How many therapists does it take to change a lightbulb? ... Or me?

Today I saw two therapists. It was a little exhausting, but I'm feeling more hopeful. I have already mentioned that I have been seeing a Registered Psychiatric Nurse (J.N.). I actually saw her early on, at about 3 weeks postpartum. I really didn't feel comfortable with her. I remember feeling worse after my appointments than I did before. I also remember not really understanding some of the questions she asked. And she would ask them over and over. I guess we just didn't hit it off. When I went to my doctor just a few weeks ago, she suggested I go back to J.N. I explained my experience with her and she said she would refer me to someone else. So today, I saw both J.N. and this other counselor. What a difference!

Let me explain: J.N.'s approach has a tendency to leave me feeling a bit out of control. She talks a lot about the postpartum hormonal imbalance and neurochemical imbalances that can trigger postpartum depression. While I know that those are huge components to PPD, they aren't things I can do much about. Consequently I've been feeling like I'll just have to ride this out.  I know that the medication will help level me out, but I'm just not going to feel like "myself" until my body decides to re-regulate itself. The problem is that I know that there are background issues that have made my PPD worse and that I should be able to work on these things so that I don't slip back into depression.

Today I also saw the psychologist to whom I was referred. Her approach is worlds away from J.N.'s (or it seems that way to me). We talked about how I have been feeling lonely and isolated where we live now. I mentioned that, having been a student for so long, I now find myself missing being intellectually and socially stimulated through school. Being a mother can be pretty tedious, even mundane, a lot of the time and I find that I am perfectly able to keep myself busy, but get to the end of the day and don't feel like I've done anything terribly worthwhile.

Yes, I know being a mother is very worthwhile.  But it's hard to see it when I've gone through the exact same routine - nurse, play, breakfast, play, nap, lunch, walk, nap, nurse, play, make supper, feed N. supper, play, bath, nurse, bed - everyday.

But this psychologist was able to give me a list of options in Red Deer for getting involved and meeting people. She wasn't pushy about it, but helped me set goals for things that I would really want to do. Over the next couple weeks I really want to look into the Collicutt Center: I guess for about $5/hr. A. and I can leave N. with childcare workers and go swim, play tennis, climb their climbing wall, etc. We used to love doing that sort of thing for dates. I also want to go to some of the Parent Link drop-in activities at Parkland mall. So I hope to do some of those in the next week.

This psychologist told me today "A lot of people get stuck with postpartum depression; thinking that it's just an imbalance. Treat the imbalance with meds, and the depression will just go away. But I think there's so much more to it than that." I think that's the major difference between the two therapists. For the time being I do need the meds, that pretty clear to me now. I was in an acute depressive crisis and my daughter and I were both at risk. But now I'm ready (because the meds have started to level me out) to work on some of the factors that initially put me at risk for PPD. Hopefully, this will be another good turning point.

J.N. has helped me some and we did have a good session today, but overall, I think this new psychologist will be a better fit. Now, I just need a good way to tell J.N. I'm seeing someone else!

Here are some helpful things from today:

- Make a list of priorities and write down what I have accomplished in a day
- Get involved in a course (maybe photography?). I would love to do this, but it might be difficult logistically right now. Good to keep in mind though for down the road or when I'm feeling better.
- Look into some mom and baby activities in Red Deer and get involved
- Pray about the things that are bothering me, do what I can, and leave the rest in God's hands. For some reason, I've been forgetting to do this as much as I should.

To find your likeness in an animal

My husband was reading the news and came upon this story of a baby elephant being trampled on by his mother shortly after having been born. He showed me the article and I thought "That mama must have had postpartum depression."

 http://ca.news.yahoo.com/blogs/daily-buzz/baby-elephant-cries-hours-mother-rejects-him-194824961.html

I find my heart is broken for this baby elephant, that his mother would reject him, refuse to feed him and trample on him. I find my heart is broken for his mama, who must be going through somewhat similar emotions to mine. And, I find I am grateful I have never hurt my baby this much. I don't know that I've thought a lot about animals' emotions, but it is somehow comforting that they struggle the same  way we do. To me, it speaks to the fact that this is an imbalance in brain chemistry, not a choice, not an inherent weakness. If animals are tied more strongly to their instincts than humans, it would seem that this type of incident should not occur in the animal kingdom. And yet it does, more frequently than we might think. It gives me hope that I will recover. I do also hope this elephant mama recovers and maybe might be reunited with her babe. Another interesting note: Apparently elephants in the wild commit infanticide far less frequently than elephants in captivity. Clearly, there is some kind of stressor that increases the likelihood of these events. Lack of community, I wonder? I did a little research, or my own curiosity, on the National Geographics website and found that female elephants and their young travel in herds led by a matriarchal elephant leader. What if we were to do the same: raise our children in the presence of friends and sisters, with older women to teach, nurture, train and support young moms. This sounds like a wonderful idea to me!

Baby's First... Support Group.

Okay, in reality baby stayed home. She had a cold, and I didn't want to give the other babies and their moms the same cold. Grandma and dad were happy enough to keep her at home.

