Thursday, 02 February 2012
I remember before I was pregnant hearing horror stories about postpartum. I always thought those woman were crazy, in all honesty. I didn't understand and really don't think you can unless you've had it. I had a friend whose husband would tell me about her hospital trips and he missed work often because she was "losing it."
After I had my daughter, I had some PP issues. I thought it was more of the fact that my daughter was just born after 12 weeks of wondering if my daughter would live and then dealing with her health issues after I had her. It was hard emotionally. I had two boys, a newborn with oxygen and at home nurses coming a few times a day. I was stressed beyond what I thought I could handle.
I got on some medication and after a year (yes, a year) I was able to get off it and feel normal. My crying subsided and I felt more equip to deal with the world.
After my son I had it really bad though. There were days my husband couldn't go to work or would have to come home. The overwhelming feelings I had were enough to put me in the crazy house (they didn't, surprisingly enough). I went to the Dr crying. I remember my son crying (he had reflex, colic, solely breastfed, cried. all. the. time) in his office and my doctor grabbing him and holding him while I sat on the chair in my 6 week check up bawling and unwilling to leave his office. This wasn't me. I can handle everything, I really can but that wasn't in my control. How I felt wasn't in my control.
We sat in his exam room for over an hour talking about what postpartum was. He reassured me I would be okay and we just needed to find a balance for me. He didn't call me crazy, I didn't feel like he judged me and he was more than willing to help me find an option that would work best for me.
My mother in law ended up staying an extra month to help. Every time she booked her ticked it would send me into his horrible, anxiety ridden attack so she would move her ticket date and hug me and tell me it was okay. Chuck and her were amazing and Lord only knows where I would have been without their support. It was bad, really really really bad. I didn't WANT to feel like that but I didn't have a choice. I was on that awful ride with no stop in sight.
The other day though I went to see my new nephew. He just turned 3 weeks. I walked into my sisters house to find her on her bed crying and holding the baby. I instantly grabbed him and sat to talk with her. Shes had two other kids with no issues and seems to be suffering from either baby blues or PP. I called her doctor and made her an appointment and we sat and talked. She asked why I never told her I had it (There were only a few people that knew).
My sister isn't exactly the supportive, loving type. She would've made me feel weak, she would have made me feel insane... That was not something I wanted or needed at that time. I accept my sister for who she is and I've learned what to tell her and what not to. Pretty much any emotion, keep to myself. On the other hand, I'm very supportive and try to be as non-judgmental as I can be with her. As I told her that it is something that effects a lot of woman she said no it wasn't. When I said I was on medication to try to help she said "Ugh, I WOULD NEVER take pills" with this disgust on her face and when I said she needed to realize that its okay to ask for help she rolled her eyes. As a mother of 4, one with a newborn that solely breastfed, one that has CP and two other that are in school and sports with a husband that works his bottom off I wasn't one to ask for help. I've always done it on my own but I found that you know what, so what if a friend brought me dinner, that didn't mean I was a bad mom. So what if laundry wasn't done or folded, my kids had clean clothes. So what if my house wasn't completely and 100% spotless, there was always tomorrow. I had to learn a new balance. I had to learn that not everything had to be perfect. I learned that and it made life better. In fact, those are lessons I still carry with me.
My sister though, I think it's still too early. I don't think she's to the point where she wants to listen. I don't know how to help her except to go over and keep my nephew while she sleeps. I can do her dishes and drop off dinner but really, I don't know what I can do. I tried talking to her (only to walk away thankful that I NEVER told her what I went through at the time).
It's hard to see someone go through something so hard. I've been there, I get it but if you aren't willing to help yourself, I cant help you, you know?