My Story: Long story here, but I need to get this all out and thank anyone who may read this and relate to any of it.
I thought my husband and I were ready but we were young and had no idea what we were doing. At six months pregnant we both lost our (very well paying) jobs within a month and my husband had to settle for whatever he could find. He didn't understand pregnancy and did not support me whatsoever (he has huge regrets now, but to say we have grown since then is an understatement).
We fought the morning I went in to be induced but once we got to the hospital and I saw it snowing I mentally chilled out. The snow was so beautiful and I feel so grateful now that I am able to remember that part. It was very early morning, so peaceful and lightly snowing. Amazing. Anyway.
The birth itself was... Not horrible but they gave me something in my IV for pain and it made me feel higher than a kite. I had horrendous back labor pain and opted for the epidural at the last minute because I couldn't handle that type of pain while high. Very close to delivery I started feeling some horrendous back labor pain again and no one believed me because of the epidural. They called my doctor in and he was ticked off that they weren't treating me well, had the epidural checked and it had slipped out. Last minute redoing of the epidural and not long after I delivered my baby girl. Perfect baby, but I felt nothing. No love. No excitement or awe or anything. I don't know if it was because of the pain meds they gave me or just the nature of it but regardless the guilt set in.
I didn't want to hold her or look at her. Once I got home I was so lost. My husband had to go back to work and I had no support system at all. I was alone. So alone.
The lactation nurse at the hospital was a beast and I was not about to let her be right about not being able to breastfeed. My daughter would not latch but I would pump for exactly 45mins per breast, feed her, and start all over again with pumping. Every two hours I was hooked up to that pump for an hour and a half. I basically never slept. And I still had to supplement with formula.
I was so exhausted. I was so depressed. I had no one to ask for help, ask if I was doing this right or what to do about that. I was alone. My husband worked constantly and we were still broke. I slowly went crazy. I questioned having her and debated leaving her with my husband because I felt they both deserved so much better.
She was colicy for a month during the beginning and I vividly remember begging her to just stop crying. Please God, stop crying. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help you. Thankfully it ended but I was still so depressed.
When she turned nine months old I learned I was pregnant again. I stopped producing milk altogether and felt like garbage about that but I see now it is ok. The depression continued on until literally after giving birth to my second little girl. I don't know what happened but it felt like a light switch.
My daughters are 4 and 5 now and I am in a much better place in life. I will say though, fear of going through PPD again has changed my mind about having anymore children. I never want to do that again.
If you feel depressed, please seek help. I wish I had. I was in such a dark place and didn't have to be. I didn't understand and felt like I had no choice, just suck it up and do it because every other mother has had to do this. But you don't have to be sad and alone.
Kimberly | USA | mama to two daughters, ages 4 and 5