Postpartum depression was a term that I was very familiar with both before and following the birth of P&K. My doctors discussed the symptoms I should look for prior to my delivery, the nurses at the hospital discussed the same symptoms with me, and, honestly, I had read quite a bit about it online during my pregnancy.
As is routine and required for discharge from the hospital after P&K were born, I was given the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale screening tool. I carefully and honestly filled out all of the questions. The nurse reviewed my responses and announced that I passed, with flying colors even! No hint of PPD. Awesome! I mean, I had enough on my plate without having to battle that, right!
So off we went, discharged from the hospital, with 2 tiny babies tucked into their infant carriers. It was a surreal feeling, that they were allowing Thomas and I to take these two tiny little lives home with us, with no supervision… I mean, I had never done this before! I remember thinking, “What if I mess up? Do they just send babies home with any and every mother?”
Hind sight is 20/20 they say, and as I’m typing this, I’m realizing that this was probably the very first hint of anxiety that I experienced. But it was cloaked in normal, new mama fears and trepidation, so it went undetected.
The first 14 weeks postpartum
I was fortunate enough to be able to take 14 weeks maternity leave. I was so grateful for this time! And I kinda felt like I was slaying this whole “motherhood” thing! Every twin momma I had talked to before having P&K said that getting your babes on a schedule was one of the most important things with twins. So we worked really hard on this!
When one ate, the other ate. One got their diaper changed, the other got theirs changed too. It worked! Within just a couple nights, I was getting a solid hour of sleep between each feeding session, and by about 7 weeks or so they were sleeping through the night for the most part! Neither baby cried much… only when they needed something, really. We were really getting into a groove as a family of four! I mean, I had two happy, healthy babes! I couldn’t ask for more!
I absolutely adored these two tiny humans. My heart and mind couldn’t fathom how much love I had for P&K. I often wondered if every mama loves their children like this. Does Thomas love them this much too? I just couldn’t comprehend this depth of love that I was experiencing! This depth of love also brought on so many fears and worries, though.
What I thought was normal
Because I loved P&K more than I ever could have imagined, I was also scared to death that something was going to happen to them. Day after day, scenarios would run through my mind.
- What if I get into a car accident and they’re hurt? Or worse?
- What if we wreck into a body of water and my car starts sinking? How would I get them both out? (We didn’t live near a body of water where this was likely to happen.)
- What if we experience an active shooter situation when we go out?
- What if the house catches on fire? I researched ways to best survive a house fire, and learned that fire can’t spread as quickly if doors are closed, so their bedroom door was always closed if they were napping or sleeping!
- What if they get sick? What if a friend or family who stops to visit is unknowingly carrying some type of virus?
- What if they are exposed to Herpes Simplex 1 virus?
- What if they get cancer?
- What if they have a developmental abnormality?
- What if they are kidnapped? How would I protect two babies?
- What if I’m giving more attention to one baby over the other?
- What if I’m not a good mom?
- What if Thomas leaves me? Or what if he dies? I certainly can’t raise them alone!
- What if one of the babies stops breathing in their sleep?
Amidst all of these fears, the fear of having a car wreck with them in the car and the fear of someone kidnapping one of the babies were the two most prevalent fears that I had every single day. These fears engulfed my thoughts so much that I didn’t really want to go anywhere. This worked out because it’s so hard to venture out of the house when you’re trying to keep two newborns on a strict 3 hour feeding schedule anyway.
I vividly remember the first time I was away from Peyton and Kayden. When the babies were about a week old, we moved into a new house. We had hoped to be moved in before their arrival, but since they came about a month early, that hadn’t happened. So I went into town to grab pizzas for everyone who was helping us move. I left P&K at home with my mom and Thomas’s grandma. When I got to Pizza Hut, the pizzas weren’t quite done and I had to wait. I was tapping my feet, clenching my hands and starting to sweat the longer I waited. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but I just felt like I needed to get back home to them. This was one of the very first red flags that went undetected.
I thought all of these feelings and fears were normal. My heart was overflowing with joy and love, so I knew there was no way I could be experiencing postpartum depression.
I was also crying daily. But wasn’t this just a byproduct of my fluctuating hormones as my body tried to re-balance after creating and bringing two tiny humans into the world? They had told me that nearly everyone goes through the “baby blues,” a period after birth when new moms are likely to experience dips in mood due to all of the changes going on both internally and around them. I was sure this was what I was experiencing.
My 6 week postpartum check
At my 6 week postpartum check, as routine, I filled out another postpartum depression screening. I filled out each question carefully, but this time, not so honestly. As I read through the statements, my gut would feel a little funny, my breath would catch a little in my chest.
I have been anxious or worried for no good reason:
- No, not at all
- Hardly ever
- Yes, sometimes
- Yes, very often
I carefully read through the responses and I wanted to answer “Yes, sometimes!” But then I rationalized to myself that I was raising TWO tiny humans! Of course, I’m going to feel a little anxious and worried sometimes! So I circled “Hardly ever” and moved to the next question. I didn’t want to consider that I might have a touch of postpartum depression. I mean, I didn’t feel depressed! I loved this new life I was living, even amidst the exhaustion and daily worries!
Again, I passed my PPD screening and was released from my doctor’s care with no restrictions and no further follow ups.
Gearing up to go back to work
My job required me to be on the road A LOT! (One of my biggest fears during pregnancy was that I would be on the road when I went into labor. Thankfully, God didn’t allow that to happen, but it was close. I was supposed to head out on the road on the morning that my water broke.) I had talked to my boss prior to going on leave, and she had graciously worked with me to devise a plan to keep me home for the first 3 months coming back, with limited travel for another 3 months after that.
