Saturday, March 6, 2010

PPD - Why Good days matter

WARNING: If you don't want to read about reality, close your browser.

PPD?
Yes, PPD.
what is PPD? Post-partum Depression. Yup, it happened to me.
It started at about 2 weeks after having Balian, but it took me about 5 months to really understand what the problem was.

Because it didn't come across as 'depression', so to speak. It came across as anger. frustration. feeling out-of-control emotionally. acting out in anger. screaming. then feeling guilty about it and crying for the rest of the day. I didn't think that I was nothing, just because. I thought that I was nothing because I couldn't control my emotions - and I'd scream at Bella at the top of my lungs (for minor things), know what I was doing in the process, but felt helpless to stop what was going on, then feeling like I was the worst mother in the world for what I did.

Rather than feeling like I should nurture Balian when he cried, I would get angry and frustrated. I would try to calm him, which would fail because he picked up on my stress, which would make me even more frustrated. I got scared to go into his room to take care of him at night, fearing that I would be too rough with him because of my frustration. when babies get stressed out, it causes all kinds of problems...with me being stressed, I know he was stressed...probably a good reason why we were having so many problems with everything.

The entire time, I'm thinking "man, having 2 kids is so stinkin' hard!" then, I'd look around at other people who had 2 kids, and they didn't seem to be having any problems adjusting - they seemed to be handling it so well. Then, I started thinking in the back of my mind "maybe I just have some baby blues." But the longer things went on, the more it built up, the more I saw, and the more it scared me. Sure, I'd have some good days - and I'd think it was over. Then, just when I thought I had nothing to worry about, BAM! I had a HORRIBLE day that seemed to come out of nowhere. I was bluntly honest with Neil as far as what was going on, especially because he never saw any of it. Everything that I am describing here happened either when Neil wasn't at home, or while he was sleeping at night. Of course, my husband just didn't really understand what I was talking about, or how bad things were. I never yelled at Neil. I always felt like when he was around, that I was part of a team. He calmed me. So he just didn't get why I was so upset. He was as supportive as he could be. He helped me with the kids and dinner and everything else, as much as he could. yup. my team. he was awesome!

About 3 weeks ago, I hit a breaking point. Bella, Balian, and I were in Balian's room. Balian started crying for some reason while he was playing on the floor. I got frustrated. Then Bella, being the 2-yr. old that she is - did something trivial that is typical for 2-yr-olds. But I, being already frustrated and stressed out, with Balian crying in the background, flipped out. I screamed at Bella to come over to where I was, then proceeded to scream at her in her face, at the top of my lungs, while grabbing her shoulders, and feeling this rush of what felt like a lightening bolt flashing through my body and out my fingers, toes, and head. Like I was so angry that I not only felt it emotionally, but also physically. But while this was happening, it was like I was outside my body looking at what was going on - and I felt powerless to stop it. After I kinda snapped out of it, I of course felt horrible, and cried the rest of the day, understandably feeling like I was a failure of a mother - wanting my kids to have better than what they currently had, and wondering why on earth God would entrust such beautiful babies into my care.

I realized then that something had to give. This wasn't me. this isn't who I am. I'm not an angry person. I'm not a yeller or screamer. I would never yell at Bella before Balian was born. I consider myself to be a pretty patient person - with a good amount of self-control. What was wrong with me, and why wasn't it going away?
The only thing that I could relate it to, was how I was when I was a hormonal pre-teen, when I would get so frustrated that I would scream in my mother's face, then immediately start crying - for what seemed like forever. Could what I was experiencing now, be somehow related? Could it simply be a hormonal thing?

I dove into research. looking up signs of PPD, risk factors, and the like. I found and took a short assessment made by some people that had done extensive research on PPD. Although I didn't think it was completely thorough, it did open my eyes to what was going on - especially after reading that anger could be a sign of PPD - not just being sad.

so, what did I do?
1. I read that B-vitamins could help with stress - and my mom suggested that as well. So I started taking a B-vitamin complex everyday.

2. we bought a treadmill so that I could run consistently, when the kids were napping or after they went to bed at night. If you've ever seen the movie Legally Blond, you'll remember the quote "exercise produces endorphins. endorphins make people happy. happy people just don't kill their husbands." I needed some of those endorphins. quick. I've been running about 2-3x/ week, increasing my mileage slowly.

3. I prayed...well, continued to pray. I'd been praying my heart out the entire time - I just didn't really know what I was praying for. I just knew that I was desperate. My prayers changed. Instead of them being along the lines of "God, why am I like this? just make this go away." it was "I believe that you're my healer. I believe you can heal this, whether supernaturally or through the wisdom of doctors. I know that you heal and that you are able." I prayed for victory. It's amazing how prayers can change when you actually know what you're up against. I went up to the alter for prayer and healing at church for the first time in my life, that I remember.

4. I also went ahead and made an appointment with an OB/GYN to talk to them about everything, and see if getting on the pill (which I swore I would never do again) would help.

For 3 weeks, we didn't have a single bad day!
I went to the doctor, and she said that especially considering the risk-factors of moving twice, buying a house, job change, and all the rest, that it was no wonder I was feeling the way I was - I was not only hormonal, I was a stress-mess! She did put me on the pill, which I haven't started yet, but I'm interested to see if it helps at all.
Since going to the doctor I've had 2 bad days, but not nearly to the extent that it has been before. The fight isn't over, but things seem to be turning around drastically.

So why do good days matter so much?

The more good days I have, the less bad days I have. The more good days I have, the more confidence I have. The more good days I have, the more I believe that what has been going on does not define who I am. More good days equal more days that I feel like myself again. And the more I feel like myself again...the more good days I have. :)