I wasn’t prepared for it. I did my homework and researched deeply enough to prepare myself for the pregnancy and its after-effects. I knew about the intermittent bleeding, stretch marks, falling hair, baby weight, et al. But postpartum depression (PPD)? I overlooked it probably because I was too confident about my mental strength.
A few weeks after my baby was born, he no more remained my ‘bundle of joy’. My family and friends would tell me how cute the baby was, or how lucky I am to have such an easy baby who wouldn’t bother me much.
I could understand what they were saying, but could not see things the way they did. Strange, isn’t it? He was my baby, then why am I not able to love him the way I should? Why am I anxious in spite of having my loved ones around me? Why am I getting suffocated with the new responsibilities?
Some said I was having baby blues, which is quite common for new mothers, and I can come out of it very soon. I began waiting for that day to come when I could free myself from these negative emotions. Days turned weeks and weeks turned to two months, but the situation has only aggravated.
Sensing that there was something more dangerous than baby blues, I decided to see a doctor. Only after the consultation did I realize that my feelings are not as strange as I thought them to be.
PPD is a condition that occurs in up to one in seven women, and can affect any woman, irrespective of their health or family history. Its commonality has surprised me and made me share my experience.
So, if you are having any of these weird experiences, do not get annoyed as they could be PPD symptoms. See a doctor at the earliest!
- Cannot love my family:
I hated facing my mother or my husband. They were caring and loving, but I could not stand their sweetness. Some silly questions would pop up in my mind: Are they too sweet to be true? And why wouldn’t they, because it is ME who is going through the pain, not they. It is ME who has the burden of nursing the baby, not they!
- Not interested in my work:
I couldn’t cook like I did before. How could I ever make all those delicious dishes during the weekends for my family? I couldn’t believe that I took hobby classes in cooking! And the laundry and cleaning of utensils, no please, they were not for me.
- Hated his touch:
I would dread any intimate moments with him — the man of my life, the man I love so much. I would pray God to keep him so busy that he will not have time to come near me. I would sweat when I sensed his intentions.
- Ability to care for my baby:
I was under constant stress about my ability to care for my baby. Can I be a good mother? Can I take care of him without anybody’s help? I was even more worried about my ability to breastfeed him. I was paranoid that I might leave him empty-stomach.
- The pain was physical too:
The aches were there everywhere. My back, the muscles in my legs, the frequent headaches, all added up to my woes. And how can I forget that frequent urge to visit the toilet?
- Being an insomniac was not easy:
I never knew what lack of sleep was until I gave birth to my son. I would wait for him to sleep so that I can sleep. He would sleep, but where has my sleep gone? Can’t I steal forty winks (if not more) before he got up?
- Why was I crying?
I wouldn’t have an answer for that, or maybe there was no answer at all. Do I need a reason to cry? Can’t I cry simply because I feel like? I would cry for everything good or bad. I would cry if my baby had enough milk, and I would cry if he didn’t.
- Was I a glutton before?
I hated cooking, but not eating. I seemed to be eating the whole day, and my wishlist just went on and on. Those pregnancy cravings, are they still active even after the baby was out? And then I would end up drinking white tea – I needed to reduce my postpartum weight, right?
- Check the anxiety meter:
I badly needed an anxiety meter. Everything around me made me anxious. I was worried if my husband came late from work, I was anxious if my baby cried for milk, I didn’t know what to do if the power went off and I was alone at home with my child.
- Did I say that?
My memory was at the weakest during this time. I would say something and say the same again in another 10 minutes. I would write down the to-do list lest I forget them, and then would not remember where I placed that piece of paper.
- I loved him; I hated him:
The emotions were overwhelming. Most of the times I loved my baby, his pretty face, and incoherent smile meant the world to me. Yet, there were times when I hated to look at him. I was frustrated to clean his poops, or answer his hunger cries.
Thanks to timely medical intervention, I could come out of my depression.
My son is one year old now. Looking back, I cannot believe that I was apathetic to my little boy. PPD was the culprit but, still, how could I have anything but love for the star of my life!
Author Bio:
Aradhana is a writer from India. Her areas of knowledge include parenting, children with special needs, health and lifestyle. She loves being outdoors and her hobbies include cycling and hiking. She has a special interest in children with special needs and parenting and shares her experiences through her other passion, writing. She writes to share her knowledge so that it may help others. Her posts on these subjects have been published on more than 250+ various reputed sites like the Huffington post, SheKnows, http://www.momjunction.com/ and many more. Aradhana writes to inspire and motivate people to adopt healthy habits and live a stress-free lifestyle.