Postpartum Depression

When I was pregnant with baby number 4, I remember eating and just not caring about what would happen if I ate more than was healthy for me or the baby.  I was certain that the weight would just fall off after he was born and that life would just be fine.  I wasn’t worried about juggling 4 kids under the age of 5.  And I certainly wasn’t concerned about how I was going to feel as a mother.  After all, I had been through twins so one baby wasn’t going to be a problem.  

Turns out I was wrong and I wasn’t just a little wrong.  It was more like two years of living in a fog and feeling that I probably should care but I just couldn’t.  I knew that if I took better care of myself that I would feel better but it was too hard to do anything but sit on the couch.  I wanted to be a better wife but if felt like so much work.  I wanted to hate the fact that my house was a mess but having a clean house meant actually caring and I just couldn’t do that.

Before the baby was born I joined a gym.  It had 90 minutes of free daycare, each day and they seemed to be pretty good to the kids.  So 6 weeks after Nathan was born I loaded the kids up and we headed to the gym.  I signed them in and escaped from 9 to 10:30 every weekday morning.  For the next 2 years we went to the gym every day, Monday through Friday.  People would find out and they would say things like “wow, you are so dedicated, you must love to exercise”.  What I never told them was that while the exercise was fine, what I really cared about was that I didn’t have to be a mom for an hour and a half.  Doctors will tell you that exercise is one of the things that will help you to manage your symptoms of depression.  I’m convinced that if I hadn’t gone to the gym like I did, I’m pretty sure that we would have lost me or my children.  That little bit of exercise made it so that while I didn’t care about taking care of myself or my family or my home, at least I never did them or myself any harm.  

I kept going to the doctor and telling him that I just didn’t feel good.  I was tired and I wasn’t losing any baby weight.  I just didn’t feel like myself.  He diagnosed me with postpartum depression and prescribed medication to treat the problem.  I’m definitely not against pharmaceuticals but I kept saying “no, no, I’m fine” and “it’s just the weight, that’s the real problem”.  I never took the help that was offered.  Instead I went to a state of barely functioning.  My relationship with the man that I loved so much suffered.  I think we just went to our separate corners and simply existed.  He was working all the time and he wasn’t around.  I had 4 little kids, all 5 and under.  I couldn’t talk about what was happening because I didn’t really understand the problem.

Finally I was able to pull out of that awful place.  I don’t know what really made the change happen.  I think that it was a combination of lots of things.  Number one was probably time.  I also went from a state of knowing that I should do better but not caring to actually caring and being proactive about the problem.  I remembered why I loved my husband so much and I worked to be a better wife.  I tried to take better care of my body by being careful about the things that I put into it.  I made a consistent effort to nurture my spiritual health by reading my scriptures and praying and attending the temple.  

When I was pregnant with Maggie (number 5), I was terrified that I was going to go back to that place.  I didn’t want to put my family through that hell.  So I tried to stay active during my pregnancy.  I was careful about what I ate and what I read and what spent my free time doing.  I think that I was also aware of the possibility of the problem so I made sure to ask for and accept help.  After she was born I went through the normal new baby crazy.  You know where you never sleep and you hate your husband (sorry babes) and you’re not sure why you decided to become a mother?  But even with all that crazy I didn’t slide into that pit again.  

Here we are, ten months after she was born and I feel so good.  I think this is the best time of my life. I keep thinking that this is the absolute best that life has to offer and the next day I’m surprised all over again by something even more wonderful than the day before.  Sappy, but true.

PS-  My husband is such a great guy.  He’s never called it quits even during those crazy times.  He’s one of the good ones and I love him so much.  Also sappy, I’ll quit now.

Daily Five

I've been keeping the postpartum depression at bay this time around and here are a few of the reasons why. 

1. Exercise.  I had this idea at the beginning of September.  I was going to exercise every single day for the whole month.  Beginning to end.  I figured it would be a good way to get back on track and start feeling like myself again.  I think I made it through the first four days.  Then I fell off the wagon.  And now we're back to the usual 4-6 days a week, not bad but not 30 days straight.  I run (very slowly), I lift weights (little bitty tiny ones) and I've started practicing yoga again (sort of).  It makes me feel good and keeps me happy and gives me the illusion that someday I will have abs of steel.
2. Read my scriptures and pray.  I'm working on the Book of Mormon these days.  I'm also praying for more patience.  Of course every one knows that when you pray for patience God laughs and makes your kids dance on your last nerve.  Maybe I should leave the P word out of things.
3. One meaningful project.  You know how you clean your house and then the kids get home from school and it looks like a bomb went off?  At least mine does, so meaningful project does not mean the regularly scheduled shoveling out.  The definition of meaningful project is A: must be completed start to finish in under 10 minutes and 2: it has to be something above and beyond regular home maintenance.  For example: organizing my shoes, cleaning the top of the fridge, dusting the dryer.  You can see how high the bar is set around here but organize your shoes and then tell me you don't get a little thrill every time you see them nicely in a row.  No really, someone back me up on this so I don't feel like such a weirdo.
4. Eat healthy.  Cookies for lunch, bad.  Soup and a sandwich, good.  Cheese nachos for a morning snack, very bad.  Hummus and veggies, very good.  You get the idea.  Eat healthy you feel good.  Opposite, feel bad.
5. Get enough sleep.  That means not too much and not too little.  My baby laughs at this.  She thinks it's hilarious when I tell her that people actually sleep all through the night without any milk refills.  But I remember that when I used to get enough sleep I felt much better.  I also remember that if I took a super long nap then I'd feel kinda worthless for the rest of the day. Someday I'll give too much sleep another shot just to see if I'm remembering it correctly but for now I can testify that not getting enough sleep makes it hard to function.

