Today’s Warrior Mom is Lindsay H. She was and still is very frustrated that there’s so little information out there about pregnancy depression, also called antenatal depression or prenatal depression.
It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when my world was turned upside down by pregnancy depression and anxiety. Somewhere between the not-so-pleasant thoughts of aborting my baby and the suffocating panic attacks I realized that this was not your average pregnancy. Something was definitely wrong, but wait, I was STILL PREGNANT. There was nothing postpartum about it. Everything I had read about depression or anxiety related to having babies talked about feelings after the birth, not during what was supposed to be a euphoric time of prenatal massages and glowing skin.
Pregnancy depression, also known as antenatal depression, is like trying to run a marathon with a broken leg. I felt like I had ruined my life by getting pregnant again and that I would never be the same. I just didn’t understand. I had always wanted a second child, but as soon as I saw that extra blue line, I panicked. Tears flowed like rivers and anxiety struck me like lightning. My hopes of feeling better dwindled every time I saw a new doctor who didn’t know what to do with me. I couldn’t find anyone who specialized in antenatal depression and was therefore lumped in with everyone else, being prescribed antidepressants as if taking medication during pregnancy was supposed to help relieve my anxieties. Were they kidding?
I was told to exercise and keep busy, not an easy feat when your belly is expanding and you can’t walk twenty feet without your back aching. Doctors kept assuring me that my condition was temporary, but that prognosis made me feel like no one really understood what I was going through. I felt there was no way this condition was temporary. As far as I was concerned, it was my new reality and I couldn’t bear to live in it. After trying medication with no success, I was convinced that my baby was going to suffer for the rest of his life because I wasn’t healthy enough to provide a good start for him. Suicidal thoughts poked their ugly little head in every now and then, with my husband hiding sharp objects when he went to work and calling me constantly throughout the day to make sure I was still breathing.
Trying to hide my condition was as exhausting as dealing with the problem itself. Our friends and family knew something wasn’t right but I was able to chalk it up to mood swings and fatigue. “Just relax and take a nap,” is all anyone knew to say. Little did they know that sleep was something I had lost along with my mind, and relaxation was just a muddy pool for my negative thoughts to swim in. I felt hopeless and alone and terrified.
When the day arrived for “it” to be born, I had mixed emotions. I was incredibly relieved that my nightmare of a pregnancy was going to be over, but incredibly nervous that I would not connect with this thing that had spent months inside of me. I prayed for a happy ending to a miserable story, but I didn’t get it. The day the baby was born, I was overcome with unexpected joy and thought I had finally crossed the finish line, about to get my medal, but a week later I fell once again into the deep, dark depths of depression and anxiety and realized that having the baby was only a pit stop along the path.
My baby felt like a stranger who I couldn’t wait to pass on to someone else. I didn’t want him, which initiated an immense feeling of guilt and sadness. I kept wanting to run away from a life that I used to love. My desperation grew by the day and I didn’t believe I would ever get better … until I did.
With the help of medication, therapy and time, I began to realize that my baby was not the problem. What I had was pregnancy depression, a real medical condition that, although still scarcely understood, is treatable. My tears began to dry up and the tools I was given in therapy finally started to make sense. I can now look at Kyle (yes, he has a name … no longer an “it”) and know that he and I will forever be bonded by the tumultuous journey we endured together. I truly believe he is meant to be here with me. His smile melts my heart and his chubby little fingers wrap around mine as if we are connected for life. And while I still sometimes feel sadness toward my pregnancy and Kyle’s early days, I can find comfort in knowing that Kyle is a beautiful, healthy little boy who fought his way into my heart.
As far as the marathon goes, we are getting closer and closer to the finish line, broken leg and all.
~ Lindsay Hays
Photo credit: © Bianca de Blok – Fotolia.com
For more stories on pregnancy depression, try:
* On How It Feels to Be Depressed During Pregnancy
* The Black Hole of Antenatal Depression
* On Being Depressed & Pregnant
* Robbed of the Joy of Pregnancy
About Katherine Stone
Katherine Stone
I was surprised how much it effected me. I never had severe PPD & I bet I was teetering on the edge of baby blues & very mild PPD…but it did effect me. So much happens so fast…it’s just hard to handle it all {a lot of the time}.
I just had a second baby & have been more ‘aware’ of the possibility this time around. It’s helpful to read articles & sites like these just to understand that it’s real, everyone experiences it differently & no one is immune. It just happens. Thanks for this site & great article!
….brings tears to my eyes. thank you for sharing. you write so beautifully. God bless all of us who are so willing and open to share our terrifying experiences. Much love from an ongoing PPD/PPA survivor…recovering…daily. xoxo
You just shared my story….for real. I also did not receive a diagnosis. I had been sailing through my surprise pregnancy, but then was treated with disdain by my doctors when things took a sudden turn. I had never heard of antenatal depression either, until it happened to me of course. I was left to fend for myself and had to do all of the scary research on my own. It was awful beyond words. I’d never felt so alone, hopeless and terrified either. But I also have a beautiful little gift that found her way into my heart. I am so thankful to have made it through that unbelievably dark time and I’m so thankful that you did too. Thank you so much for sharing!
Lindsay – there are many of us out here! I too suffered from the moment I discovered I was pregnant with my third child (who I had also ‘always wanted’). My husband begged me to talk to the OB before I scheduled an abortion. I’m glad I did, though I still did not believe that I would ever feel better. After a big thumbs up from my children’s pediatrician, who happened to be very well studied on current on ante- and postnatal medications, I began anti-depressants in week 6 of my pregnancy. The next 6 weeks were the longest of my life – my overriding memory of it now is me in the fetal position while several members of my family took charge of my two girls, then 5 and 2. I finally began to feel better in week 12, and then started therapy which continued until my delivery date. I remained on medication in hopes of avoiding postpartum depression, and found I was better able to handle a newborn and able to sleep at night between nursings. It was easily my best newborn experience, and I was fully able to love and enjoy my baby boy. He is now a healthy, happy 8 year-old, so much so that we jokingly called him the ‘serotonin baby’. I’m so grateful for my husband for persuading (dragging) me to the doctor for help. I frequently think about the fact that I almost missed having him – and that has helped me appreciate all of my children more, even during the crazy bad days that can happen with three kids. I now spend some time volunteering for my local PSI warmline, and am helping with a support group nearby (I am the ‘after’ person
. I always emphasize that depression can happen ANYTIME, pregnancy, or post-pregnancy, and everyone can get better with help. Thank you for sharing your story!!