I remember thinking, the day I saw my little one with no heartbeat,
“This is the worst day of my life”.
Then, on the day I had to pass his little body, I remember thinking the
same thing, “This is the worst day of my life”.
I’ve tried to decide which of the two days was worse, now that time had
helped heal. Not one was worse than the
other. They were BOTH the worst day of
my life.
Did you know a woman can suffer from post partum depression
even when she loses her baby in the very earliest stages of pregnancy? Your body goes through so many hormonal
changes as it prepares to grow a little one.
When a pregnancy is ended abruptly, there is a swift change in those
surging hormones and it can wreak havoc on a woman emotionally.
I remember, several weeks after I had said good-bye to my
Angel Baby, the Husband and I were watching the movie “The Warrior”. At this point in time I felt like I had
mostly recovered (as far a feeling sad that I had lost my baby goes). Sure, I still got a
little weepy now and again, but only when I was watching or reading something
really romantic and sappy... which I considered “normal” for a woman anyway.
So, we’re watching the movie “The Warrior” (which I highly
recommend, by the way). A little
background: “The Warrior” is a movie about two brothers who have become very
distant over the years, partially due to their father’s alcoholism. Brother #1 is an AWOL ex-Marine who has
suffered a horrific experience whilst serving his country. Brother #2 is a former MMA fighter turned
schoolteacher who is now struggling to make ends meet financially while he
supports a family. Anyway, long story
short, these two brothers start training to fight for this big prize… in the
end they are the two final contenders and must fight each other. (Hope I didn’t spoil the movie for anyone,
still worth watching regardless.)
So… at first glance, this appears to be a “guy” movie,
right? Fighting, war stuff, blood, guts
and glory. Well, as luck would have it,
as the movie ends, I begin to cry…. no, SOB, uncontrollably. After the sobbing has not stopped for 15
minutes straight, The Husband is looking at me like I’m outside of my
mind. He started asking, “Are you
ok? What’s wrong? Are you ok?”.
I didn’t know what was wrong and I didn’t know if I was ok. All I could say was, “Brother’s shouldn’t
fight”. That was the only explanation I
could come up with.
It’s actually quite hilarious to think about it now. The Husband frequently teases me about it
too. The sobbing lasted for at least 40
minutes. I can just see myself, laying
prostrate on the couch, head shoved into a blanket, The Husband sitting on the
other end of the couch, looking utterly helpless, trying in vain to make the
crying stop. Honestly, I had no reason
for bursting into tears; I couldn’t explain why on earth I was crying. I can see now that my body was still trying
to get back to normal, still adjusting to those hormonal swings and changes.
I’m not saying that I suffered from post partum depression
(because I know that post partum depression can be much more serious that
having a good cry after a movie), but I am saying that the emotional
healing that had to take place after my miscarriage was rough.
A friend of mine suffered from severe post partum depression
after losing her baby in an ectopic pregnancy a few months after my
miscarriage. She had to take her husband
with her to the doctor to help him understand what was going on with her. Before going to the doctor, her husband
seriously thought she had lost her marbles…. Like, he thought she needed to be
institutionalized, THAT kind of crazy. Oh the joys of being a woman.
Throughout this whole process I have come to realize a few
things. 1. It’s amazing what our bodies
can recover from (physically and emotionally).
2. God knows each and everyone one of us personally. 3. Time truly does heal.
I wanted to end this post by sending a shout out to my PCOS
sisters out there. I love you, I am
praying for you, and I am sorry that you have to suffer from PCOS. Stay strong!
1 comment:
First of all, though this isn't at all the point of the post, I love that you used the word "whilst". I'm glad I'm not the only one. :)
Secondly, while I have never had a miscarriage (that I know of, so if I did it doesn't count), and didn't have post-partum depression per se, I DID experience something very similar when I stopped nursing. Because of the torture I was putting myself through over whether or not it was the right decision (I wanted to keep nursing so badly but after 5 months of pain and no one being able to figure out why it still hurt so bad, because the initial pain that everyone experiences is supposed to go away in the first week or two, I couldn't take it anymore), I had to stop cold turkey - emotionally, I couldn't handle dragging it out. As long as the option was still there, I would agonize over the decision. So I quit suddenly. Besides being in SEVERE pain while my breasts realized that they didn't need to make milk anymore, and dizzy and nauseous because my breasts hurt so badly (I felt like I had the flu), and feeling guilty for giving up nursing before I had wanted, the sudden drop in hormones in my body had me reeling like I'd never experienced. Which is what happens after giving birth sometimes, and what happened to you. I felt an overwhelming sense of DESPAIR - and couldn't pinpoint why. I was just SAD. For days, I sobbed at everything. And at nothing. And Scott still had to work those days (and I had to work those nights, which sucked!!!), so I stayed home with Jed and did the bare minimum of mothering. I could pick him up and put him in his crib, yelling out in pain the whole way, but I couldn't HOLD him. And when he cried for me, I couldn't comfort him and I sat nearby and cried along with him. It eventually got better, but I hope I never have to do that again. It was a really really really terrible week.
Anyway, that was a longer story than I intended it to be (but a very summarized one), but my point was that you can definitely experience something like post-partum depression without it actually being PPD. Hormones, while necessary for our bodies to do so many of the miraculous things that they do, can be really really evil to us sometimes. You're not the only one who has bawled without knowing why, while others look at you like you're psychotic.
Yay for being a girl.
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