Ok, let me start this post with the warning that it is regarding an extremely heavy topic, very emotional for me and very, very long! I have struggled internally for a while (I will explain why later) about whether to post this on my blog, and with a lot of prayer, have decided to proceed. The topic is my struggle with severe post-partum depression, which leads to my testimony. See, I told you it was deep! If you are still reading this, then I will explain why this is so very difficult for me and why I have decided to tell my story. :)
*Deep breath* After delivering Hayes, I suffered from severe post-partum depression, tried to hide it from everyone and eventually hit rock bottom. That is the bad news. The good news is that this struggle led me to develope an amazing relationship with God, which is the best thing that has EVER happened in my life. I will share my testimony later, but first I want to explain why the heck I am posting something so personal on my blog for the world to see, and why doing so is very difficult for me.
As I am writing this, I am thinking about my Mom's first words when she read my blog. She said, "It is great, but why do you want everyone to know your business? I could never share that much personal information." Well Mom, you are going to really love this post! :)
For a very long time, my struggles with post-partum depression were something that I did not share with many people. If the topic came up, I would tell them that I did suffer from this disease (and yes I believe it is truly a disease), but I did not share the extent I suffered, nor the details. Many of the details, mainly the thoughts that went through my head, are still very embarrasing to me. However, eventually I spoke to my preacher and he asked me if I would share my testimony on video, which would be broadcast at one of the services at our church (Frazer United Methodist). After much prayer, I decided to do it and this was the first time I actually spoke about my struggles. It was one of the most terrifying, yet healing moments in my life.
Since then, I have had this constant nagging in my heart to share my story with more people. I have prayed so hard about this, but haven't found the opportunity that felt right. To be honest, every time I hear about someone I know being pregnant for the first time, I want to warn them about post-partum depression. I wish someone had warned me, but there is no good way to say "Congrats, but don't be suprised if your lowest point in your life comes as soon as the baby is born." or "You know how everyone says the moment you see that baby for the first time you will have this instant connection and it is love at first sight? Well, it doesn't always work that way." It is a taboo topic and even when a woman actually suffers from post-partum depression, it is very hard to admit. It is also a very isolating disease, which makes it even the more difficult to discuss, which in turn, pulls you deeper and deeper into its dark hole.
When I started this blog, I immediately felt a strong need to share my story and a feeling that this would be a great avenue to do so. However, I have really struggled with whether to and have been praying very hard about it. Well, our preacher's sermon this week was about never being ashamed to share the gospel and your testimony with others. Umm...hello John Schmidt...are ya talking to me?!? So, after more prayer, here goes the story of my struggle and the victory that followed. What do I have to lose? At the very most, I could help one person better understand post-partum depression or help someone who is suffering from the disease. At the very least, I could further heal my own self.
As many of you know, after 15 hours of labor with Hayes, I had to have an emergency c-section. This is the point where many of my problems began. As soon as Hayes was born, I got to take a peek at him, pose for a picture, then him and Daddy were out the door. I remember looking around and feeling alone. Yes, it is selfish, but I felt like, "Ok, what about me?" Then I felt intense, physical pain like no other. My epidural had worn off while they were stitching me up. At this point, the anethesiologist (sp?) put me completely under and the next thing I remembered was waking up in the recovery room. I was in so much pain I physically could not breath and the nurse told me that (*warning: gory details*) my recovery would be really bad, because of my intense labor and pushing, I had tore pretty bad internally. She was right. The pain was unbearable, I was doped up on tons of strong pain medicine and I was trying to recover from the anesthesia they had to use to knock me out because my epidural wore off while they were stitching me up. So, by the way, how is my baby???
