Postpartum Depression Is Not Normal

Content/Trigger Warning: This post contains discussion of suicide and symptoms of Postpartum Mood and Anxiety Disorders, including intrusive thoughts. If you are feeling vulnerable, you may want to exit this post and read it some other time. You are loved.

"CODE ALERT: U.S. Preventative Services Task Force says women should be 'screened for depression' during and after pregnancy. Their answer, of course, is to 'find the right medication.' And how many on the task force are on big pharma's payroll? Follow the money on this one. Hormonal changes during and after pregnancy are NORMAL. Mood changes are NORMAL. Meditation helps. Prayer helps. Nutritional support helps. Love helps." 

-Marianne Williamson

Dear Marianne,
Last night (Wednesday 1/27/2016), I read your post opposing screening for Postpartum Depression. And you know what? It hurt my heart. As I read your words, I thought back to my own experiences after giving birth, and thought of the many stories I've heard from other women who struggled, and there are many of us out there. We have struggled with Postpartum Depression, Postpartum Anxiety, Postpartum OCD, Postpartum Psychosis, Postpartum PTSD, Antepartum Depression, and the list goes on. Our stories are many and varied, but one thing remains consistent: what we have been through and continue to go through is not normal. It may be common, but it is not normal.

There is nothing normal about Intrusive Thoughts that make you change your routine out of fear of the terrible thoughts and pictures that spring unbidden into your brain.

There is nothing normal about depression that leaves you unable to function, that leaves you sitting listless in a rocking chair, staring off into space with tears rolling down your cheeks as you rock your baby, wishing the pain inside you would ease for just a few moments.

There is nothing normal about anxiety attacks that cause you to have to pull over on the side of the road while you struggle to breathe, or have you sitting on the stairs at home hugging yourself and rocking back and forth while you hyperventilate.

There is nothing normal about hearing voices tell you that your baby is being possessed by the devil.

There is nothing normal about being traumatized by a birth experience that feels like something out of a nightmare and has you terrified at the idea of giving birth again.

There is nothing normal about finding yourself at the top of the stairs in the middle of the night, considering throwing yourselves down them to try to make the pain stop. There is nothing normal about walking away from those stairs and then thinking "I could just take a bunch of painkillers left over from a loved one's surgery, so I could go to sleep. Everyone would be better off without me and I'd find some relief from this crap."

There is nothing normal about having to go to the Emergency Department in the middle of the night and ending up admitted to the hospital for a week for in-patient psychiatric care while you stabilize from crisis mode. There's nothing normal about not being able to stop crying long enough to answer the nurse's questions.

There's nothing normal about feeling like you're a total and complete failure as a mother, a monster, because of the lies your brain is telling you.

There is nothing normal about Postpartum Mood and Anxiety Disorders. There is nothing normal about the number of women we lose to Postpartum Mood and Anxiety Disorders each year. There's nothing normal about the fact that suicide is one of the highest causes of maternal mortality in developed countries. There's nothing normal about the fact that new cases of Postpartum Depression occur in at least 600,000 women in the United States each year, and that's just the ones we know about. Once you start factoring in unreported/undiagnosed cases, the numbers jump significantly. It is common, but it is not normal.

There is nothing normal about Postpartum Mood and Anxiety Disorders. Postpartum Depression is not the same thing as the "baby blues", it's not the result of the "normal hormonal changes" that occur after pregnancy. It's not those normal hormonal fluctuations that are seeing calls for increased depression screenings during and after pregnancy. It's not those normal fluctuations that require medication and hospitalization and therapy.

I've experienced the normal baby blues, and I've experienced Postpartum Depression, Postpartum OCD, and Postpartum Anxiety that left me with two hospitalizations. There's a world of difference. Prayer, meditation, reading books, and good nutrition helped with the typical postpartum hormonal adjustments. They did NOT help with my PPMD. You know what did help when I ended up in the hospital after wanting to kill myself?

Medication.

And for that life-saving medication that helped return my life to some semblance of normal, that helped me be able to function, I thank heaven and "Big Pharma".

Please, Marianne, educate yourself before you cause any more harm, before you do any more damage to fragile women who are hurting. And you have already done harm and damage. I know this because I have been told this by women who were hurt and ashamed and scared after reading your words on Facebook and twitter.

And a quick note to all the mamas out there who are experiencing PPMD, you are not alone. What you are going through is not normal, but it is common. You have people who love you. We see you, we know your pain and desperation, and we love you. We are here for you. You have only to reach out to us and we will stand by your side and help you find your way through this. Don't let the stigma and ignorance that exists in the world get you down or keep you from reaching out for help.



For anyone who wants to educate themselves about the realities and truths of Postpartum Mood and Anxiety Disorders, these links are a good start.

Postpartum Progress
Postpartum Support International
My Postpartum Voice
#PPDChat on twitter

PPD isn't impressed by titles or wealth

I'm one of those people who is fascinated by royalty, especially the British Royal Family. I remember watching the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales when I was a teenager. I watched Prince William's wedding to the former Kate Middleton live (streamed it on the internet) very early in the morning while I nursed a newborn baby. I've been enthralled waiting for the arrival of the newest member of their family (who came into the world on July 22, 2013), formerly known as "the royal baby" and now (since his name as been announced) known as HRH Prince George Alexander Louis of Cambridge.

This evening, something struck me that has stuck with me in the back of the mind for the last couple of days. I got to watch via live stream (yay for smart phones) as the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge brought Prince George out front of the hospital to meet the press, the public, and - in a way, the world - before leaving for Kensington Palace. Kate said something then that has been niggling at my brain; she said that it's "very emotional".

Pregnancy is emotional. Childbirth is emotional. Becoming parents is emotional, whether it's your first child or your third. She nailed it.

But I hope - and I don't know how well I can translate my thoughts and feelings on this in to words - that she knows to watch out for the negative emotions. I hope that she is surrounded by people who know about Postpartum Depression, Postpartum Anxiety, Postpartum OCD, Postpartum Psychosis, etc., who can help her keep an eye out for it and - should she start to suffer - help her get help.

But I don't just wish this for her. I wish this for EVERY new mom out there. My hope for all of you is that you have educated yourself about the realities and symptoms of PPMD, that you are surrounded by people who know about it and who will speak up and help you get help if they notice something is wrong.

PPMD is no respecter of persons. It doesn't care who you are. It's a bastard like that. We ALL deserve to be able to get help, though. Don't think that because you don't have a title you don't deserve help or are supposed to suffer. And don't think that because you're a celebrity you have to suffer in silence and just try to push through it.  If you need help, ask for it.

We all matter.

