack pads and adult diapers. I was confident that I was as prepared as I possibly could be before my due date.

I was very wrong. I hope my story might help you feel less alone, and if you are struggling mentally, I hope it encourages you to get help.

This is my story of postpartum depression and anxiety.

I THOUGHT THE RECOVERY ROOM WAS FOR RECOVERING

I delivered my healthy baby boy at 140 AM on Monday, June 15, 2020. Forty-five minutes (and 28 stitches) later, I found myself eating a turkey sandwich and happily nursing my baby for the first time. Everything seemed to be going okay.

We were transferred to the recovery room around 7 AM where I spent the next two days doing next to no recovering. Recovery requires sleep, and that just wasn’t happening.

On Wednesday, it was time to go home, see my dog, sleep in my own bed, and see my parents (masked, of course). I should have been excited, right? Well, I wasn’t.

I WAS OVERWHELMED, AND NOT WITH JOY

I was nervous about leaving the safety net of experts at the hospital. And mostly, I was anxious about the precious little life we were now solely responsible for feeding, nurturing, and keeping alive.

I almost had a full blown panic attack when we walked in the door of our house. I immediately put the car seat down and couldn’t even look at my baby. I didn’t know what to do.

I suddenly felt trapped. I was so overwhelmed, and not with joy. The place I just walked into didn’t feel like home anymore.

IT’S JUST THE BABY BLUES

All I wanted the first night home was to sleep, but had this dread that it just wasn’t going to happen. Well, guess what? I couldn’t have slept more than 1 hour that first night. I had this bad feeling that it wasn’t just a fluke; I was never going to sleep again.

From there, the days progressed slowly. We had a great baby. He cried when he was hungry, nursed well, pooped, then slept again. I, on the other hand, was not doing well.

My anxiety seemed to be growing by the hour, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I was anxious about. Night after night I could not sleep.

I got most of my “sleep” from 7-10 PM and 7-10 AM when my husband took the baby 2 floors away from me. I spent my days waking up, nursing my baby, then passing him off immediately so I could go attempt another inevitably unsuccessful nap. I wasn’t bonding with my baby and I just felt drained and empty.

I panicked about the future and feared I made a terrible mistake. I felt like a terrible mom. I would talk to my friends and family who would assure me that it was just the baby blues and the feelings would pass.

MY OWN PERSONAL PRISON

During the day, I barely ate and I rarely showered. I didn’t feel like reading, visiting with family, watching movies, or doing any of the things I used to enjoy. Every evening, my anxiety would mount as nighttime approached.

Every night as I was crying and nursing my baby, I would google “what’s the difference between postpartum depression and the baby blues.” I’d message my mom friends to see if they were feeling the same.

I’d finish nursing and go back to bed and lie awake crying, waiting for the baby to wake up for the next feeding. If I slept, it was so light it was almost like that stage right before you actually fall asleep. Every noise would jolt me awake and I’d start the cycle over again.

I started thinking of the nursery as my own personal prison. I couldn’t find peace or happiness. I just kept telling myself, “It’s just the baby blues. Hold on, it will get better.”

IT WASN’T GETTING BETTER

I was about 1.5 weeks postpartum the first time my husband heard me crying so hard that he had to sprint upstairs to make sure we were both okay. Nothing particularly bad had happened. My baby, who had reflux, was just having a bad feeding. But to me, it was devastating.

Even though I hated breastfeeding, I truly felt like it was the only thing of value I could do for my baby. I felt like a bad mom in every other aspect. Every time we had an issue or it didn’t go well I felt like a complete failure.

This wasn’t the last time my husband had to sprint upstairs to check on us. Sometimes it was a bad nap, sometimes it was breastfeeding, sometimes it was caused by absolutely nothing. I am sure it was exhausting for him, but I couldn’t stop and I couldn’t control it.

I felt worthless; I couldn’t take care of my baby adequately and I was creating added stress for my husband.

But it was just the baby blues, right?? It will get better...

“NO HONEY, THAT IS NOT NORMAL”

It was Friday, June 26th, just 11 days after having my baby, that I called my OBs office. I hadn’t slept more than 4 hours in the last 24 hours and I was lying in bed trying to nap, not able to sleep. I told the triage nurse I was sad, anxious, and desperate for sleep because I couldn’t sleep while the baby slept.

I asked if that was normal. I was embarrassed. I thought I was calling too early and that it was probably just the baby blues, and they would wonder why I was calling.

The nurse’s response was, “no honey, that’s not normal.” The nurse scheduled me for the next available appointment at 730 AM on Monday (after making sure I wasn’t in danger of harming myself or the baby).

I felt this wave of relief. Maybe I wasn’t overthinking this. Maybe I didn’t need to feel like this.

I went to the doctor’s on Monday and was diagnosed with postpartum depression and postpartum anxiety. I was put on Zoloft that day and started my long road to recovery.

It was 2 weeks before I started feeling some relief from the depression. By 8 weeks the depression, hopelessness, and endless crying were mostly gone. I was finally able to bond with my sweet, sweet baby boy.

It took me another 6 months (until around Christmas) to realize that my anxiety, however, was still not under control. Bedtime was still a trigger for me and I had a hard time being out of the house past 6 or 7 PM. I worked with my psychiatrist who added Wellbutrin to the mix.

On Zoloft and Wellbutrin, I FINALLY felt like ME again. I still get angry and struggle with motherhood sometimes, but I feel NORMAL.

WHERE I AM NOW, OVER 2 YEARS LATER

When I was struggling trying to get pregnant again, I decided to go off Zoloft and Wellbutrin. My psychiatrist and midwife encouraged me to stay on the medication, but I just didn’t want anything to impact my chances.

But the good news is, I am lucky and have done very well off the medication. This isn’t me encouraging you to go off medicine; if it’s working for you, KEEP GOING! I plan to go back on the third trimester of this pregnancy, to set myself up as well as possible for my next postpartum experience.

My entire postpartum recovery ignited this passion in me for maternal mental health and postpartum recovery.

It’s why I became a personal training, pre/postnatal exercise specialist, and mobility trainer. I now spend my down time educating and helping postpartum people understand that they deserve to be happy, they deserve to invest in their recovery, and that they deserve to be pain free.

Follow me for daily tips and information on my Instagram account @postpartumstrength. E-mail me questions at petsoapersonaltraining@gmail.com. I am here to help you.

SOME RESOURCES FOR YOU:

If you feel you are struggling with your mental health, you should reach out to your doctor or a medical professional ASAP. There are also a number of great free resources for you. You can call Postpartum Support International 24/7:

Call 1-800-944-4773 (4PPD) OR

Text in English: 800-944-4773
Text en Español: 971-203-7773

Here is some basic info on difference between Baby Blues and PPD according to the American Pregnancy Association:

Lastly, here is a helpful infographic on all PMADs from postpartum.net:

I am always here for questions and to provide help. You can find me at:

@postpartumstrength on instagram

Or e-mail me at petosapersonaltraining@gmail.com