LizaMarie Parker
7 min readJan 7, 2019
You are not alone…

The surprising truth about postpartum depression (PPD) is that it can affect any new parent, including fathers, same-sex partners, and even adoptive parents. PPD does not discriminate!

As any (honest) parent will tell you — having a new baby is stressful, uncomfortable, exhausting, and just plain gross! That same parent also knows there are times when their hearts feel so full, they could explode.

It‘s a lot like a rollercoaster ride, full of ups and downs and unexpected twists, but for a certain group of moms, parenthood feels a lot more like “going off the rails.”

No matter how much you love your children, having a newborn flips your world upside down, then shakes it around for good measure. Then you realize that being a good parent is a lifelong commitment — which is sorta terrifying!

It’s no wonder some women struggle with postpartum depression after childbirth. Having a baby is a beautiful gift, but not all women feel overwhelming bliss when they untie the ribbon on that bundle of joy.

According to the American Psychological Association, up to 1 in 7 women will develop PPD after giving birth in the United States. To be clear, we’re not talking about the “baby blues,” which is a common reaction to the hormonal shifts after giving birth.

These feelings pass quickly without any help, while postpartum depression is a serious mood disorder that doesn’t “just go away” on its own. Women previously diagnosed with depression are especially vulnerable to PPD.

To complicate the situation even further, having a traumatic birth experience (whether real or perceived) can also lead to cases of postpartum post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The risk is real for new moms, yet many women don’t even realize it.

A hallmark study performed in 2001 by St. George’s Hospital Medical School warned:

“It is important to increase awareness about the disorder and to give health professionals access to simple screening tools. Intervention is possible at several levels, but further research is needed to guide this intervention.”

While postpartum PTSD affects far fewer women than PPD, the lack of data creates a significant maternal health issue because some women aren’t even aware that it can affect them; leaving a glaring gap in modern postpartum health.

Though this issue may apply to a small population, women who experience traumatic birth can develop PTSD as severe as a combat veteran. That’s worth exploring.

You might be asking, “how could the mental anguish caused by going to war possibly compare to the joy of having a baby?” I asked the same question after my PTSD diagnosis in 2013.

Just as some soldiers go to war and return scarred by PTSD, a small population of women has fought a battle in the delivery room, the NICU, and even their own living rooms. But when the “front lines” are your home, it’s a challenge to leave the battleground behind and reclaim life before the trauma.

Writer Ilana E. Strauss of Atlantic Magazine describes it this way:

“…soldiers can leave combat behind, new mothers can’t just avoid triggers by avoiding their children.”

The risk factor is high because researchers are at the beginning stages of studying the link between the childbirth-related trauma and PTSD. This is an important development for women of childbearing age.

The medical community now acknowledges postpartum PTSD as a significant women’s health issue and researchers are now taking steps to find causes, treatments, and preventative measures for this group of women.

PTSD occurs less within the female population as a whole, but women can experience symptoms that last 4 times longer. A review article published in 2005 acknowledges:

women with PTSD arguably experience a greater symptom burden, longer course of illness and have worse quality-of-life outcomes than men.

Researchers have over 70 years of data on combat veterans suffering from PTSD, while the link to traumatic birth is a recent development.

While the term post-traumatic stress disorder was formally introduced in the psychiatric lexicon in 1980, scientists have studied “shell-shock” and “war fatigue” since the mid 20th Century.

Now that the medical community recognizes the postpartum link, continuing research shows postpartum PTSD can wreak havoc on the entire family.

Regrettably, I know this first-hand.

Take it from me, I’ve suffered under the thumb of PPD and postpartum PTSD for the entirety of my children’s lives.

Though I enjoyed two uneventful pregnancies, each ended in a traumatic birth experience — leaving me with scars that have yet to completely fade.

My story begins back in 2010 when we brought our first son home after a 7-day stay in the NICU at Stanford hospital. It was a terrible experience, but we were relieved that he was healthy and happy after his rough start.

I felt a deep regret like I had lost something that could never be returned. As much as I wanted to be “overjoyed” with my new life as a mother, severe postpartum depression became a thief of happiness.

Eventually, PTSD would become its accomplice.

When kiddo number 2 came along, I was grateful for another uneventful pregnancy. I was happily expecting a positive outcome, even though my heart still craved redemption for the disappointment I had felt 3 years earlier.

I was counting on a smooth delivery and bringing my newborn home after a night or two in the hospital. Things just had to be better this time around, right?!

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way…

Our second baby boy was delivered via emergency C-section after he stopped moving around 38.5 weeks. What came next was a whirlwind of panic and trauma that I still haven’t fully reconciled in the 5 years since his birth.

Born without a sound, he came into this world blue and floppy (exact words from his discharge paperwork), earning an APGAR score of 1 out of 10.

In an instant, my son had been ripped from my body and whisked away in a desperate bid to save his life.

This time around, my newborn son stayed in the NICU for 21 excruciating days. The most heartbreaking part of the entire experience was not being able to see or touch my son for the first 24 hours of his life.

I wasn’t even able to catch a glimpse of my baby as the doctors and nurses raced to the NICU, fighting to keep him alive.

His first day of life was spent in isolation hooked to tubes and machines, forming an insurmountable barrier between us.

It was devastating.

Once again, I was discharged from the hospital without a baby cradled in my arms, his empty car seat a sad reminder of the all too familiar circumstance.

Once again, I was grief-stricken; inconsolable.

At home, I cried for a week straight, unable to function. The pain and despair were physical; my heart throbbing with the need to hold my child.

Guilt coursed through me knowing that someone else was taking care of my baby when it should have been me. I knew I had lost something that I could never recover — those first moments with your newborn child.

A few weeks later, we brought our sweet boy home right before Mother’s Day 2013 — the BEST gift ever! I was excited about his homecoming, but I continued to struggle with unrelenting PPD, still unaware of the link to post-traumatic stress disorder.

After his homecoming, I was unable to look at pictures of my newborn because I couldn’t bear seeing him with tubes and wires coming from all directions. When I inadvertently saw those images, my thoughts would race back to that frantic operating room, forcing me to relive the nightmare and feel the terror again.

It was like having a blaring TV screen in your mind that won’t turn off.

It took a fresh-faced pediatric intern to point out the connection between moms of NICU babies and PTSD to me. She recognized the risk for me, even though we were at my son’s first “well-baby” appointment.

According to her (and current studies), all those sleepless nights, vivid flashbacks, feelings of hyper-vigilance, and exaggerated startle responses were textbook symptoms of PTSD.

It was a revelation!

I was grateful to have an explanation for my feelings, but it’s taken me a long time to get to a point where I can open up about my experience.

As our national dialogue about mental health expands, I hope that more new moms feel like they can open up about their struggles. Or anyone, for that matter!

So many women have already suffered in silence, fearing the embarrassment of looking weak.

But openly admitting that you struggle with depression, PTSD, or any other mental health issue is NOT a sign of weakness — it’s a symbol of strength and resilience.

You should know that you are definitely not alone.

*There’s someone available to talk 24/7 if you need it!

(SAMHSA): 1–800–662-HELP (4357)***

Sources:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/11380382

http://capture-group.nl/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Graaff_et_al-2018-Acta_Obstetricia_et_Gynecologica_Scandinavica.pdf

https://www.ptsd.va.gov/ptsd/professional/articles/article-pdf/id12012.pdf

LizaMarie Parker

Doing my best to stay positive in this crazy, mixed-up world we live in!