Yesterday, I cried.

Warning: if you are currently having a rough time with PPMD, you may want to avoid this post. It contains potential triggers.

Yesterday, I cried. It wasn't a messy cry. It was a quiet, gentle, soft cry, with small tears and no snotty nose. But it was still a cry.

Why did I cry?

I cried because Cynthia Wachenheim killed herself.

The story I linked above, from the New York Times, reads:

Sometime before 3:25 p.m. Wednesday, Cynthia Wachenheim, a lawyer who was on child-care leave from her job, wrote out a note. On lined notebook paper, it ran for 13 pages.

According to a law enforcement official who has seen the note, she wrote that her infant son, Keston Bacharach, had previously taken a few tumbles, including “two shameful incidents,” a fall from a Gymini play set onto the wood floor when she walked out of the room for five minutes, and off a bed. She blamed herself, and was convinced that those falls had led to a series of concussions and seizures that aggravated or contributed to maladies that would harm him for the rest of his life.

Her friends, family members and pediatrician did not believe her, she wrote. But she noticed changes in the baby — changes that only a mother who spends all day with her child would notice. For instance, she wrote, her son had grown sleepier and cried more frequently.

She wrote that she could not bear the thought that he might suffer because she had failed to protect him. She wrote that what she was about to do was “evil.” 

She then jumped out of her eighth-floor window. She left behind the note. She did not leave behind her son, strapping him to her body in a Ergobaby carrier, bringing him down with her as she crashed to the ground, the crack sounding like a gunshot to people passing by.

Ms. Wachenheim, 44, died. But her 10-month-old son, apparently cushioned by her body, survived. He bounced out of the carrier and suffered only a bruised cheek.

“I’m sure you understand, I’m absolutely overwhelmed with grief,” her husband, Hal Bacharach, said in a brief telephone conversation Thursday from his apartment at the Sutton, a new sleek building at 147th Street and Bradhurst Avenue in Harlem, where he had lived with his wife.

“I have my son, who was lucky enough to survive, in my lap,” Mr. Bacharach said, sounding in shock as he repeated similar words several times. “It’s unbelievable. Right now my crying son is in my arms.” A child could be heard whimpering as he spoke.

Ms. Wachenheim’s leap was a jarring twist in the life of a highly educated, socially conscious woman who had been active in a women’s group in her synagogue, B’nai Jeshurun on the Upper West Side, and, according to her college class notes, had been a coordinator for a Harlem tutoring program.

She was on leave from her $122,800-a-year job as an associate court attorney in the Manhattan State Supreme Court system, court officials said. She had worked for the courts since 1997, doing legal research and helping judges write opinions.

Christian Johnson, a lawyer who lives a few doors down, said he had seen Ms. Wachenheim twice last week. There was no indication “that anything was askew in their household,” he said. “I was shocked.”

The baby seemed normal, he said. Mr. Johnson would sometimes ride the train with Mr. Bacharach, who never said anything about developmental issues. “Hal never mentioned that to me,” Mr. Johnson said.

But Mr. Bacharach’s mother, Barbara Bacharach, said that her daughter-in-law had not been her usual self lately.

Mr. Johnson said he had overheard the couple arguing — which he said was very unlike them — about two hours before Ms. Wachenheim jumped. He paused in the hallway to make sure it was nothing serious, then moved on when it seemed like a normal marital spat. “He was just asking her why she didn’t answer the phone and why wouldn’t she pick up the phone,” he said. “He just kept asking her and she wouldn’t respond.”

Several times in her note, according to the law enforcement official, Ms. Wachenheim expressed deep love for her son, referring to him as “beautiful.”

She said that she would give her life to bring his health back and that she hated herself for the first time in her life. She believed that her son’s falls might have brought about a serious medical condition, perhaps cerebral palsy or autism, which would have “lifelong consequences.”

Her belief that she failed to prevent it caused her to “crumble.” She wrote that she was depressed and could no longer socialize. She was sure that people would see her behavior as postpartum depression or psychosis.

Dr. Catherine Birndorf, a reproductive psychiatrist at Weill Cornell Medical College, said the word “evil” in the note stood out for her. “Usually these intensely lethal acts happen in the context of losing some kind of touch with reality,” she said. “What mother in their right mind would kill their kid?”

Postpartum depression does not usually lead to suicide and homicide, she said, unless it is left untreated or progresses to more serious mental illness, like psychosis. She compared it to the case of Andrea Yates, the Texas woman who was found not guilty by reason of insanity of drowning her five children in the bathtub. Ms. Yates, who had been struggling with postpartum psychosis, thought that she was a bad mother and that she was protecting her children by killing them, Dr. Birndorf said.

About 10 to 20 percent of new mothers have postpartum depression, according to the state health department, and only 1 or 2 out of 1,000 new mothers have postpartum psychosis. Postpartum psychosis is characterized by delusions, often about the baby, agitation, anger, paranoia, and sometimes commands to harm the infant. It has a 5 percent suicide rate and a 4 percent infanticide rate, according to the health department.

Ms. Wachenheim was valedictorian at Colonie Central High School, near Albany, and graduated from what is now known as the University at Buffalo, and from Columbia University Law School. In 1993, she traveled to Pakistan to work in a law office specializing in women’s rights and worked on subjects like “honor killings” of women suspected of adultery, according to an article at the time in The Times Union of Albany.

Mr. Bacharach said he met his wife on a bus to Boston and was smitten by her “innate kindness.” They were married in 2009, two years after she bought her apartment at the Sutton for $190,750, according to city records.

It is across the street from Jackie Robinson Park, where neighbors said Ms. Wachenheim took her newborn to the outdoor pool in the summer.

Randy Leonard and Sheelagh McNeill contributed reporting.

A version of this article appeared in print on March 15, 2013, on page A19 of the New York edition with the headline: Mother Knew Her Final Act Was Evil One.

I When I read this, I cried for Cynthia. In fact, I'm crying right now while I write this. I don't know that I know the exact pain she was struggling with, but I know the type of pain that leads you to think that maybe the best solution is to kill yourself. I know the kind of pain that makes you feel hopeless and like you're just hurting everyone around you. I know the pain that says "Everyone would be better off if I was gone". I know the pain of "What if I hurt my baby?".

I think it's important to note that this article does not say definitively whether or not Cynthia had a diagnosis of any type of Postpartum Mood and Anxiety Disorders, but the article does list several things that can be symptomatic of PPMD, and there's the fact that the article lists her son as being 10 months old (PPMD can rear their ugly heads at any time in the first 12 months after giving birth, and does not necessarily go away just because a mother and baby hit the baby's first birthday). I feel that it's important to note that I am not diagnosing Cynthia with anything. I'm not an M.D., R.N., C.N.M., or any other type of medical/mental health professional, and I don't know nearly enough about Cynthia and her history/situation to make that call.

Regardless of whether or not Cynthia was suffering from a PPMD, she was obviously hurting and struggling with a great burden. I've never met Cynthia but I know that she was so upset and hurting so much in some way that she decided the best thing for her and her baby was for both of them to die, that that was the best way to protect them. I can't say that I can't imagine what she was going through, but I think I can, just a little bit.

Cynthia is the reason why I blog. Her baby, who could have died with her but didn't, is why I blog. Her husband and the rest of her family and friends are why I blog. They are why I cry now. The world is such a cold hard place and for some people that is more true than it is for others. And when I hear about stories like this, it makes my heart hurt. I wish I could go to New York a few days ago and hug Cynthia. I wish I could tell her "It's okay, Cynthia. You're not a bad mom. You need help, let's go talk to a professional. I'll go with you and hold your hand so you're not alone. But you don't have to do this.". I wish I could save her, save all the people she leaves behind. But I can't. All the wishes in the world won't change that. All I can do is hope that she is at peace now and pray for those she leaves behind.

I can't save Cynthia, and as much as I want to, I don't have the technology to be able to go back in time to tell her those things. But I can tell you. And so, I am.

If you are out there reading this and you are hurting, let me help you. If you feel hopeless, please know that there is hope. There is always hope, even when you can't see it. If you feel like you can't go on, you can, and I will go with you. I HAVE BEEN THERE. I was hospitalized twice after my first daughter was born for that very reason. I have survived Postpartum Depression, Postpartum Anxiety, and Postpartum Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Cynthia's story is how mine could all too easily have ended if I hadn't gotten help.

You do not have to go through PPMD alone. Let me walk with you. You are not alone and you are not a bad anything. You are the most beautiful and fantastic you that could ever exist.

If you need help, let me help you.

Please.

Lady sings the (baby) blues

Today, I'm sad. And mad... and grumpy, angry, cranky, happy, irritated, and gloomy, depending on what minute you catch me in. I've cried at the drop of a hat, been laughing 5 minutes later at an e-card a friend sent me, and been in tears for no apparent reason 30 seconds after that. I've been on an emotional roller coaster the hormonal equivalent of the famous real-life roller coaster The Cyclone on Coney Island. Straight up, I have been a mess today. My eyes are red and puffy, my nose is stuffy (and a little raw from wiping), and I have that good old Crying Headache. If you looked up "Mess" in the dictionary, you'd probably find my picture. Why? Simple... I've got the Baby Blues.

"Baby blues" is a term used to describe the mood swings that new moms may experience in the first few weeks after giving birth. According to the American Pregnancy Association's information page about the baby blues,

"approximately 70-80% of all new mothers experience some negative feelings or mood swings after the birth of their child". 

The baby blues themselves are not an uncommon experience for new moms (and yes, you are a new mom after the birth of every child, no matter how many times you've given birth before). As long as the baby blues aren't accompanied by symptoms such as thoughts of hurting myself or my baby, and they go away by 2-3 weeks postpartum, there's really no need for me to be concerned unless I or someone else feels like it's just getting worse and/or staying bad all the time instead of  being an ebb-and-flow type thing. I'm already on Zoloft and have been since I hit 35 weeks pregnant. The baby blues, although commonly confused as being the same thing as PostPartum Depression, are not PPD and while it sucks to be up-and-down, is not necessarily a cause for me to be concerned.

I know the facts, I know the statistics, I know "The drill". Call the doctor if things get bad, don't be afraid to reach out for help if I need it, don't hesitate to talk to my friends and family about what I'm feeling, it's all perfectly normal, etc. etc. etc. I wish it were that easy, though. Because of what I went through with the PPD after Elizabeth was born, I tend to be a little on the "overly vigilant" side of things, super aware, shall we say, of my moods and emotions with regard to mental and emotional health.

It's hard to have days like today and NOT immediately go "Oh my gosh, what if it's PPD again!". You try and you try not to let fear run your life but sometimes, it kicks in and you start to worry. So here I sit, hoping that typing out this blog post will help me to process what I'm feeling and refocus on the fact that what I'm going through is normal and I don't need to go check myself into the hospital.

I'm lucky to have some great friends and family. I posted about how I was feeling ("Baby blues: like PMS on Steroids" was my Facebook status) and immediately had people giving me support and encouragement. Some of the wonderful ladies from #PPDChat hit me with the same. My mom got home from the grocery store and gave me a huge hug (I'm about to start crying typing that but I suspect that has as much to do with her flying back home as with anything else). My husband brought me supper and a drink and was just his usual sweet self, taking care of me. One of my cats came and loved on me. Some of my friends jumped in with dumb jokes and funny e-cards to cheer me up.

It's that type of love and support that keeps me going, that helps me get through the rough patches. That type of encouragement reassures me that I'll be okay no matter what and that my dramatic feelings of... well, dramatic maudlin-ness, will pass with people loving on me and holding me up when all I want to do is to collapse and wail "I hate the world!". And then, there's the knowledge that it really is okay to just hole up in my room, bury my face in a pillow, bawl my eyes out without even being sure of why I'm crying in the first place, and then go blow my nose and eat an ice cream bar or 10.

You do what you have to get by and try not to feel bad about it. It's easier said than done but it can be done. The baby blues suck but they're not the end of the world, they're not the same thing as PostPartum Depression, they don't mean I'll end up with PPD again, and they really will go away. All I have to do, all YOU have to do, is hang in there and keep on keeping on, trying not to beat ourselves up in the process. Because really, there's nothing to beat ourselves up for. We have no control over what our bodies do as far as hormonal changes, it's not our fault, and there's nothing wrong with us. At the end of the day, we're still humans and moms and nothing we feel can ever change that.


To learn more about the baby blues, I recommend these links.

• http://www.babycenter.com/0_the-baby-blues_11704.bc
• http://www.americanpregnancy.org/firstyearoflife/babyblues.htm
• http://www.marchofdimes.com/pregnancy/faq_whatarebabyblues.html

Stigmas are like constipated bumholes with hemorrhoids

When I first started spiraling down into the clutches of PostPartum Depression after my first baby was born, one of the things that kept me from reaching out for help was the feeling and notion that I was alone, that nobody would understand what I was going through and dealing with. There was such a huge sense of isolation and it both angered and terrified me. It solidified my decision to keep my mouth shut and just try to deal with things on my own. It's one of the reasons I blog, Tweet, Facebook, and generally take any opportunity I can to talk about PPD, to try to reach out to others who may be feeling the same way. I want everyone to know what I didn't, what I wish I had learned sooner: that far from being alone, there are many others going through the same thing, and more are starting to speak out all every day.