So to review.  Exercise: check.  Reading my scriptures and praying: 75% check.  One meaningful project: check.  Eating healthy: 50/50 check.  Sleep: not even but a girl can hope.

Survival Strategies

Are you getting tired of hearing about how I just had a baby and it's making me sorta crazy?  No?  Lucky you because here's some of my make it through the day ideas.  And while this is written as a postpartum woman I think it applies to everyone.  Well, probably not the nursing part...

Exercise  I love it.  I really do.  It keeps me sane.  It makes me feel good.  It reminds my body that it's good for more than just dairy production.  My doctor has only given me the okay to walk so that's what I do early most mornings.  My treadmill, my iPod and I spend a quality 30 minutes together.  I make sure to turn up the music really loud so that if all hell breaks loose I can't actually hear it.  I mean what's the worst that could happen in 30 minutes before dawn when the kids are asleep?  Don't answer that question.  As frustrated as I am with this after baby body, I'm not exercising to change my shape.  I'm really just treadmilling it to keep my mental health sorta under control.

Breast feed  Now I know this is controversial so just take a chill pill (I get a thrill of out saying that) everyone.  FOR ME nursing is just easier.  I couldn't handle the bottles and the formula and the refrigeration and umm, whatever else you have to do.  It's much easier FOR ME to just whip out one of the girls and take care of business.

Menu Planning I'm no Food Nanny but I do believe family dinner is pretty important and I've actually tried changing the clocks so that the kids don't know it's dinner time but they always figure me out.  So if I know what I'm making for dinner in advance I can get everything ready in the morning (if I'm on my game) or my better half can read the menu and take care of things.  Makes life easier.  Try it.

Simplify I took the fall semester off.  I knew that trying to balance school, even part time would just be more than I could handle.  It's been a relief to not have to worry about class and homework and good grades.  I've also let the other non essentials slide like weekly trips to the library, not even.  Homemade muffins/ waffles/ whatever for breakfast, hardly.  You get the idea.  Cut it out if it's not essential to your sanity.  Which brings us to

Staying Busy When I'm feeling in a funk of some making or another my cure is to do something productive.  That means not wasting the day away reading a book or watching tv.  I need to be moving and active and I need to have something to look back on that reminds me that I am a little bit productive.  Even if that's only moving the laundry basket from the basement to the bedroom.

Eat Healthy Okay maybe that should read healthyish because I am pretty fond of the cookies.  But I try to not live on the butter sugar food group.  I feel better if my body gets what it needs in the form of healthy food and right now in my present lumpy state I could use all the feel good I can get.

Be Kind To yourself.  To your family.  To that nosy lady at the store (yes, they are all mine, yes it's busy, thanks...).  When I'm nice to other people I feel better about myself.  So really I'm not trying to be kind to help them feel good, it's all about me.

The final one should be Sleep when you can so see ya!

I'm not alone, right?

*see below for three burning ???'s

I've had a baby recently, have you heard?  As I've been recovering from another cesarean and dealing with more sleepless nights I'm reminded again of just how hard it is to have a baby.  Yes I know just how blessed I am.  Raise your hand if you don't know someone fighting heartbreak in the form of infertility?  I'm waiting...  yep, didn't think so.  There's always someone that has it worse than me/ you/ the general population.  So my first thought is to stuff down the feelings of frustration and exhaustion and anger in the name of "it could be worse".  Well it could be but does that make my feelings less valid?

I'm grateful, I really am.  But you know what?  I'm also tired.  I'm the sole source of comfort for a beautiful and needy baby.  If this family wants dinner I'm the one they're looking at.  If they want a ride to soccer/ ballet/ the grocery store, it's me.  If the house is going to get clean, tag, I'm it.

Let me just insert in here that the husband does more than he really has time for but he's also slaying a big giant dragon in the form of looming unemployment.  The kids are also becoming more and more self- sufficient.  For example, Anna is perfectly capable of doing laundry.  All of the kids can load their dishes in the dishwasher.  Grant is great at getting breakfast ready and Jennie has taken Nathan under her wing.  She's sort of become his shepherd or sheep dog, one of the two.  So the husband does his best.  The kids are helpful.

But they still make me crazy.  The husband can look at me wrong and I lose it.  The kids will make too much noise and I'll blow a gasket.  Maggie wakes up for the millionth time in a row and I hit the wall (literally, it hurts my hand).  Does it sound like I'm angry and bitter and down on the world?  I'm not, like I said I'm grateful.  I am very blessed but I think we do ourselves a disservice when we refuse to acknowledge the challenges we face.  Especially this roller coaster called postpartum.  It's ugly man.

I've been here before so I know that this is just a season, we'll make it through.  Until then know that I'm just trying to do my best and sometimes that means that all I've got is a short fuse and dirty laundry.

*How exactly do you hold a baby so that they don't look like a lump?  Why did I think those boots were a good idea?  And can someone please come weed my garden? It looks gross.