When I first met the doctor who would deliver my baby and walk me through some of the worst moments of my life I thought she was unapproachable, lacking in bedside manners, abrupt and superior. My prenatal care was done through a practice rather than by just one doctor or midwife. It meant that I saw all of the doctors only once or twice, and of all the doctors I had met, I absolutely did not want her in the delivery room. I found her to be rude, I felt like she ignored A., and talked down to me. When I found out she was the doctor on call when I went into labor I took a deep breath and said to myself "It doesn't matter, she's only here to catch the baby, just focus on the nurses." And in spite of my first impressions, I quickly realized that she was probably the best person to have walked into the delivery room early that morning.
She was encouraging right from the start and no matter what issue I have going into her office - whether it's a silly first-time-mom concern about the color of my baby's poop (yes, while there is more to that story, I'm ashamed to say I am that mom) or a much more real concern about my baby's lips turning blue, or about my depression - she always listens and takes everything seriously and checks everything thoroughly and never makes me feel stupid. She even called me two days after N. was born to see how I was doing. I'm guessing that's not typical.
She's also the one that made me realize just how serious my depression was. I remember worrying for days leading up to my appointment that she wouldn't take me seriously. That was always a huge worry for me: I felt that I might be blowing things out of proportion and someone was going to tell me that every mom feels this way, I would just have to deal with it. Turns out I was very much under-blowing. I explained that I was tired all the time, that I couldn't focus, that I would get frustrated, angry even, and be totally unable to cope. I told her that I'd been very close to hurting my daughter, and that I thought about suicide. After she consulted with the psychiatrist on call and pulled some strings to get me an appointment (I was later informed by the psychiatrist that I was "one of the lucky ones who gets to see a psychiatrist in three days"... somehow I didn't really feel lucky) she sat down with A. and I to discuss how to keep me and Baby safe. And suddenly I was exposed to the gravity of the situation. She told us I was not to be alone, ever, and certainly not alone with Little Nae. In fact, she even suggested that I was not to be up wandering the house while A. was sleeping. It was like being hit over the head with a baseball bat and sucker-punched in the stomach all at the same time.
I am a danger to my daughter.
It hit me hard and fast.
And it hurt.
But she didn't leave it at that. The three of us worked out a solution for the following week, and she wrote Adam a note so that he could take some time off. And as I cried in her office she told me "It's not your fault, we'll get you through this. You aren't a bad mother, I've never seen anything to make me think that you wouldn't do everything you could for your daughter. We just need to get this sorted out so that you can enjoy being a mom."
Today we talked about the medications and how they were working, I told her I wasn't interested in going off of them any time soon. The depression has been awful for me, and I don't want to go back to that all-consuming darkness ever again. She agreed and told me that people with just a "little depression" (implying that mine was definitely not "little") should typically stay on the medication for six to nine months. She told me that I might want to consider staying on the Cipralex through my next pregnancy and postpartum period. I hadn't expected that, so we'll have to see how things go. While we were talking about the severity of my PPD here's what she said about depression, and I think it was very well put: "People think depression is just all in a person's head, but it's not. It's a chemical and hormonal thing. It takes over your life, it's all-consuming. There's nothing you can do, it just pulls you deeper and deeper."
So to anyone who might be going through PPD or other forms of depression, find a doctor who will listen to you, advocate for you, and truly care about your healing. It makes such a big difference.
One last thing... my doctor has a funny little quirk: She loves shoes... today she was wearing cute shimmery red heels with ribbon laced through them. I love it!
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