My battle with postpartum depression was a little more unconventional than most. I didn't readily know that that's what I was dealing with until someone else pointed it out to me. But I think it's important to understand It can happen to anyone of any circumstance in child-rearing years. Why unconventional you ask. Because unlike many woman suffering from PPD I wasn't feeling scary thoughts towards my baby, because my depression was brought on mainly because I didn't get to keep mine. I think I didn't really recognize it because I was dealing with a lot of other grief in my life. I had just buried my mom who was my best friend and I was trying to pick up the pieces of life, so I didn't understand what it looked and felt like.

 

I'll rewind. In 2017 I was expecting my third child. My previous two were considered miricals to me because I was able to conceive them on my own. I have PCOS and was told that would be very difficult. After each of my children were born I had a great support system. I had a mom that took amazing care of me and helped answer questions and put to rest a lot of fears along the way and I feel like that really made the difference on whether I struggled with depression or not. Fast forward just over a year after my daughter's birth in 2016  I was expecting again. But this time I was taking care of my dying mom. After a short battle with cancer my amazing mom passed away.  Exactly 3 weeks after burying her I unexpectedly went into labor at four and a half months pregnant and ended up having to say goodbye to him too. 

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I feel like when you're already grieving and the outlook of your life looks grim, you don't understand what is defined as depression or was defined as postpartum depression. A few months later I was excited to find out that I was expecting again but also obviously very nervous about it. I was told multiple times by different doctors that it was very rare to have two consecutive miscarriages, but I guess I'm just one of those unlucky statistics. And the second week of May 2018 I lost my second baby. It happened exactly like the first. This time was a little bit easier to tell I was struggling differently than I had before. Honestly, i'm still struggling. To have so much trauma and sadness happen before I was ever able to process the first lost, phew, it was a lot. I was numb. Detached. Barely surviving. Broken. I avoided leaving the house as much as possible. I felt guilty I wasn't cherishing my other kiddo's at home enough, but I had nothing left. 

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This went on for several months until a friend pulled me aside one day at Church. She asked how I was REALLY doing and against my will I just started to sob. She asked if I had talked to a doctor about getting on some medicine for PPD. I looked at her and said "I can't have postpartum, my daughter is 2.5 years old." She looked at me and said, I'm not talking about Lucy. Until that moment, that thought had never crossed my mind. Sure I was suffering from depression, I knew that much, but I didn't give it a specific name. I had lots of the signs, irritability, guilt, misery, and hopelessness. If it weren't for my kids and husband, I was longing to just go and see my mom again. Looking back on it now, I should have (or someone should have) been more scared for me. After several months I finally got up the courage to ask for help. I asked to be put on depression medication and was told no (my bad for going to a natural doctor)  instead I was put on a lot of natural supplements that were supposed to help lift my mood and help me feel better. Luckily they helped just enough to get me to a place to help myself, but nothing was actually a prescription and I'm still not to a place where I feel like I am totally me again. And perhaps that will never come because these things change us so much. 

 

I do however have some tid bits of things that helped me through the thickest and hardest of it. 

 

Take care of your sanity first and foremost.  Cut ties with people that drag you down. We ALL have obligatory people in our lives, but if they are making you feel worse about yourself or your situation, you 100% don't have to do it. Mine was and still very much is my in-laws. I burned those bridges that were causing me more grief than help. Find YOUR village that validates and makes you feel competent. Woman that laugh with you when a bad word comes out of your mouth or that are right there with you on your current hate for the world. Sluff off the people who don't validate you at where you are. You already feel a million things all at the same dang time, find a group or a person that helps you feel as close to the you you know. 

 

Second, I think one of the most important things is to have a champion. Someone who loves you when you can't and don't love yourself. When the ugliest parts of life consume you and you turn into someone that you don't even know, that's where the person who loves you unconditionally pulls you from that. That could be anyone. A sister, a friend, whoever builds you up. I was lucky enough to have that be my spouse. Did he love every aspect of me, absolutely not. As I mentioned before I distanced myself and hurt relationships with people he loves. But at some of my scariest times he picked me up and said, I'm here, what do you need. He didn't try and fix me, that was impossible, he just knew I needed him and not knowing what those needs looked like he just kept showing up. 

 

Another, is helping other people through what I went through. I never in a million years would choose to redo the last 2 years. Not even if you paid me a lot of money. But because it wasn't my choice and because I was forced to get that knowledge and power that I had gained from going through this extremely difficult time I was able to help other people. For instance my sweet friend lost a baby about a year after I lost my first one. And I showed up on her doorstep with adult diapers and chocolate. I felt squeamish giving her those things but I knew that those were the things that had helped me most. She called me a couple days after and said that there was nothing anyone could have brought that was more perfect. I could take care of her the way that she needed because I knew that's what she needed.

 

My overall point to all of this is,  surround yourself with people that love you enough to tell you if they notice something is up, that will keep you grounded and sane and will keep showing up for you. It's not always easy to find those people but it's so important that you do. Natalie asked if there was a song that helped me. It's a bizzare choice but it's called "She used to be mine" by Sara Bareilles. I realize the point of hardship, grief and depression are means to which we change, grow and become more empathic people. But it doesn't take away the sting of us mourning the person that we lost in the process. I definitely lost myself in my battles. I came out a much different person than I went in, but like some of the lyrics of this song, it's different buts it's still good. Here is what drew me to this song and why I identified with it so much. 

 

"It's not simple to say

That most days I don't recognize me

...

It's not easy to know

I'm not anything like I used be, although it's true

...

I still remember that girl

 

She's imperfect, but she tries

She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

She is messy, but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine"