The power of a good man's support

In the discussions about PostPartum Depression, the focus is often on women and the struggles we face (go figure). Today, though, I’d like to focus on some people who are too often overlooked: men.

Recently, a friend of mine read one of my blog posts and related an experience he had with a friend who was dealing with PPD. The discussion was on Facebook and my mom commented with something I completely agree with: never underestimate the power of the love and support of a good man.

I was fortunate to have the support of several good men when I was fighting my own battle with PPD. First and foremost, my husband. He had to learn as much as I did, he had to pick up the slack when I couldn’t cope, he had to deal with my mood swings, he had to learn to deal and cope just as I did. He did so with an incredible amount of grace and strength. He was always there for me, always loved me, always supported me. He never blew me off or told me to just suck it up. He listened to me and heard me on a deeper level than just the words I was speaking, he heard what I meant.

I didn’t tell very many friends or family what I was going through because I was afraid that none of them would understand or that they would turn their backs on me or (in one specific case) use it against me in a fight or something. Of the few friends I did tell, one of my dearest friends is like a sister to me and she helped us watch Elizabeth the second time I was in the hospital. Naturally, her husband knew what was going on and he was nothing but supportive of me. He prayed for me and made sure we knew that he supported us through it all.

My dad was one of the only family members who knew at the time and he was also supportive; our family didn’t really know a lot about PPD at that point but he never let that stop him from just loving on me and making sure I knew he was there for me. He happily let us borrow my mom when we needed help with Elizabeth during hospitalizations.

The Elders/missionaries from church (we’re LDS) were incredibly supportive as well. They offered to come visit, give me a blessing, pray for me, help with the house, or do whatever we needed. Most of all though, they never once made me feel like my PPD was a sign of a lack of faith or need to pray more or a consequence of sin or any of the other lovely things that Christians too often insinuate and/or outright say when a woman is dealing with PPD. They were just there.

These men are far from the only examples I have of people who loved an supported me through my journey, but they are the men who first come to mind with regards to the particular topic of this post. See, you don’t have to be a woman to support someone through PPD, and you don’t have to be her husband or even family to love her and support her.

So to all the men out there who feel helpless and powerless, who feel like “There’s nothing I can offer/do to support the woman in my life who’s dealing with PPD”, please just toss that concept right out the window. You can be just as much of a help and support, your love and kindness can make just as much of a difference to her as that of the other women she knows.

Part 1 of an incomplete story

I want to share my story about PostPartum Depression in hopes that it will help someone else out there.

I suffer from Post-Partum Depression. I thought at first that the Baby Blues were just passing. It seemed to get a little better but things never completely went back to normal. Then things started to get worse again. I was having trouble sleeping, I was always down, I was irritable, I had no interest in doing anything, and I slowly began to feel more and more trapped. I had nightmares. I was always sluggish and exhausted but I could never sleep at night. I didn't know what was wrong with me and I felt like I would never know what it was like to feel like myself again. I had no interest in sex, my appetite diminished and I hated having to make myself eat for the sake of my milk supply.I felt like I was a horrible mom and wife and I started to feel like I was worthless. At my 6-week post-partum checkup, the care provider I saw didn't ask me anything about how I was feeling. She didn't even look at the questionnaire I filled out, and if she had they probably would have put me on medication then and there. I forgot to ask if what I was feeling was normal.

Finally, I started feeling like I wanted to hurt myself, and I was afraid I was going to hurt my baby. One night it got really bad and I was actually thinking about throwing myself down the stairs or OD'ing on whatever I could find in the house. Several people on an internet forum called MSOS had been telling me that they thought it sounded like I had symptoms of PPD and that I should talk to a doctor but I didn't. I felt like it would be an admission of being a bad mother and I was worried that they would take away my baby or take away my husband's security clearance or cause other problems. The night that it got so bad I posted something under DearSOS (it didn't get approved due to them not approving suicidal messages but Brandi pm'd me to make sure i was okay and I really appreciate it). I finally decided to call the Chaplain. He told me I should probably go to the ER to talk to someone and that if I wanted, he would meet me there so I didn't have to go alone. I did.

I ended up being admitted to the hospital for a little over a week. I was put on medication and went to therapy sessions there at the hospital. Within a few days of starting medication, i started to feel better and my mom and my husband started being able to notice a difference in my voice even just talking to me on the phone. The staff at the hospital reassured me and helped me realize that I was not crazy and that what I was experiencing was normal. I felt so guilty over voluntarily leaving my husband and baby and I thought I was the worst wife and mother ever but they helped me realize I was not, that it made me a good wife and mother and that I was doing what I was to help my baby. Once I started on medication, I had to stop breastfeeding Elizabeth. I also felt guilty about that but I finally realized that it was far better for her and for me and my family that I received the help I needed than to not get what I needed just for the sake of giving her breastmilk.

After I was released, I felt better than I had in a really long time. I finally realized that what I was experiencing was due to a hormonal imbalance in my body and it WASN'T my fault and that I didn't have any reason to feel guilty. I ended up back at the hospital a moth later for suicidal tendencies again, they had to adjust my medication and then I was good to go again.

Since then, things have been far from perfect. I'm still on Ambien to help me sleep, Ativan as needed for anxiety, and they changed me to Celexa for the antidepressant (I was on Lexapro but it's a non-formulary for TriCare). 4 months later I still have yet to see a psychiatrist outside of the hospital I was admitted to, due to the doctor's office yanking me around with scheduling, and other psychiatrist's offices in the area being pretty horrid or booked full or whatever... but things are better. I have interest in activities again, I enjoy getting out of the house and I enjoy (for the most part) taking care of my baby. I'm not perfect and I still have my problems and I've had some downswings lately that make me think my medication may need to be adjusted again, but overall I feel a lot better.

Recently, I found out that I have hypothyroidism. Apparently this can often be brought on after pregnancy as a result of the strain that pregnancy can put on your body. I have been started on a medication called Synthroid that should help regulate my Thyroid. When the nurse called to tell me the news I was so excited that I almost cried. The reason? Hypothyroidism can cause things like PPD (among other symptoms). By getting my thyroid under control, it should make my PPD clear up. To me, it's the light at the end of what has been a very long, very dark tunnel. I feel hopeful about this for the first time in a while. However, to get the answers about my thyroid, I had to keep pushing and advocating for myself. You are always your best advocate.

I tell you my story in hopes that someone out there will benefit from it in some way. If you have a baby and don't feel right, TELL SOMEONE. If you feel like hurting yourself or someone else, get help. Go to the ER if you have to. It's a really hard decision to make and embarrassing at first, but it's the best thing to do. PPD can be treated and you can get help and doing so does not make you a bad person. Suffering from PPD does not make you a bad person or crazy. It is treatable and eventually you should be able to stop taking medication. You can have a normal life again, there is a light at the end of the tunnel and you can get help. If you know someone who has PPD, let them know you support them. If you know someone who seems to be having problems and you think they need help, talk to them. Sometimes, encouraging them to talk to someone, offering to go to the doctor with them, offering to do whatever you can to help them with babysitting or whatever, can be the encouragement they need to seek the help they need. If they need facts, help them do the research. Above all, support them. Let them know you love them and are there for them no matter what. That is what my family and friends have done for me and it has been one of the most helpful things through this whole experience.

With this blog, I hope to raise more awareness for Post Partum Depression and the women and families who live with this diagnosis. Stay tuned, and if you have any contributions, send them in to me. I'm always interested in hearing others stories. I'm also interested in hearing ideas on how to get involved with raising public awareness about the truth of PPD.