The Unseen Struggle
Today’s story comes from Elyse in Colorado. She shares about her struggle with postpartum depression after the birth of her second child in January. You can find her on Instagram at @songbirdelyse
Adjusting to a new baby is hard. Whether you’re a first or fifth time mom. While you are absolutely in love with your newest addition, the adjustment is intense. I didn’t struggle with any postpartum depression (PPD) with my first child, but I had a feeling my second would be different. The entire pregnancy was rough. I was physically miserable and mentally and emotionally fragile. It took a toll on my relationships, and on my life in general.
Dare I say it was possibly the worst 9 months of my life?
But then I had my daughter, and she was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a more amazing little girl, and she’s been such a joy. But the adjustment was hard. I was exhausted and spread thin.
In the midst of that my doctor wanted to reduce my anxiety medication dosage. Looking back, I should have said no. I was irritable, emotional, and angry for no reason. I holed up in my house away from everyone while I tried to adjust. I felt like every time I took a step forward in one area, I’d take two steps backward somewhere else.
But after a month of this new reality, it slowly became the norm.
I finally felt like I was starting to adjust to my new reality, and then the virus hit. Everything was turned upside down again. I had enjoyed having my older kids at school while my baby was new, but suddenly they were with me 24/7.
I felt selfish to be upset over my world change, so I tried to bury it.
But in doing so, I spiraled out of control.
Crying and yelling frequently.
Believing I was worthless.
Feeling gross.
Feeling ugly.
Feeling like a failure.
Feeling like people would be better off without me.
I had pushed everyone away and hadn’t been a stable or enjoyable person to be around. But I needed people. I needed my friends, I needed a break, I needed someone to care. But I was alone.
The hurt, pain, anger, and depression I faced consumed me despite my best efforts to rely on my faith in Jesus to help me persevere. I was able to increase my anxiety medicine again, which has helped a lot. But the pain remains.
As everyone is dealing with difficulties during this strange time, it often feels hard to share about my struggles. They can feel ‘small’ compared to what others face. After all, I am so very blessed with the family I have and the life I live. I feel like I have no space to complain. My one source of sanity has been the few people that have continued to support me by continuously checking in on me. I am deeply grateful for their help.
I can’t adequately explain the immense pain it causes when you need people so badly — you need your best friends and your family — but you can’t see them. FaceTime is not the same. Zoom is not the same. My mom cannot hold my baby through Zoom. My friend can’t give me a break for a nap or a shower via FaceTime. I’ve never in my life experienced the type of pain and anxiety that the PPD has caused. It’s palpably real, and serious, even though it doesn’t always make rational sense.
Through this experience I have learned that we are all fighting internal battles that others can’t see. I like to encourage others to (try to) remember that when they are interacting with others. It can be hard to recognize that when someone wants to see you — even amidst a global pandemic — it’s because they love you and they need you. It saddens me to see people being shamed when they reach out for social interaction. On top of everything else, I’ve been judged for my willingness to be around others, even though the majority of the people doing so are still going to work and stores.
While the fear of physical illness is very real, I am much more afraid of the mental health toll COVID-19 is taking on new moms. Not to mention people stuck in abusive relationships, those who already struggle with depression and anxiety, and our children, whose worlds have also been turned upside-down.
I debated whether or not to share my story because there is such a stigma attached to PPD, but I share it now in the hope this will reach someone else who is or was struggling in a similar way. I hope it enables others to feel less alone, and less like an outcast.
I rest in my faith that Jesus is king over all, and no matter how things spiral out of control around us, He is and always will be in total control. This gives me strength on the darkest and hardest days.
Keep faith, and be kind to others. You never know what they’re fighting inside.
