I Had Postpartum Depression and Nobody Realized It

I would never wish a PPD on anyone. But I want the reader to know that today I see my depression as a chance I had. A chance to go and figure out what the causes (the real ones) of my malaise were. They were never becoming a mom. It's that becoming a mom brought them out. Forcing me, in a sense, if I wanted to regain my sanity, to work on them. Motherhood is already one of the best things about my existence just because it immediately put me on the road to recovery. Healing parts of me that were not as healthy as I thought they were. Fortunately, this concept, that there was no blame on the part of my little newborn family, much less my innocent baby, was always clear to me. I thank higher forces for always giving me this clarity. I feel lucky for that.

Ok, to my story.

The Taboo

We think 'new mom' and the image we visualize is that of someone completely satisfied, high on oxytocin, and in love with her baby. And I think that moments of pure bliss like that do exist in the lives of most new moms. And when they manifest, they are the most precious ones. There is nothing better in the world. Nothing compares. Not the tastiest, most sinful burger you’ve ever had, not the most incredible trip of your life, not the biggest achievement along your career path, not the most magical moment of connection with your partner. I, too, have been gifted with many magical mamatoto moments. I love that word. It is a Swahili word that translates 'motherbaby,' giving the idea that mom and baby are not separate people, but rather one single connected entity. That's truly how it feels like.

But there is another image that might also pop into our minds when we think about fresh parents. Only, it is a far less pleasant one. So much so that we try to avoid it. In fact, it is taboo. It is the image of an exhausted sobbing mother in a fight, flight, or freeze mode because she cannot cope with the profound changes in her body, mind, and soul she is facing. The image is so unwelcome, no one talks about it. This, in my opinion, is the reason why most of the people who are about to be parents, don't even think it could become their reality. And might feel unprepared when the less pleasant parts of having a baby (and it does not have to go as far as developing a mental condition) show themselves.

In my case, very difficult moments started being my daily reality two months after I became a mom for the first time. And don’t get me wrong, the first two months hadn’t been easy either after an induced delivery three weeks before the due date because I had preeclampsia and an inflammation in my uterus that was diagnosed a little late since the doctors could not figure out what I had. Then, at home, we had of course the first moments of general panic with a newborn, the sleepless nights, not knowing if it was day or night anymore. Tough. Yes. But not as tough as the phase that followed.

The Symptoms

This is a list of what I was experiencing, in no particular order. It was a big blur of all these symptoms. Many of them were there simultaneously, but not everyone. Some were there from the beginning. Some appeared even a year later.

•NO APPETITE

•INSOMNIA (DESPITE EXHAUSTION)

•ANXIETY

•SADNESS AND SENSE OF LOSS/ FEELING BROKEN INSIDE/ WAKING UP CRYING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

•IRRITABILTY AND RAGE

•FIGHT OR FLIGHT MODE 24/7

•GUILT AND THOUGHTS LIKE I AM JUST RUINING IT ALL'; 'SHE DESERVES A BETTER MOM'; 'IF I DISAPPEARED, IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR EVERYONE'; 'I AM NOT GOOD AT THIS AND I AM JUST A BURDEN'

•OBSESSIVE RUMINATING OF NEGATIVE THOUGHTS

•OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE DISORDER (OCD)

Also, did you know that a new mother's brain changes? In the sense that it really transforms? Yes, that's what happens. And do you know what it does? It becomes sensitive. It turns into a central receiving station for every emotion the baby is experiencing. Whether pleasant or unpleasant. And do you know what also happens then? Mommy becomes sensitive not just towards the baby, but towards the whole external environment. If she is surrounded by people who are intrusive or needy, she picks up on their vibes like never before. This natural trick that serves the good survival of human cubs puts their moms' mental health to the test. This I learned when it was already late for me to save myself from a total plunge into my mental underworld.

When things started getting really out of control, I did not wait long before asking for help. About two months after birth, I contacted my gynecologist, who, by the last visit (six weeks after birth), told me to contact her in case things were just too tough to bear. I told her that something was off with me and that I was worried about my mental health. She wrote back a couple of days later and we had a phone call.

