My Struggle with Postpartum Depression

Acknowledging what you don't want to be there is something none of us want to do. Mental illnesses being one of the main things we don't want to believe was there.

Mine happens to be postpartum depression. Also known as PPD. I am the 1 of 8 women who suffer with PPD.

This is my story.

I remember before finding out I was pregnant, October of 2015. I was really moody, and the normal hormonal moody. I was depressed, suicidal. I hated myself and I hated my life. I didn't know why, it wasn't until I took a pregnancy test in November that I brushed off as being "hormonal." But as my pregnancy progressed and I started feeling worse and started my research, I started realizing I was at risk for PPD.

I was scared.

I love being pregnant, though. I loved my daughter. I loved feeling her move. Watching her and my belly grow. I didn't feel distant towards her so I thought maybe... just maybe I was out of the woods with PPD.

Fast forward to my delivery day, July 26th 2016, via csection.

I remember laying on the table. Being cut open. Feeling so excited to finally meet my princess.

And then... my worst nightmare happened; I heard her first cry and what was supposed to be the happiest moment of my life was one of the worst. Why? Because I didn't care. I saw her for the first time and didn't care to hold her. That is one of the worst things a mother can go through. I felt so guilty, alone, and scared. Confused as to why this had to happen to me.

Fast forward to the first two months of her life. I wanted nothing to do with my daughter. The only time I spent time with her or held her was during a feeding or changing. I cried, a lot. Was so depressed I resorted to smoking nearly a pack of smokes a day. I couldn't wait for my husband to return from work so I could just go to sleep. That's all I did, was sleep my days away.

The first two months of her life were such a blur. I hardly remember anything. Lots of guilt still holds me hostage because I will never get that time back with my daughter. I was there physically but not mentally. I was torn in two different worlds at the time.

Two months old and I finally decided I needed help. I went and seen a psychiatrist and was diagnosed with severe PPD. I was still scared and confused as to why me?

I seen two different psychiatrists, two different therapists. I have been on a total of eight different medications to try and find the right one.

Fast forward to now, December of 2017. I found the right therapist and right medications. My daughter is almost 18 months old and I love her to pieces! Help was hard to get but it was worth the fight within myself. I'm happier, mentally healthier and proud of what I have overcome.

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I am 1 in 8. Although some women don't see life after PPD.

I am 1 in 8. PPD doesn't get to control me for the rest of my life.

I am 1 in 8. I am better than what PPD made me feel I was.

I am 1 in 8. I love my kids regardless of what PPD made me go through.

I am 1 in 8.

I am a warrior. A survivor.

PPD hotline - +18007736667