Podcast

paula’s story

We are pregnant for three trimesters, and everyone and their mother can give you detailed information about each one. But after we bring our baby home, the hormones, emotions and mood swings don't just vanish into thin air; all that is still very much present during what is now called the fourth trimester. Before I gave birth, I heard “fourth-trimester blues” or “baby blues” but thought it was directly linked to post-partum depression. Remembering when I first came home with my girls, both times, my emotions felt heightened; everything felt stronger and just more. More tears, more anxiety, more joy, more.

If you listened to our podcast on Bringing Baby Home, you will remember how overwhelmingly in love I felt when I brought Maya home and what a foreign feeling that was to me because she was my first.

Similarly, when Maddie was born, I felt extremely protective of her because she was so tiny, and I never realized how much she depended on me to survive. In both cases, I didn't experience postpartum depression, but baby blues, I think, were definitely in the air, and in retrospect, I can think of a few reasons why.

First and foremost, the hormones; I'm not sure exactly what happens, but something definitely happens to our bodies postpartum. I mean, we just created life; that's no small undertaking.

Second, I think there was inevitable mourning of my old life, with all the joy I felt; there was also some sadness as I realized the change, a shift, a new chapter beginning and an old one ending. New thoughts passed through my head: will I ever feel free again? Free from this overwhelming love and constant worry?

Third, as I mentioned before, my babies depend on me to survive, eat, sleep, and get changed. I was now responsible for a little human, and there was no room for mistakes. So I thought. The pressure was almost tangible, the anxiety of whether I was doing this right or doing it the best way because the best way was the only way for me.

All these feelings got juxtaposed one on top of the other and would pile up, not to mention thinking about a toddler and her feelings the second time around. The mental load was overflowing my glass that was already too full, all while asking myself, is this what adulting looks like?

vanessa’s story

Vanessa instantly relates to the same feelings I experienced postpartum. One of them in particular, which she explains that she felt very strongly, was postpartum anxiety. She describes it as a debilitating sense of anxiety for most days and for most of the day.

“it was a blanket sense of anxiety…”

Because she couldn’t pinpoint what was giving her this sense of uneasiness, it was harder for her to talk herself out of it. She explains that if she worried she couldn’t care for her baby today, she could de-escalate the anxiety by playing the tape forward. She tells herself she will feed the baby, change the baby, love the baby and prove herself capable of caring for the baby. But that wasn't the case; the anxiety would permeate every thought and every task and feel infinite.

In retrospect, Vanessa identifies that part of that anxiety came from the fact that in the newborn days, so much rested on her shoulders while not getting much rest herself. Although she admits that her husband couldn’t have been more present, he couldn’t feed the baby as she was breastfeeding, and so much of that time was about feeding.

“i felt like i was the end-all be-all…”

Vanessa shares that she felt lonely because she was the only one carrying the weight of being so dependent on, trapped with no freedom outside this new role. The combination of the lack of sleep and feeling so needed created this tornado of anxiety and uneasiness. So, how did she know she wasn’t suffering from pos-partum depression? Vanessa admits that she should have maybe dug a little deeper, and perhaps she would have been diagnosed. She did say that upon her departure from the hospital, where she had an emergency c-section, she filled out a questionnaire about her well-being and mental health, which gave the healthcare professionals a score. That score was never shared with her, but they deemed it necessary to call her to follow up. At home, Vanessa did receive that call from a nurse where she answered more questions about her state, and the nurse thought it would be a good idea to schedule more regular calls. At no point did she ever suggest pointing Vanessa in the direction of finding resources on postpartum depression; her role was strictly one of evaluation, and as time went on, we can only assume that Vanessa started getting better scores as her calls came to an end.

“i did experience lows like i have never EXPERIENCED before…”

Upon sharing that her lows were very low, I am interested to know what Vanessa’s day-to-day looked like. She shares that she remembers crying at the drop of a hat for the most insignificant reason but that it wasn’t the crying that really impacted her. It was the anger. She felt angry, angry at the sense of losing herself, not knowing what she was doing, thinking that she wasn’t suited to be a mother, culminating in despair. More importantly, she couldn’t see how this desperation would pass and that this state was her new reality.

“i felt like i was in a black hole, and i couldn’t see how i was going to get out of it…”

Vanessa explains how this misdirected anger manifested itself in her daily life. An example is when her husband asked to go rock climbing for two hours, and she blew a gasket. Why? Because she felt it was unthinkable for her even to suggest she go out on her own, who would feed the baby? She felt this situation to be highly unfair and unjust. Or when she saw some of her other mother friends happily coasting through motherhood, leaving her feeling angry towards them. Vanessa always poked holes in any solution that anyone would give her and described her perceptions as a glass that was always empty instead of half full.

When did she start to feel like herself again? Well, it wasn’t like a light switch, she admits. Different pieces of the puzzle began falling into place. The weather. She had a fall baby, and spring was making its way back; Vanessa could take Emma outside for walks and feel the sunshine on her face. At this point, Emma was a little older; she would sleep longer stretches at night, which meant Vanessa slept more. Her confidence started to come as she proved that she must not be such an inept mother after all, as her daughter was thriving and continues to thrive. Vanessa’s mother would repeat over and over that things would get better and confesses that hearing that over and over again did, in fact, help, and things did, in fact, get better in time.

moral of the story: it will get better.