The Identity Shift

At this point, though, one of my major issues and obsessions was the fact that at the end of my sixteen weeks of maternity leave, I would have had to go back to work. It was too soon, I was not ready (neither emotionally, nor mentally, nor physically), and the thought was making me very very anxious. My gynecologist told me that maybe I was experiencing what most mothers who have to go to work so early are experiencing. She also said that in her practice there were therapists who specialized in postpartum mental problems and that if I wanted to I could make an appointment. Only, in the rush to solve my problem, I had already contacted a psychologist who spoke my language. Since I am a native Italian speaker leaving in a German-speaking area, I thought I would have been more comfortable if I could explain myself in my own language. So I declined my gynecologist's invitation and went to the Italian-speaking psychologist, who told me she had enough knowledge and experience in the field to talk about new moms' worries.

With the psychologist, I talked about my fears of going back to work. My priority was to understand what consequences my absence would have had on my child. Whether I would have hurt my daughter by going to work my usual 9-9.5 hours a day, three days a week, coming back late in the evening, and working on weekends. All things that were required by my job. She gave me a super interesting and very useful lesson on some changes in many new moms' feelings and identities. Things nobody had told me before and that if I am honest, I had not wanted to listen to before. I was sure I would have been happy to go to work again. That I would have been happy to hire a babysitter any time. Me needing my child or needing to be there for her?! That was not an option I was ready for. I had a career that I loved and I had always been someone who needed time and space for herself. Only, to my surprise, the new me was having the opposite desires.

I was shedding skin, and in the process, I did not know who I was anymore.

I was facing a major identity shift. Becoming a mother led me to a whole new set of priorities, needs, attitudes, and tendencies. I was missing the young, ambitious woman I used to be. A person who knew what she wanted and lived more carefree than the worried and tired mother I realized I now was. I was shedding skin, and in the process, I did not know who I was anymore.

'Do you think I could be depressive?', I finally asked. Her answer: 'No, you are experiencing very normal thoughts and feelings, and I don't like to pathologize normal difficult processes'. 'Listen... - I added - I took the Edinburgh Scale Test. I scored 21 points'.

The Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale test is a questionnaire that was developed to identify women who may have postpartum depression. The maximum score is 30. If you have more than 9 points, the suggestion is that you go see someone. The psychologist's answer? 'I don't know the scale you're talking about'.

I now know that anyone who knows anything about postpartum mental health also knows what the Edinburg Postnatal Depression Scale is. But back then, I was just a confused new mom who had just seen an expert. So I believed said expert and went home.

The Inner Child Work Since whatever I had was apparently 'normal' and nobody told I needed psychotherapy, but I was not feeling better, I decided I had to find another solution. I hired a life coach. At least I could maybe learn to cope with my anger and anxiety. We worked on my inner child and on my past. Much of my current problems did not have anything to do with motherhood. It was mostly unprocessed elements of my life that had resurfaced in my new situation. He gave me some tools to put healthy boundaries between me and certain people and/or situations. It all helped. The effort was huge. On the one hand, I was putting into practice things that I had never even tried to do before. And on the other one (something I did not know, back then), my new mom's brain was more empathic and emotional than usual. Good to get in touch with your inner child. Not the best tool when you must learn to say no to said people and/or situations.

Family constellation therapy helped me make peace with some of my family's ghosts.

The coach and I worked well together. And after six months with him (about 10 months into motherhood), I felt like I was feeling OK, and stopped having sessions. From then on, I followed another path: a spiritual journey that led me to work (amongst other things such as shamanic rituals and ceremonies) with family constellation therapy. I had a feeling that there were stories of abandonment that perhaps had been passed to me from previous generations. A theory that, as Science states, 'would have been laughed at 20 years ago. But today the hypothesis that an individual's experience might alter the cells and behavior of their children and grandchildren has become widely accepted'. A theory that could also explain my extreme fear of leaving my daughter. Family constellation therapy helped me make peace with some of my family's ghosts.

The Peer Support Group In the meantime, I decided to create a peer support group for new parents. Mainly because I needed one myself. I advertised it online, and before I knew it, the first meetings were taking place. Within a couple of months, the group counted 90 subscribers (even though the really active participants were 5-10 people). Then COVID hit, and the group’s main platform became a chat, which worked almost better. Texting about one's feelings and emotions appeared to be easier than talking about them in front of a bunch of strangers.

Because I was afraid of having someone suffering from severe depression coming to the meetings, I called a local association specializing in postpartum mental health and asked them to send me material in case one of the participants needed it.