Well, they brought Hayes into the recovery room and because of the intense pain and medication, it was very hard for me to enjoy that moment to the extent I wish I could have. Because of the trauma, my doctor made me lie flat in the bed for a couple days, which meant that someone else was changing Hayes' diaper and taking care of him the way most mothers get to do after birth. This absolutely killed me. The time finally came when they let me sit up and I couldn't wait to change his diaper. I will never forget this moment. I took his diaper off and grabbed a wipe. At the moment, everyone in the room jumped up simultaneously yelling, "Noooo!" Apparently, I had missed the instructions that you cannot use the alchohol wipes on the circumcision. Great. I almost burned my little baby's pecker off. I will never forget that feeling....a mix of embarrassment, anger, and pure sadness. I was this baby's mother and I should have known not to use alchohol wipes on a circumcision. I should have been there when they gave these instructions. But, I wasn't.
Every day brought more and more sadness. It is very difficult to explain, because you love that little being to death, but there is a huge cloud hanging over you that you cannot escape. I have never suffered from anything close to depression, so I did not understand what was happening to me. Of course, I had heard of the "baby blues" and I chalked it up to that, but deep down I knew something else was going on...something way more intense than a couple weeks of emotions and tears. So, as the company would flow in, I would put my game face on. Then, I would go to the bathroom and cry my eyes out, finally using Visine and make-up to cover the sadness, so I could go out into my little world again.
This continued for weeks and weeks. At my six week check-up, I mentioned my symptoms to Dr. Garrard (although I didn't tell him how severe it was) and he prescribed an anti-depressant. For some reason, I thought I could overcome the struggle myself, went home and placed the prescription in a drawer.
I have read (Brooke Shield's story is a must read) many stories about women suffering from post-partum depression wanting to harm their children, and I never had these feelings. In fact, my feelings were quite opposite. I had an obsession with protecting Hayes and felt like I was incapable of doing this. My problem was with myself. I began to convince myself that Hayes' was much better off without me. Then came the night that I hit rock bottom. That day was a huge struggle and I was overcome with feeling of my inadequacy as a mother. That night David took Hayes to visit some of his family and I told him that I had a headache, and was going to stay home. Before they left, David walked out of the room and I picked up that sweet sleeping baby and basically told him goodbye, and it felt permanent. David was worried about how upset I was, but I told him I was just tired and emotional, and convinced him to carry on with their plans.
At this point, let me give you a little background. I have always considered myself a Christian, went to church, etc. However, in the ten years before all of this happened, I had ventured far away from God. I would actually start to pray at times and stop, because I was too ashamed to finish. I was lost.
Back to my "rock bottom" night...After David and Hayes left, I crawled shamefully into bed and I have never cried so hard in my life. I cried with my entire body and soul. I knew that I did not want to and was not worthy to live, but I didn't know what to do about it. For the first time in a decade, I hit my knees. I literally prayed for a little over two hours without stopping. I don't think I will ever be able to verbally express what happened next, but a peace came over me and God literally lifted me up. I am not even going to try to explain how I felt the next few hours, because it is impossible, but for all of you who have experienced Salvation, you know the feeling.
I also decided that night to take my life back and I chose to fill the prescription for the anti-depressants that my doctor gave me, and yes they helped drastically. But, I know that I had needed more than medicine to heal my soul and that was truly my saving grace. The next day, I remembered that I had heard that Siran Stacy would be visiting my church to give his testimony that night, so I went. Never in my life have I ever been so impacted by someone's words. As Siran spoke about losing his children and wife in a horrific car wreck, I was awe-struck by his strength and faith. I finally felt hope and instead of going to the bathroom to conceal my tears, I let them flow and did not feel ashamed. Instead of "considering" myself a Christian, I knew I was a Christian. Instead of praying only when times got tough, I prayed continually throughout the day. My life was forever changed.
On May 31, 2009, David, Hayes and I were all baptized together as a family. This was, without any shadow of a doubt, the best day of my life. I could have researched post-partum depression before Hayes was born and someone could have explained to me how severe the disease could be. However, no one could have explained to me how forever changed my life would be once God was the center of it.
Since we are expecting another baby, I would be lying if I said that I did
not worry about the return of the post-partum depression, but worry is human nature. I know that this time I am armed with experience and information. But, my strong relationship with God is the strongest armor I could ever imagine. I have found my peace. I struggled, but I prevailed.
"Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up" (Psalm 71:20)