Over the last couple of years since I was fighting my own battle and feeling so terribly alone, I've discovered that there is a whole community of women online who have been there, done that, or are there and doing it right now. The community spans across multiple venues: blogs (I have a few linked here), Facebook groups, Twitter hashtags such as #ppdchat, and more. Everyone has their own story to tell. No two experiences are identical but the goal is: to gain and give support and to fight the stigma that surrounds PostPartum Depression, other PPMD, and mental health in general.

One of the blogs I frequent is called Band Back Together. Yesterday, I was able to(momentarily, while nursing Aaron) join their Twitter chat session #withtheband, hosted by @bandbacktogether. The tweet that caught my attention said

Who's gonna come party with me tonight? We're gonna be putting names and faces to invisible illness, mental disease and others!

Oh cool! I want in on that! So, I hopped on Twitter. I didn't get to stay for very long but in the time I was there, someone tweeted "because stigmas are assholes". I responded "Yes they are. Smelly constipated ones with hemorrhoids."

And you know what? They are. Okay, maybe it's not THE most polite analogy, but you know what? Stigmas aren't polite. When I made the crack (pun not intended), I wasn't thinking any deep thoughts (yeah yeah, how could that particular topic be deep? You might be surprised...). I was just being a smart-ass. Hemorrhoids and constipation were on my brain because they're a couple of the potential nasty little side effects of childbirth which, despite not getting talked about a whole lot, I have had the misfortune to suffer from after all three of my babies now.

Yes, I realized yesterday that I was uncomfortably constipated. So much so that my tummy HURT. I took several laxatives before bed and suffered another 12-plus hours before things finally... ahem... got moving. When I did go, I felt so much better afterwards but holy COW did my butt hurt! My perineum tore a little when Aaron was born so I have stitches there, plus the hemorrhoids and swelling... let's just say it was more than a little unpleasant.

You may be wondering "What in the world do constipation and hemorrhoids have to do with stigma?!?". They have several things in common.

1. They're gross.
2. They hurt.
3. They're a pain in the butt.
4. Nobody wants them.
5. They're not polite.
6. They're no respecter of persons.
7. If left untreated, they can develop into something serious.

Constipated hemorrhoidal tushies aren't something that anyone wants to be dealing with, and neither are stigmas. They both hurt like the dickens. hey sting, they burn, they're flat-out painful. They both have to be treated or you run the risk of developing more serious complications. They're both uncomfortable topics. And they can't be treated without being acknowledged.

Just as you have to realize that there's a problem with your bum to be able to clear up constipation and hemorrhoids and then go further by actively seeking out the correct treatment (laxatives, ointments, etc.), the stigmas that surround PPD and mental health in general aren't going to get better and go away while people avoid talking about them. As long as people continue to be more comfortable sticking their heads in the sand and pretending it's not an issue while throwing around attitudes and phrases like "It's all in your head, you just need to make up your mind to be happy", "Just get over it already", and "That's just a cop out", the stigmas are here to stay. And as long as the stigmas stick around, people will continue to keep their mouths shut about their problems, feeling ashamed and guilty for something that's not their fault. New moms will continue to battle PPD alone, feeling like they're just a bad mother or they must be doing something wrong.

It's time to stop uselessly scratching an itch and trying to treat the hemorrhoids with ice cubes and pull out the MiraLax and Preparation-H. It's time to start educating ourselves and those around us, time to speak up when we hear something being thrown around that is untrue and hurtful. It's time to flush the poop of stigma down the drain.

Jellyfish can swim

Yesterday was my 41 week checkup with my Obstetrician. Little Mister is being stubborn (he must get that from his daddy) and has decided to make us wait to be graced with his presence. We did a Non-Stress Test to make sure he's doing okay and an ultrasound to make sure he has enough amniotic fluid. He's doing fine for now but we went ahead and scheduled an induction for Monday in the event that he hasn't come by then.

Scheduling an induction brings back a lot of memories for me from when Elizabeth was born and the time that followed after. I hadn't wanted an induction but was pressured and mislead into thinking it was the only option after my 40 week checkup by an OB who was more interested in his own convenience than what was best for my baby and me. The entire experience was very traumatic and I believe that it was a contributing factor to my PostPartum Depression.

This time, things are different though. Last time I felt like I was just floating along in the current with no say over my care and no control over what happened to me and, thus, no control over the outcome and fallout. This time, I've educated myself. I know the facts about childbirth, induction, and interventions. Beyond that, I'm educated about PostPartum Depression. I know what can be contributing factors, I know the signs and symptoms, and I'm not afraid to get help.

We've recently gotten a family membership to the Monterey Aquarium and have been there several times with my mom since she's been here to visit waiting for the baby to be born. We usually spend a good chunk of time in the jellyfish exhibits, partly because the girls love to watch them and partly because I like to watch and read about them. I found it interesting to read that jellyfish don't just have to float along with the current, they can actually swim and control where they're going.

I feel like a jellyfish. Before, I was just floating along wherever the currents took me. Not this time. This time, I'm swimming. This time, I know that I have a say in what route is taken in my healthcare, in everything from childbirth to treatment for depression. I know that I don't have to be fragile and defenseless.

For all of us, it is our own choice on how we respond to the challenges life throws at us. It is our responsibility to educate ourselves and our loved ones so that when the current gets nasty and starts trying to take us somewhere we don't want to go, we can reach out for help and have someone to help us swim against the tides.

I know all too well that when you're in the middle of dealing with PPD, it can feel like you're totally helpless and weak. Those feelings are a normal part of it, but feelings don't have to be reality. We can fight against those feelings and help ourselves get help.

Sometimes people just do bad things.

Over the last few days, two news stories in particular have been coming across my news feed a lot. One is about Terrence Tyler, a 23 year old Marine (no longer in the Corps) who shot and killed two fellow store employees before killing himself at a New Jersey supermarket. According to the news story, 

"Tyler, formerly of Brooklyn but living in Old Ridge, served in the U.S. Marine Corps from 2008 to 2010, a Marines spokesman said. Tyler was a lance corporal and rifleman, who received two medals and never served overseas, the spokesman said.". 

I have not been able to find any information as to what kind of discharge he received (Honorable or otherwise). The news story also states that, according to a law enforcement source, 

"Tyler may have had a history of depression or mental illness".

Naturally, plenty of reactions seem to be "He must have had PTSD". Another opinion I've seen floating around is that "He couldn't have had PTSD, he never deployed". These are both inaccurate. As to the first, no, he does NOT have to have had PTSD. For one thing, if it's true that he had a past history of depression//mental illness, why could it have been that instead? Are we assuming that since he served in the military any mental issues that caused something like this have to automatically be PTSD?

As to the second, PTSD is not something that is reserved specifically for troops who deploy to combat, it's not something exclusive to overseas military service. PTSD stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. We usually hear about it in the news most often in relation to servicemembers and veterans but it is hardly exclusive to the military community. PTSD can come about as a result of any traumatic event. Rape and abuse survivors, vehicle accident survivors, someone who was caught in a fire, people who are onlookers witnessing an event that is traumatic to them, people who have lost a loved one, anyone who experiences anything that is traumatic to them can suffer from PTSD. PTSD can occur after a woman has a childbirth that was traumatic to her. Someone living with a spouse or loved one with PTSD can develop their own PTSD. According to PostPartum Support International,

"Approximately 1-6% of women experience postpartum post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) following childbirth. Most often, this illness is caused by a real or perceived trauma during delivery or postpartum. "

Women who have survived a PostPartum Mood Disorder can struggle with PTSD as a part of the aftermath. 911 personnel can develop PTSD due to the situations they may be put in as part of their work. PTSD is not exclusive to any one community, nor is it limited to a specific type of situation. If Terrence Tyler experienced something that was traumatic to him during boot camp or any part of his time in the U. S. Marine Corps, he could most certainly have developed PTSD and it is certainly possible that that could have been linked to his actions in shooting and killing two others in addition to himself. The thing is, we just don't know.

The other story I've been hearing a lot about it that of Tiffany Klapheke, a woman arrested after her 22 month old daughter died, apparently from extreme neglect. Her other two children, a 3 year old and a 6 month old, are currently in the hospital, apparently also suffering from the same. And of course, as is the norm when a mother is responsible for the death of her child, many people are jumping straight to "Oh, well, since it's a mom who killed her child, it must be PostPartum Depression".

NO. It does NOT have to be PostPartum Depression. Again, it could be another mental illness. It could be totally unrelated to mental health altogether and be the result of bad parenting or other factors. Just because a mother is responsible for the death and/or injury of her children does not mean it's automatically a PPMD. This isn't even getting deep into the fact that most of the time, when people refer to "PPD" as the reason a mother kills her child (usually citing the cases of Andrea Yates and/or Otty Sanchez), they are actually referring to PostPartum Psychosis, another PPMD but a separate and different illness than PostPartum Depression. PPD and PPP are not the same and can not/should not be used interchangeably. If you're going to toss around "So-and-so must have *insert mental health problem*, please, at least know what it is you're actually talking about.

But beyond that, it is injurious and unfair to automatically assume that someone who does something bad must be suffering from a mental illness. It makes it harder for people who are suffering to ask for help. To focus specifically on servicemembers who are dealing with PTSD, it's already incredibly difficult for them to go talk to someone about it. Among other things, they fear being seen as weak, as not being able to do their job, as not being good Soldiers/Airmen/Marines/Sailors/Coasties. They worry that if they speak up about their problems, they will automatically lose their security clearance, be reclassed to a different job, be discharged from the military altogether. They worry about being mocked and made fun of by their coworkers, about being looked down on and told to "Suck it up and stop being a pansy" and of being seen as malingerers by their Chain of Command. They already fight these stigmas, concerns, and myths. People automatically jumping to the conclusion that servicemembers who do bad things must be the result of PTSD add another layer of fear to it: the fear that they may be immediately seen as a threat and a potential monster. This is all aside from whatever internal pain and traumatic events are causing them to suffer in the first place.

Assault/abuse survivors may already be wrestling with unnecessary guilt over "Was this my fault? Could I have done something different to prevent this?", or with people being suspicious that they somehow brought it on themselves or are lying about what happened to them. People who are dealing with PTSD as a result of anything other than military service may not even be aware that PTSD could be something they face, or they may worry that people will laugh and bring the exact attitude of "You're not military, you weren't deployed, you don't have PTSD". Women who are struggling with PTSD after childbirth face those who have the attitude that "Childbirth couldn't possibly be traumatic" (and yes, I have personally heard/seen that said and that attitude thrown around).

With regards to a PPMD, I can't stress enough how terrifying it was to be suffering from PPD. To feel like I wasn't in control of my emotions and, to some extent, my actions and reactions, to have thoughts that popped unbidden into my head of hurting/killing myself, to constantly feel numb and dulled and in a fog and not even know why, to feel those waves of anger and sadness, to know deep down inside that something was wrong but not know what or why, and to feel like it must have been something I was doing wrong. It was beyond scary. Once I realized that I had all the symptoms of PostPartum Depression and NEEDED to get help, that was a whole new dimension of fear. Fear that it meant I was a horrible mom and a failure as a wife and mother, fear that it meant I was a monster, worry that when I went in and said "I need help, here's what I'm dealing with" CPS would be called in to take my baby girl away so that I couldn't try to kill her. After I was released from the hospital I dealt with the concern that if I told anyone what was going on, they would look down on me, mock me, laugh at me, judge me, criticize me, not trust me, and assume that I must be like Andrea Yates, that I must be on the verge of killing my child in some horrific manner.

These stigmas and fears are perfectly normal for anyone who is dealing with PTSD, PPD, or any other mental illness. These stigmas are exactly what I and so many others are trying to fight, why we work so hard to educate people, why public discussion, education, and advocacy are so vital. Steps in the right direction are being taken and forward progress is being made. However, sadly, when people hear about stories like this and start talking about what mental illness must have caused the person in question to have done whatever they did, it is a step in the wrong direction, movement backwards, and adds to those stigmas and myths we all work to combat and dispell. It's not harmless to toss around these attitudes and assumptions, it hurts people who are dealing with these issues and makes people who need treatment more afraid to ask for help. It hurts the loved ones who are tying to support them and see the pain they're going through. It hurts everyone who has suffered, is suffering, and will suffer.

It also does a disservice to those who are doing the spreading. You don't deserve to believe false things, you deserve to be educated and knowledgeable about these issues that society is dealing with. You deserve to know what the symptoms of PostPartum Depression is and exactly how many women suffer. You deserve to have the confidence to be able to ask for help if you need it someday instead of ignoring your own problems because you believe the stigmas you've helped to perpetuate and spread.