That's when I started truly researching postpartum depression. As I was going through the list of the most common symptoms I found on the association's page, I realized I’ve had them or I was still experiencing many of them. It was pretty clear to me: I've had or was having PPD, and nobody realized it. But the work with the life coach was now done, the single sessions of alternative therapy too. And I was truly feeling much better.

Unfortunately, a bit more than a year after the last coaching session, life started hurting again. Once again, sadness, anger, and anxiety were knocking on my door. 'That's it', I said to myself. The ordeal had to stop once and for all.

I called the association again. And this time, it was for me. After a first video call, a therapist from their center strongly suggested I got further help. She then put me in contact with another therapist. Someone truly specialized in the field and a good match for my case. She is now my psychotherapist, and we are doing EMDR therapy. Life is now much better again.

As she confirms, I had postpartum depression.

What I had, she explains, does not necessarily be exactly what another depressive new mom experiences. That’s depression: every case is different.

The Other Moms

Through the self-help group and just talking to those parents who were not afraid of digging deep and uncovering their experiences, I realized how hard moments are in fact part of every new parent’s life. Still, some had it more difficult than others, with anxiety attacks, insomnia, contrasting feelings towards the baby, huge guilt feelings, and OCD.

Other big topics were problems with the partner, negative body image, time management difficulties, problems in their career, and general exhaustion. Some of the parents I met started seeking professional help. Most of them did not.

'Everyone takes birth preparation classes. No one even thinks of preparing for what comes after'

There were also moms who never said a thing during our meetings. I guess they just needed to listen to the others' stories. One of these silent mothers later told me she had postpartum depression. But she had big problems talking about it, as she came from an Asian country where mental health is a major taboo.

I recently talked to another mom, who told me, 'Everyone takes birth preparation classes. No one even thinks of preparing for what comes after. And no one from the medical field ever talks to you about that. And it would be so helpful'.

I don’t know if anyone ever called the local association that put me in contact with my therapist. That’s the first thing I now would do.

The Questions I Still Have

What strikes me is that someone like me, who contacted three professionals dealing with fresh moms or life crises in general only found the final diagnosis and remedy years later. Did I use the wrong keywords? Did they ask the wrong questions? Do they know enough about PPD? Am I the only one? How common is this?

The next question is, of course, why were I and my family so little ready for this and had such little at least theoretical knowledge?

Almost every woman who is about to become a parent knows that her body will take about six weeks to 'get back to (a new) normal'. Why doesn’t almost anybody know how long the brain needs to adapt to all the huge changes motherhood brings?

Another question that needs to be answered is: almost every woman who is about to become a parent knows that her body will take about six weeks to 'get back to (a new) normal'. 'Why - as my therapist puts it - doesn’t almost anybody know how long the brain needs to adapt to all the huge changes motherhood brings?' Every specialist will tell you that postpartum depression can arise many months after birth. And how comes (at least in my country) that every mom schedules a visit after 6 weeks to see how their body is doing, but no one gets a mental check at any time after birth as a standard procedure? And this even though the WHO states that 'almost 1 in 5 women will experience a mental health condition during pregnancy or in the year after the birth'.

And here is my final question: why on earth get moms in certain countries (such as Switzerland) zero weeks off before the due date and less than 6 months of what someone had the guts to call 'leave' or 'vacation'?!

The Pros and Cons of Getting a Diagnosis

A friend once told me that I had to consider myself lucky that no one had diagnosed me with depression. 'Sometimes, the diagnosis makes you fall even further into despondency. And it doesn't give you the right push to get out of it. You end up telling yourself that you are depressed and you get more depressed exactly because of that'. Maybe my friend has a point. Maybe for some patients not naming the disease is the right path to healing. But in my case, naming it was crucial to understanding, and then accepting my situation. And finally, find the proper final treatment.

With each step, I became a little less caterpillar, a little more chrysalis. Today I feel like a butterfly. It has been my metamorphosis. My metamomphosis.

The Metamomphosis

But I am also sure every bit helped. The first meeting with the Italian-speaking psychologist who did not know what the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale test was, the coaching, the two family constellation sessions I had,... and finally EMDR and giving one name to the messy mix of elements that I now call my PPD. My psychotherapist tells me I arrived 'very prepared' to therapy. I am sure every little progress was a success. And that every relapse was a sign. A signal that there was still more to dig, to understand, to accept, to let go, to forgive, to love. With each step, I became a little less caterpillar, a little more chrysalis. Today I feel like a butterfly. It has been my metamorphosis. My metamomphosis.