When I gave birth to Patrick, I felt empowered and strong. I did a natural birth without any pain medications. The labor was fast and I proved to myself and to everyone that natural birth can be done. So when the due date of Ian was fast approaching, I figured it would be about the same. Many people assured me that since my first labor and delivery was so quick, then my next one would be even quicker.
Well, it wasn't. My water broke around 2:20 am on July 15th and Ian didn't arrive until 5:02 pm. I was expecting a really quick labor and I slowly dilated. Thankfully, I don't feel labor pains until I hit a 6/6.5 so I mostly just waited around in the hospital (not fun at all). And, then for 3 hours I worked. I get back labor pains that run down the sides of my legs along with contractions in the uterus. It is like having your lower back and legs spasm and tighten at the same.
During the labor process, I was so disappointed that my body was not going through labor fast. My nurse told me that since I was completely induced with Patrick, I was most likely experiencing my "first" labor and delivery. Not a very happy thought for me. I was able to deliver Ian without any pain medication, but I didn't feel empowered. I felt so ashamed of my efforts. I was ashamed that I moaned. I was ashamed that I whimpered "It burns" while I pushed Ian out. I was ashamed that I wasn't in control of my emotions like I was when Patrick was born.
I was happy Ian was here; I just wasn't happy on the way I got him here. Broden and my nurse assured me that I was amazing and did a fantastic job, but I wasn't convinced. Because things didn't go as planned, I was upset. I felt like I failed myself. And, then I experienced something I never did with Patrick. I got postpartum depression. It was exacerbated by the following: me feeling like a failure (when I recorded my experience in having Ian, I cried most of the time because I felt like I failed), not getting a lot of sleep, not having Broden around because his job was making him do mandatory overtime so he was working around 70 hours every week (which left me up with Ian all night and me taking care of the yard work), trying to take care of Patrick and Ian at the same time, having my health problems worsen, being stuck inside, and not being able to run or do any form of exercised.
I wanted to lay in bed and cry all day, but I had to get up to take care of my kids and help out my husband. I tried to look composed on the outside, but on the inside I was a complete wreck. I would burst out crying at the smallest mistakes I did. I truly felt that I was worthless. I felt that my kids would be better without me because who would want me as a mom. I felt ugly, fat, pathetic, stupid, and I felt that the world would be a better place without me. And, my depression tapped into my past feelings of inadequacy during my childhood/teenager years where I was a victim of verbal abuse from my father. I grew to hate myself more and more everyday. And, I got more depressed because I was sad about being depressed.
It was an extremely hard period for me and for my family. Broden did everything he could to help me and I am so thankful I have a husband who didn't give up on me. After looking at a postpartum depression survey, the light bulb went off in my head. I recognized that I was depressed. I didn't want to talk about it to anyone because I didn't want to be judged. I didn't want people to assume things about me. However, I was so wrong. I wasn't judged and the people that found out were so supportive. I was shown so much love. I am so grateful for all the love and kind acts that were shown to me during this trial.
After having a long discussion with Broden about my options, we decided on a path that would be best for me. I would make it a priority to exercise, more specifically to go running (for years, running has been my way to unwind and feel good about myself), I would avoid chocolate and as much sugar in my diet since it can mess with your moods, be grateful, and see the good in myself. And, if that didn't work, then I would take medication. I didn't want to take medication because I love breastfeeding. Please understand that I don't think that taking medications is wrong; I was afraid I would get depressed if I had to give up breastfeeding. But I knew that if my other methods didn't work, then I would need medication to help me because I couldn't keep living in my present state.
Thankfully, the sun has broken through the gray and dismal clouds and the last two months have been a welcome retreat. I was able to heal because I had help from my family, my friends, and from my Savior, Jesus Christ. I'm so grateful to have my son, Ian, and he is priceless jewel to me. I have learned so much from him and he is only 4 months old. I'm so grateful that I am a mom!
Note: I wanted to write this post so I would get over my fear of saying that I was depressed and my fear of making mistakes. I am working on teaching myself that what matters most is that I don't give up and that I pick myself up every time I stumble and fall.
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