Today, you're the one saying that Terrence Tyler must have had PTSD or Tiffany Klapheke must have had PostPartum Depression. But remember, one day you could be the one dealing with your own inner demons and not wanting to reach out for help because you don't want to be seen as the monster you have labeled Andrea Yates and Otty Sanchez as. It could be your son who comes back from combat with more wounds on the inside than the outside or your daughter who can't find her way out of the darkness after she has a baby. It could be you who suddenly has to fight the very attitudes you've helped foster. Why not do yourself and your loved ones a favor and take some time to educate yourself about the causes, symptoms, victims, and survivors of the various mental illnesses you think you know so much about? Educate yourself, educate your loved ones, educate the world, and maybe as that happens you'll help someone who is suffering to get help before they become a news story.

PostPartum Depression, PostPartum Psychosis, it's all the same thing, right?

There's a saying that goes "You say po-tay-to, I say po-tah-to...". I've never heard it actually used specifically in reference to the pronunciation of the word "potato"; instead, it is usually used as an illustration or argument that although two things may sound different, they're really the same thing. Sometimes this is a legitimate point. Sometimes, however, it is quite the opposite.

You might be asking "What do sayings about potatoes have to do with PostPartum Depression?". Something that I hear a lot is people talking about "She killed her child because she has PostPartum Depression". This often comes up in discussions that reference Andrea Yates and/or Otty Sanchez. Currently, I'm hearing it tossed around in reference to Chevonne Thomas, a mother with a history of mental illness and drug use who decapitated her 2 year old son and then killed herself. I would like to note, I have not read anything indicating that the cause of her actions has been determined through investigation/diagnosis by medical professionals to be a PPMD. The only diagnoses I'm seeing are coming from people around the web who are immediately jumping to the conclusion that since she was a mother and killed her child, it must be a PPMD.

Without even getting into the issues that come with immediately assuming that someone who does something bad MUST have a mental illness, and specifically that a mother would only kill her child if she had a PPMD, the issue I'd like to focus on is the misuse of the term "PostPartum Depression". Otty Sanchez and Andrea Yates did not have PPD. They were both suffering from PostPartum Psychosis.

What far too many people don't realize is that PostPartum Depression and PostPartum Psychosis are not at all the same thing. They are both PostPartum Mood Disorders but they are two separate PPMD. The terms get used interchangeably (usually, in my experience, with people substituting PostPartum Depression for PostPartum Psychosis) but that is not as it should be. It's no more accurate to think/claim that they are the same thing than it would be to say someone has Breast Cancer when what they actually have is Lung Cancer.

The Mayo Clinic lists the following as symptoms of the two:

Postpartum depression symptomsPostpartum depression may appear to be the baby blues at first — but the signs and symptoms are more intense and longer lasting, eventually interfering with your ability to care for your baby and handle other daily tasks. Postpartum depression symptoms may include:

• Loss of appetite
• Insomnia
• Intense irritability and anger
• Overwhelming fatigue
• Loss of interest in sex
• Lack of joy in life
• Feelings of shame, guilt or inadequacy
• Severe mood swing
• Difficulty bonding with the baby
• Withdrawal from family and friends
• Thoughts of harming yourself or the baby

Untreated, postpartum depression may last for a year or more.

Postpartum psychosisWith postpartum psychosis — a rare condition that typically develops within the first two weeks after delivery — the signs and symptoms are even more severe. Signs and symptoms of postpartum psychosis may include:

• Confusion and disorientation
• Hallucinations and delusions
• Paranoia
• Attempts to harm yourself or the baby

When I was being admitted for my hospitalizations for PPD a few years ago, they specifically asked if I was hearing voices or seeing things/people. I've known some people who said that when they were suffering PPP, they had an overwhelming feeling that there was a demonic force waiting to snatch their baby. Some think that they are hearing from God to kill their baby to save it from some disastrous fate. With both PPD and PPP, although there are guidelines, markers, and symptoms that health professionals look for to diagnose a PPMD, there is no guarantee that all mothers will feel an entire checklist or experience the symptoms in the same way or at the same time. In my opinion, the unpredictability is one of the things that makes PPMD so difficult. You can't just assume that someone with a PPMD will look, act, or talk a certain way. There is no one face of PPMD. There is no "This is what a PPMD always looks like or acts like".

Katherine Stone of PostPartum Progress (yes, linking to my favorite PPD blog again) has a couple of excellent posts about the Symptoms of PostPartum Anxiety and Depression and the Symptoms of PostPartum Depression. These lists are written in "Plain-Mama English". They make the symptoms a lot easier to understand and relate to, as well as getting a lot more in-depth than most symptom lists on the internet. If you're wondering about the differences between PPD and PPP, I highly recommend going to those two posts and reading what she has to say.

PostPartum Depression and PostPartum Psychosis are both horrible illnesses. They can both be completely debilitating and, if left untreated, have long-lasting and tragic consequences and implications for the new mother, her baby, her family, her friends, and any number of people. They are both illnesses that I hope someday soon will be the topic of more research and public education campaigns. Neither of them are anything I would ever wish on my worst enemy and they are both something that, in my wildest dreams, I would love to somehow see totally eradicated from the face of the earth. Yes, they have some similarities and some shared symptoms, but that doesn't mean they are the same thing or that they should be referred to as the same thing or the terms used interchangeably. Please, educate yourself on the differences between the two and then spread your knowledge on to other people. Educating ourselves and others, and being willing to speak up and say "Hey, you realize that's not accurate, right?" when we see/hear someone using the terms incorrectly is a good place to start on fighting the stigmas and combating the ignorance that surrounds PPMD.

I've set up a fundraising/donation site and FB page.

I've set up a fundraising/donation site at SponsorGoal.com for my Mrs. California entry. You can go here to view it/donate. Please feel free to share the link on your Facebook, blogs, twitter accounts, anything you can think of. I've also set up a Facebook page that can be viewed here. Something I would love to be able to take advantage of is an incentive that Sponsor Goal offers; if I get 5 people to create a campaign (for anything, from a charity to a race to a wedding), and those 5 people put my name as referring them to SponsorGoal, SponsorGoal will donate 100.00 to my campaign, regardless of whether those 5 campaigns get any money at all. The way to do this is to go to Sponsor Goal and click the link up top that says "Create". As you go through the process of creating your campaign, you'll reach a part where it asks how you heard about them. Put in my name (Esther Dale) and voila.