I have to admit, I was very nervous about going. I'm still nervous about going. Particularly because I'm afraid I won't fit in and that I won't have anything in common with the other moms. Now, it's tricky to share much about a support group because everything should remain pretty confidential. What I can say is that I'm glad I'm not alone, but I still feel very much alone. The other (2) moms seem to be more in the recovery stage than I am and I'm not sure either have ever come as close as I have to hurting their baby. Guilt. Someone told me recently (not at the support group) that it's normal to sometimes want to throw a pillow over your child's face - not that you ever would. More Guilt. I don't know how to bring it up. I feel like a support group should be a place where I can get support for even the worst of my illness, but I still feel like I might be judged by them. Fear. Those are the two emotions I feel most often. Even on my good days. Guilt for what I've done, how I feel, and what I want or don't want. Fear of what I might do when I sink to a low, or what people might think of me if they only knew how terrible a mother I am.

I will keep going to the support group and test the waters slowly. I know that I won't feel comfortable right away. The one issue I feel might make things more difficult is that I'm not sure I will find someone of the same faith as me. What a world of difference that would make! To be able to share my struggles with someone who believes in the grace, peace and strength that comes from God.

On another note: I've felt so much better the last couple days. Maybe the medications are starting to work. Today I was out for a little while and as I was driving home I thought to myself "I'm looking forward to seeing my baby girl!" What a feeling!

The Why:

I've been thinking today about why I am writing a blog. And more specifically, why, if I've chosen a blog as a medium for my wonderings, am I not telling anyone about it? Why, if I am being secretive, not just write in a journal? Why write at all? The latter question has a simpler answer: I think I need to. I've never been much of a writer. I've tried keeping a journal, always to no avail. A few pages in and my interest wanes or I feel my subject matter dry up. But for this period in my life, I need to write. I was having terrible anxiety a few nights ago and I grabbed a notebook and pen and started writing this:

   The RPN I am seeing says anger is a branch of anxiety (other potential branches being obsession, panic, etc.) and I am really beginning to see the truth of it. I haven't figured out the root of the anxiety itself, but maybe that will come with time. Before I get angry my mind fills with racing thought about whatever is happening at that moment (N. is fussing, not feeding, my house is a mess, I don't have any energy, supper isn't cooked...) and then suddenly they turn into thoughts about how "I don't want this"; "I don't want to be a mom"; "I want this all to end"; "I just want to disappear, God just let me disappear."
   Tonight I thought about how easy it would be for me to suffocate my baby - there was a pillow right there. It was bedtime, she wasn't nursing and I just thought "I could end it now, so easily." The anger was so great and the urge so strong... I did take that pillow and placed it over her face, she fussed and struggled, but I seemed oddly calm. Then, and I'm not sure what happened, I removed the pillow and snapped back, took her out to A. I was shaking and crying.
   I've had a few good days in a row now and I thought maybe at least the anger was gone. But even now, I can hear her crying in the living room with her Grandma D. and I want to go and hurt her... grab her... shake her. And I feel so guilty... so dreadfully guilty, I shouldn't be her mom.
   Another part of my anxiety is that I get some stupid song stuck in my head on repeat. Her Grandma D. says that repetitive thoughts are common with anxiety. But today, blessedly, the song in my head is a praise song - Thank you, Lord!

Standing on this Mountaintop
Looking just how far we've come
Knowing that for every step you were with us

Kneeling on this battleground
Seeing just how much you've done
Knowing every victory was your power in us

Scars and struggles on our way
But with joy our hearts can say
(Yes our hearts can say)

Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did you leave us on our own
You are faithful, God you are faithful.

Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone

Every step we are breathing in Your grace
Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise
You are faithful, God, You are faithful *

 I think I'll keep that one in the back of my mind. :)

After finishing that entry I felt more calm, and like I had won a victory, even if it was a small one. I had been able to replace "O Suzanna" and "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" with a praise song. And not just any praise song but one about scars and struggles, battles and mountains, and joy and grace and peace. In the margins of the lyrics of the song I wrote:

  I have faith that someday I will be able to say "I've reached the top of my mountain. I've gained a victory on this battleground because of God's grace"

Please, God, don't leave N alone. Be faithful to protect her like you did today.
 
 And I think that is why I chose to start writing a blog: Because someday (or so I've been told) I'll have reached the top or my mountain and won the victory over my PPMD. Maybe then, or maybe sooner, I'll have the courage to share my journey with others, and help to break the silence and stigma of postpartum depression. If and when that day comes I beg you, the reader, to have grace... what I have just shared is dark and I constantly feel guilty about those moments. Today I said to my husband A. "Why can't we just give her to someone who would be a better mom than me." I pray you will have grace like my husband who, at the time said nothing, then later when I retracted, through shaking sobs saying "I don't think I really meant that" said "I know you didn't - we'll get through this."

* "Never Once" recorded by Matt Redman. I just took some of the verses, the ones that were particularly important to me. 

Postpartum Depression

It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words. What are the words this picture paints? Happiness? Attachment? Pride? Joy? Blessedness? Yes, a thousand times, yes. But the story is deeper than this picture has the ability to tell. This picture cannot tell the viewer of the pain this young mom feels on a daily basis. There is no mention of the guilt, the fear, the helplessness and hopelessness that comes along with a daily struggle with postpartum depression. I am not making this blog very public, yet... perhaps one day I will have the strength and courage to share these thoughts with others. For now, though, it will be a place for me to write my thoughts, to have a place to scratch my way through the hard times, and the beautiful ones.