Post Partum Depression and Panic Attacks

The following post is for informational purpose only- not to get any form of sympathy or apologies. I have been debating for awhile about posting my experience, and as it is such a real condition, I felt it could help others. I would never wish anyone, even my worst enemy (if I had one), to go through the ordeal I did. I warn you though, the following is pretty depressing:

Before Daniel came into this world, all I wanted to do was disappear. I thought it would be nice to take a bath, sink under the water and never come up. I just assumed I was overly tired. I was working full time plus some extra hours and as happens with most women, my feet and ankles were beyond swelling capacity.

Daniel was born and I had quite a few emotional break downs in the hospital. I didn't really care to hold him, but knew this was something most mothers did. As a matter of fact, most of the things I did with Daniel those first few months were purely out of knowing it was what was expected of a new mother.

About three weeks went by and I think I probably called my mother crying each of those days. Finally, one night, I went into my bedroom, curled up in the fetal position and went to the darkest place I have ever gone. I wanted to commit suicide. I didn't care how, I just wanted to end it all. I lay on the floor trying to think of a way I could end my life with something in my bedroom. Nothing came to mind. I know Heavenly Father was keeping my mind suppressed because just a few feet away was my razor. If I would have realized it was there, I wouldn't be here today.

I finally gained some realization of what was going on and went out to speak with Carlo. He listened, but was unsure of what to do. He had been taking care of Daniel for three weeks during the night, working, going to school and dealing with a wife who was not handling things. So, I went and called my parents and told them what had happened. They were very calm about the whole thing, came and picked up Daniel for the night and told me to come over in the morning.

It was the worst feeling in the world watching them drive away, knowing I wasn't mentally able to care for my new baby. At the same time, I was more relieved than I had been in a long time.

I went to the doctors within the next few days and sat in his office while telling him what I had been going through. He hugged me and told me it would be okay. Then he prescribed anti-depressants for me. This is why I do not ever want to go to another OBGYN. He was there for me, he was understanding and he let me know I wasn't a bad mother and it would be okay. He put me on suicide watch and told my mother I needed to be watched 24-7 until the medication kicked in within the next few weeks.

Our little family moved into my parent's home for the next month and a half. My mother took care of Daniel exclusively for two weeks and only brought him to me to be nursed. After six weeks, I quit nursing. I couldn't handle the time commitment, the stress and frankly didn't have enough milk. It too was a bitter sweet relief the day I quit nursing.

I also had other family members take shifts to give my mom a break while she took care of some things of work. I am so grateful to all that helped and also to my mother's work for letting her take so much time off of work to take care of me and my baby. We were blessed.

I was on medication and was sure the road was going to get easier, but then I woke up one night with my chest caving in. I ran to the bathroom, put my head on the floor and began vomiting. I couldn't even lift my head to the toilet. I was sure I was having a heart attack and plead with my parents to call an ambulance. A few moments later I was feeling a little better and they explained to me that I had had a panic attack. This was the first of many.

I began going to counseling for my panic attacks and was blessed to learn how to deal with them in just a few sessions. It was either that or take Valium when I felt one coming on. I didn't want to function that way. I had panic attacks for over a year from that point on, but was able to feel when one was coming and keep it under control.

It was over a year before I went off of my medication and by that time my body was dependant. I went through withdrawals for two weeks. I never wanted to deal with that again. So, when I found out I was pregnant with Coral, I vowed I wouldn't take anti depressants again, even though the doctor advised me to do so with each pregnancy. After alot of prayers, blessings and pondering, I decided to go on the meds before I went into labor. This was a very hard decision for me, but I didn't want to go through post partum depression again, let alone put my family through that one more time. I think they all breathed a sigh of relief when I popped that first pill in my mouth.

So, after Coral was born, we were all anxious to see if it would be a repeat even with the medication. I asked my mom to hold Coral when I first saw her and my mom began to panic thinking it was starting all over again. I had done the same thing with Daniel. This time, I was just shaking so bad that I didn't want to give her baby shaking syndrome! I probably wouldn't have, but it was hard to hold still after the surgery (c-section).

It's a year later, I went off medication when Coral was five months and life is well. I already want another baby and look forward to the next experience- even with having to go on anti-depressants again. Babies really are a blessing and I know that now! I have had the worst and best experience and I pray no one else ever has to suffer what I did. Thankfully I am not one of those mommies who hurt her baby or even was able to go through with suicide- as I know of someone who did commit suicide due to post partum depression. It is very real and very scary.

I share this to let others know that I have struggled in my life and it is okay. I have made it through this trial. I can talk about it. I want people to know about it. I want to help others. Don't be afraid to ask me any questions- I'm very open about my experience. I only hope Daniel will understand when he is older and does not blame himself. I love him no less.

I'll never forget the day my dad softly commented, "You are laughing again. I know it's going to be okay now." Since then, I try to make laughter a part of my every day.