I have to say, I'm so deeply grateful for all of the support and encouragement I've already received from so many people. The best part of all is that it's already opened up a lot of discourse and dialog on the topic of PPMD. That's what this is all about. It's not about getting to wear a pretty dress or compete for a crown; it's about educating the public about the realities of PPMD. The fact that it's estimated that more than 1,000,000 women each year suffer in silence without getting treatment, the fact that men, grandparents, and adoptive parents can suffer PostPartum Depression too, not just a woman who gives birth; The reality that pregnancy can cause thyroid problems which can be, in my opinion, the most easily solvable root of PPMD; the fact that suicidal ideations and hospitalizations to treat them do not mean a military member will get in trouble or lose a security clearance. It's about dispelling the myths and teaching people how harmful (not to mention ignorant and wrong) it is to say things like "You just need to pray more" or "You must be sinning" or "It's just a bad mood, just get over it." or "You just had a baby. Stop being so ungrateful and start being happy". It's about letting women and their families know that they are not alone and that there's nothing wrong with struggling with PPMD. It's about educating people about the symptoms, the seriousness of PPMD, and the fact that someone demonstrating symptoms NEEDS to seek prompt medical treatment, even if it means going to the ER. It's about letting medical staff know that it's not enough to just hand out a piece of paper at the 6 week post-partum checkup but that women giving birth need to have someone actually take a few minutes to really talk to them and their partner, to say "This is what you're looking for, it's serious, don't take it lightly" and to ask "How are you doing?" and really listen and hear what they're saying. It's about letting insurance companies know that we need better access to care for those dealing with PPMD. It's about honoring the survivors, thanking the people who encourage us to speak up and get help, and remembering those who didn't make it and their families and loved ones who are left to pick up the pieces; remembering them and working to make it so that nobody else has to feel like there's only one way out.

I'm excited at the opportunity this is giving me to speak up, but I'm also sobered by thinking about the women this is for. PPMD are a very real problem in our society today and we need more openness and education.

The night I wanted to kill myself.

It was the middle of the night when I drove up and parked at the Emergency Room at Wilford Hall Medical Center on Lackland AFB. It was dark outside, and humid. I parked the car, turned it off, and just sat there for a moment, staring at the doors. "I don't have to do this. I could just turn around and go back home.". But no, I knew that I had to do it. I got out of the car and slowly walked inside. I know it only took a minute but each step seemed to take an eternity. I went inside and stepped up to the desk, sat down and produced my military dependent id card, and started filling out the paperwork that everyone has to sign when they go to the ER at Wilford Hall. The person on the other side of the desk asked something along the lines of "What are you here for today?". I took a deep breath, hesitated, and said "I'm 3 months postpartum and I want to hurt myself.". The hardest sentence I'd ever spoken. 1 year earlier, I'd been sure that nothing would ever be harder to say than to tell my parents that my then boyfriend (now husband) and I were pregnant, but I had found a phrase that was more difficult to utter.

I don't really remember too much after that. I remember that the chaplain was there with me, having woken up in the middle of the night to meet me at the ER so that I wouldn't have to do it alone. I remember that they took me straight to the back instead of leaving me in the waiting room. I had my vitals taken and gave my medical history and then I was told that I was going to be given to the Charge Nurse. I don't remember her name, just that she was an officer in the US Air Force and had blonde hair and a very kind face and compassionate tone. She embodied what a nurse should be. She walked me back to a room right outside of one of the desks so that they could have eyes on me at all times. I was given a gown to put on. The Nurse asked me more questions about what was going on. I was crying. I told her my story. I told her that I felt like such a horrible mom and wife for abandoning my husband and baby daughter, that I felt so ashamed, that I was worried that someone would come to take my daughter away, that I was concerned that my husband would lose his security clearance because of me, that I was scared. The truth was, I wasn't scared. I was beyond terrified. I was terrified of how I felt, of what I might do to myself or my baby, and terrified that this would never end.

She was so kind to me. She told me that she had dealt with PPD and that there was nothing wrong with me that couldn't get better and that I hadn't done anything wrong but that I had done something very right by coming to the ER. She told me "I had PPD really bad and now look at me, I'm an officer in the Air Force and a nurse.". That was slightly reassuring. She told me "You will get through this, it won't last forever." and then wasn't offended that that was hard for me to believe.

I was given a gown to change into and my clothes and shoes were taken away, they made sure that there was nothing in the room that I could hurt myself with. They drew blood and ran an EKG on me, explaining that it was to make sure that there wasn't an underlying medical problem causing this. Everything came back normal and a doctor came in and talked to me. I said that yes, I would consent to being hospitalized and off he went to find out which facility out in town had room for me since neither of the military hospitals in town accepted dependents on a Psych hold, only Active Duty. Eventually, I was told that I was going to go to Laurel Ridge. The Chaplain prayed with me and eventually went home while I tried to get some sleep. Really I just laid there in the dark feeling so upset and ashamed, so weak, broken, feeling like a failure, waiting for the ambulance to come pick me up to transfer me to Laurel Ridge. That wouldn't happen until about 8:00am.

It was the longest night of my life. I laid there thinking that it was one of the worst nights of my life and that nothing would ever be the same again, that nothing would ever be better. I felt like I had let my family down. I can't really put into words properly all the emotions that were running through me, I can't depict how it felt. I was lying in a room by myself in the dark where I had to have the door open at all times, I had no privacy. I had to let them know if I needed to use the restroom. I felt dirty, ashamed, broken. It was one of the most humbling experiences I have ever been through. I can't even remember every detail, there's so much about the months leading up to that night, and that night itself, that are a hazy blur. I was there and I hated myself for it. I cried the entire night and a very good portion of the next day. If I finally settled down, someone could just glance in my direction and I would start back up again. I felt every emotion I possibly could and yet I felt nothing. I second guessed whether I should have gone. I was sure that I would regret it in the morning. I kept waiting for someone to ask me where my daughter was so they could take her away. I hated myself, what I had become, what I had almost done, and what I had done. Anyone who thinks that it's easy to admit to having suicidal ideations, PostPartum Depression, needing help, is mistaken. I literally felt like I was in a deep, black hole without any windows and without any sunlight even coming in from above. I wasn't sure I would survive.

I did.

I don't tell you this story to scare you if you need to seek help. I tell this story because I want people to know that I have been there. If you're there now, you will make it through. There is hope, there is help. If you know someone who is in this place right now, don't judge them. They're already doing a good enough job of that on their own. They need your help to be strong.

I tell this story to tell the world that not only did I survive, I came out a stronger and better person. I am a fighter. I am a warrior. I am a survivor. I am proud of it.

PostPartum OCD

I recently read about a condition I had never heard of before called Post-Partum Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

"Postpartum Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is the most misunderstood and misdiagnosed of the perinatal disorders. It is estimated that as many as 3-5% of new mothers will experience these symptoms. Symptoms of perinatal OCD can include:

• Obsessions, also called intrusive thoughts, which are persistent, repetitive thoughts or mental images related to the baby. These thoughts are very upsetting and not something the woman has ever experienced before.

