It’s me. Your friendly travel obsessed chica who has really fallen off the map this past year or so. In general I try to walk a fine line of sharing and keeping some things that are very personal, private. That being said, this is something I feel strongly about that I should share. If only for the fact that I had no idea what happened to me was possible and if by sharing, I bring more awareness, and help someone else feel less alone like I did.
To begin with, I have always wanted children. I broke up with my ex because he was undecided on kids and lucky me, was able to make way for Brandon. A man who not only got me in every sense but also really wanted children. Having kids was the one thing I could always confirm as being what I wanted out of life. Hands down, didn’t want anything more.
Now this comes from a number of experiences in my childhood that have culminated to this strong desire that we don’t have to dive into at the moment. Let’s just leave it to say I’ve never been shy about this need and want out of life. Once the time came for us to begin trying, my PCOS made things difficult and almost 1.5 years after starting we were finally and surprisingly pregnant last October.
The timing though had me struggling as I had just lost my grandmother whom was the great matriarch of our family and a woman I adored and cherished as well as in the process of losing my father. A man whom I was grieving for deeply, in shock, but had an intense and complicated relationship with to say the least. I was reeling emotionally and struggling to understand all my complicated feelings about all my loss and at odds with my complex feelings in finally being able to become a mom. I felt alone, self isolated, had no where or no one to turn to (Covid creating isolation for most people out of caution) helpless and like a burden. I then slowly started having severe morning all day sickness and intense hip/sciatica pain that left me immobile in bed for days and weeks at a time and I sank into a deep sadness that had me thinking of ending this intense pain all while trying to sleep my life away.
At the urging of my husband and some close friends, I finally reached out and found a therapist to help me address what I thought was just my grief. It turns out I had severe anxiety about motherhood and a ton of trauma to work through that actually combined with my grief had culminated to prenatal depression. Really postpartum depression that started early. Like 7 months early.
I had never heard that this was a thing and was very shocked to be living this truth every day. It made sense though. Why I didn’t want to leave my bed. Why I wasn’t finding joy in things I had loved to do before. Why I felt like a terrible mom before I even laid eyes on the beautiful soul that was my son. I had become a shadow of myself and struggled to even function. The need for all the pain and overwhelming feelings to end was beyond me but something I very much needed.
I’m really grateful for the support I received from my husband and close friends who pushed me to seek help. Taking a closer look at my mental health and working with a trained professional was really the lifeline I needed and would be something I would advocate for every mother to be to have access to.
I’m still working through my issues but I can say I feel more like myself and am prepared with the right help if postpartum depression becomes more of a reality for me now that my little one is here. By sharing my story it is my hope that if you or someone you know is struggling with similar concerns, that perhaps my little voice will help you or them feel less alone and be able to get the help that is needed. You are not alone and you are worthy of being helped. There is nothing wrong with you and prenatal/postpartum depression is common. We just sadly never hear anyone talk about it.