I’ve been more reflective this week than usual and today especially. It was exactly this week last year that I realized I had fully lost my mind. Yup, I went crazy. I mean like rocking back and forth, unable to eat or sleep, barely putting two words together to form a coherent sentence…crazy.
I couldn’t handle the idea of Matt leaving for work without breaking out into sobs and serious sweats. I kept worrying about what I would do if Laura didn’t nap while he was gone. What would I do with her? Then I would think, what if she does sleep and I try to sleep and she wakes up…what then? I was convinced Laura hated me and that I couldn’t give her what she needed, that if left in my care, she wouldn’t thrive. Yup, certifiably crazy.
A year ago I totally became a different person. For the first time in my life I couldn’t control my thoughts, my body, or my actions. Poor Mathew. God bless that man forever for being so strong and giving me whatever I needed to ease my crazy mind. He would just tell me to repeat to myself that “I am okay in this moment.” That is how I survived in the beginning. Just repeating (out loud while rocking back and forth) that I was okay in that moment. Things just kept getting worse. I went over 72 hours without being able to sleep. I lost I don’t even know how much weight because I couldn’t eat. The worst was the anger, fear, and sadness when I held my newborn, sweet Laura. I wanted nothing to do with her.
Then…it got worse. I can admit it now for the sake of mothers who may be struggling with this and for my own healing…I wanted her gone. (By the way, I want to bawl and vomit as I write this part). I wanted nothing to do with her. (Big breath, Katie. You can say this because it’s not true and wasn’t your fault….) I wanted to hurt her. It was at that very moment that I knew I needed help. I went to Matt sobbing hysterically telling him I couldn’t do it without help. And without hesitation and full of pure faith in God that we’d be able to pay our bills, he told me to fly my mom back down here. (I have tears now just thinking about how amazing of a man God blessed me with.) Debbers, being the incredible person she is, called the church and told them she’d be gone for while (she’s a church secretary) and told me not to worry, she’d be there soon.
Words cannot describe what Matt and my mom did for me during that time. God used them in ways I’m not sure they’ll ever understand to bring me out of the depths of postpartum depression. I shudder even thinking about what could have happened to Laura and myself if God hadn’t given me the help I needed. It was nothing short of pure grace. My mom came and I could sleep, actually sleep knowing Laura was being taken care of and it didn’t have to be me. I could focus on getting better. The medication kicked in and my many sessions with my counselor made it possible for me to function again. It took a full month for me to wake up and feel like myself again…to feel like the cloud and haze was gone…to be able to hold and LOVE my little girl.
PPD robbed me of two months with Laura…thankfully, today, you’d never ever know. That sweet & sassy little girl (who is currently gabbing away in her crib…not sleeping…and guess who’s not freaking out?? This momma!!!) comes to me for comfort, for play, for nourishment, for LOVE. God is so good. He never left me. He carried me. He picked me up through the people in my life who rescued me when I was at my absolute worst. I’m forever grateful to Him, Mathew, and my mom for helping when I couldn’t move out of it. I’m a stay-at-home mom and remarkably Laura is THRIVING and added bonus…so am I.
Thank you for never leaving or forsaking me. Thank you for Matt and my mom. Thank you for medication, doctors, and therapists. Thank you for Laura and her resilience. Thank for rescuing me. Thank for this blessed life.
In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.
For information about PostPartum Depression, check the following website:http://www.postpartumprogress.com/ They also have an amazing facebook group! So many survivors and support!