• Compulsions, where the mom may do certain things over and over again to reduce her fears and obsessions. This may include things like needing to clean constantly, check things many times, count or reorder things.

• A sense of horror about the obsessions

• Fear of being left alone with the infant

• Hypervigilance in protecting the infant  

Moms with postpartum OCD know that their thoughts are bizarre and are very unlikely to ever act on them.
Risk factors for postpartum OCD include a personal or family history of anxiety or OCD.
Postpartum OCD is temporary and treatable with professional help. If you feel you may be suffering from one of this illness, know that it is not your fault and you are not to blame. You can use our resource page to reach out now. We understand what you are going through and will connect you to people who understand and can help. http://www.postpartum.net/Get-the-Facts/Postpartum-OCD.aspx"

From http://ppdcenter.com/What_Is_PPD_.html:

"Postpartum Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
The PPD symptoms may also be mixed with anxiety symptoms that take on an obsessive (thoughts) and/or compulsive (behaviors) feature OR these may be experienced without depressive symptoms.
According to Postpartum Support International, "This disorder is one of the most under-recognized and under-treated types of perinatal mood disorders. It occurs in approximately 3 to 5 % of new mothers, yet it can be most alarming for a new mother. The symptoms include intrusive and persistent thoughts or mental images and a sense of horror about the thoughts/images. The thoughts are typically accompanied by behaviors to reduce the overwhelming anxiety that accompanies the thoughts."
These compulsive, ritualistic behaviors often include checking baby frequently, obsessively searching for information on the internet/books, etc. For example, a mother may have an irrational fear that she is going to drop the baby down the stairs. Consequently, she may avoid using the stairs or even going near a staircase. These mothers are NOT in danger of harming their infants and are disturbed by these troubling thoughts."
Again, if you or a loved one are experiencing the afore-mentioned symptoms, call your physician because help is easily available. "

The bolded is actually one of the biggest things I worried about when I was experiencing PPD before I got treatment. I wish that this was something that was more widely known about. Do your part to help spread the word and educate people about the various PostPartum disorders and to combat the stigmas that so often come along with them.

I started Zoloft this week

I'm now 38 weeks and 4 days. I have 9 days left until my due date. So far, my thyroid levels have stayed under control and so have my weight and my hormones/emotions. Well, as much as hormones/emotions stay under control in pregnancy. LOL My perinatal doctor continued to check my thyroid levels every 4 weeks all the way through pregnancy and since my levels were normal at my 36 week check-up, I won't have to see him again. Yay for normal levels!

My midwives started me on Zoloft this week. It's an antidepressant (an SSRI) that is safe for pregnancy and breastfeeding. I haven't had any symptoms of depression but we're doing it as a preventative measure. I suspect that as long as we keep my Thyroid managed, I won't have any issues with PPD but I'd rather be safe than sorry and to know that I did everything possible to avoid issues this time around.

It was actually a hard decision for me, whether to start Zoloft or just rely on the thyroid medication. I know, I know, it should be a no brainer to take it right? The problem was, I felt like starting Zoloft made the possibility of having PPD again seem that much more real. Sort of like, if I ignore it and don't treat it it's not really a threat and won't happen. I didn't want to take it and remember the place I was at before, when I did have PPD last time. The deciding factor for me, after wrestling with the decision, was when a girl I knew from an online forum killed herself. It was sort of a slap in the face, a reminder of what depression can do from an outside perspective instead of just looking at it from "what did it make ME feel". It was also a reality check that "Hey, this is nothing to play around with.". I came to the conclusion that nobody will judge me or look down on me for taking it, and if they do then they are probably not someone I really want to be friends with... but you better believe that before I say Adios there'd be a little chat about PPD and the effects it can have on the mom, her family and friends, every aspect of her life, and how the stigma attached should not be there and how no it really doesn't mean someone is crazy or any less of a human/woman/Christian/whatever.

A flashback

I had a little bit of a flashback today to how I used to feel before the depression was diagnosed and gotten under control. Elizabeth got away from me upstairs and made it to the staircase before I did. Yes, indeed, she took a nice long tumble down 16 stairs. Fortunately, she rolled instead of going head over heels. I immediately took her to the ER to get checked out and they said that she looks okay and there doesn't appear to be any damage other than scrapes and bruises. We just have to keep an eye on her tonight to make sure nothing bad develops.

I felt SO guilty. I know deep down inside that it's an accident but still. This little voice inside me goes "Your her mother. You're supposed to protect her and take care of her. You failed.". The guilt has been awful and I feel like the worst mother ever. I keep flashing back to her tumble and hearing and seeing the thuds and cries and then her screams at the bottom of the stairs. The longest and thus far, most horrifying few seconds of my life. It felt like it was forever.

It reminds me of how I felt when I went to the ER with PPD. The difference is, this time I can cope better. This time I can tell myself "It's not your fault" and sort of kind of believe it. I still don't feel any better about what happened but at least I can COPE. When I start to get the panic attacks, instead of having to take an Ativan, I can stop and insert reality and breathe slowly for a few minutes. When I think "She could have been killed or badly injured!" I remind myself that she wasn't really injured at all and that this is one of those things that happens with kids. The fact that I can even stop and think it through, much less calm myself down without medication, is a HUGE deal and I consider it a big milestone.

I'm me!

3 months of medication for my thyroid has done what the Celexa and Lexapro and Ativan never could quite do... I feel like myself again! I think it's a misnomer to say that I feel like my old self again, I will never feel like my old self again because I will never BE my old self again. I've had a daughter, adjusted to motherhood, struggled with PPD and suicidal ideations and all the feelings of guilt and inadequacy that come with PPD, and some much more. I'd like to think that I am a stronger woman and to some degree, wiser and more mature although I don't know how far that goes. :P However, I am happy with who I am and where I am and I feel like a PERSON again. I feel like I've stepped out of a land of shadows into the daylight.

I've come off of the antidepressants totally, the last time Celexa touched my lips was March 30 and I haven't had Ativan since December. I'm doing great, I haven't had any relapses into wanting to hurt or kill myself or anyone else, I haven't been sick or anything, I've barely even had any issues with RLS. I'm so incredibly happy to finally be off the meds. It was with the blessing of my psychologist and the GP I saw at the Family Medicine Clinic. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. All the glory for this belongs to God. As incredibly off as my thyroid was (the numbers were HIDEOUS), there's no way that I *should* have gotten to Within Normal Limits in 3 months and on only the second dose they put me on (started on .25 and am now holding steady at .50) but I am not only okay on my thyroid, I'm off the antidepressants faster and easier than I *should* have been.