Most weeks, I was in a hotel 2-3 nights. Thomas and I had discussed how we would manage this before we even began trying to get pregnant. But then we were thrown a curve ball upon learning we would be having twins (read more about that here!). Still, we were both committed to making this work. After all, we really didn’t have much choice. We needed two incomes to live the life we wanted to live, and I knew in my heart I couldn’t nor did I want to be a stay at home mom. (Mad props to those of you out there who do stay home full time! You are superheros in my eyes!)
Daycare
As I was gearing up to go back to work, daycare arrangements became top of mind. I had planned to take P&K to a daycare center that a dear friend was also using and loved. I was so confident in my decision that I hadn’t really checked out other options.
So about a month before going back to work, I packed up P&K and headed to the center for a visit. I left that visit and cried all the way home.
There were a couple key things that really bothered me about my visit. One thing was that the workers in the infant room seemed more interested in the television screen mounted on the wall than they did in wiping the snot that seemed to be streaming down each child’s face who was in their care.
The second thing was the director, specifically the cold sore that was oozing on her lip. She kept touching it, and then she would touch anything and everything else. (Remember my fear of the babies contracting Herpes Simplex 1?) During our meeting, I asked her what protocol was if a child or staff member had an active cold sore or other communicable infection. I remember my voice shaking as I asked. I can’t remember her exact response, but I remember it involved something to the effect of she would never do anything to pass her cold sore to others. She assured me none her own children even had cold sores. This wasn’t enough for me. And I knew in my heart I couldn’t take my babies here.
I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do. There was absolutely no way I was going to find an acceptable daycare facility with only a month before I had to go back to work. And how was I going to tell my friend? I had no idea how to tell her that the daycare center she loved wasn’t going to work for us. What would she think? Would she be offended? Hurt? Angry? I decided I would sleep on all of this.
The next morning I woke up, and I still knew I couldn’t take P&K to the daycare center we had visited. I began my search and I called EVERY daycare center that was within a reasonable distance. Nothing. No openings. Only a couple of openings expected to come up within a few months.
A few days later, I went over to my mom’s house. I had spent the last few days an absolute mess of anxiety and worry. I sat the infant carriers on her kitchen table and we were working on getting P&K unbuckled. She asked me how my daycare visit had gone. At that moment, I was holding Kayden. I clutched him closer, and just started bawling.
During the conversation that followed with my mom, she mentioned calling the daycare center at our local YMCA. I wanted something with a curriculum for learning, somewhere that also allowed plenty of free play, somewhere that did not use TV or movies to occupy the children (I mean come on, I want to be able to entertain them myself with screen time…), and somewhere that was state certified. The Y fit all of these requirements.
I called, set up a visit, and LOVED it! I loved everything about it! The facility, the staff, the security and safety measure in place, the curriculum, the fact that it was much closer than any other center. And let me tell you, God was in control because they not only had an opening, but they could take 2 babies in just a couple of weeks. I signed the paperwork before leaving. It was in this moment that I felt like I was truly prepared to go back to work. In this moment, I had a sense of peace about going back even.
BAck to the grind- adjusting to a new normal
When I went back to work, I re-entered my job with a completely new team. My boss had accepted a different position within the company, and my territory was moved to a different division, resulting in a new boss and new colleagues. Everything was different. I no longer was confident that I knew what was expected of me.
The next four months were hell. I did not feel like myself at all. I felt very disconnected from myself. More often than not, I was angry or crying or just plain scared.
Because I had a new boss, I also had new expectations around my travel. Overnights started sooner than I had planned for them to. Hotel stays were almost unbearable. I tried to get as much work done on my laptop as possible in the evenings so I would have less workload when I was home, but I couldn’t focus. I was angry. I wasn’t sure at what, but I was definitely angry. I spent most of my drive time crying. I could not wait to get home!
When I finally was on my way home, my anxiety would kick into high gear. I felt like I had to get home to P&K NOW. I felt like if I didn’t get home right now, something terrible was going to happen to them. I didn’t know what, I just knew they were going to be in danger. Often times, I would drive in excess of the speed limit, trying to get to them just a little bit sooner.
I was happiest at home. But the anxiety didn’t go away. I was less anxious about something terrible happening to P&K and more anxious about my next overnight stay that was inevitably coming up the next week.
I started to experience a host of physical symptoms. Chest tightness, constant stomach issues, loss of appetite, insomnia, exhaustion, feeling disconnected from my body like I was on autopilot and frequent crying were all becoming my norm.
It was at this point that I began to wonder if I was experiencing some type of postpartum depression. I began googling postpartum depression symptoms. But I just didn’t relate to all of the symptoms I was finding. I hadn’t lost interest in activities. I wasn’t feeling hopeless. I wasn’t having difficulty bonding with my babies. I wasn’t having any thoughts of self harm or thoughts of harming my babies. So I was convinced what I was feeling must be normal.
But then the way I was feeling began affecting my work. More than one person noticed that I was different. Of course, no one told me this directly, but I heard the rumors and the whispers.
A turning point
My world came crashing down when the Vice President of the company was visiting in my territory. You see, you really have to have your best foot forward during these visits. And I didn’t. And she noticed. She had a very serious conversation with me that day. And then my boss also had the same conversation with me a few days later.
They were both concerned more than anything, really. I wasn’t the same. They weren’t seeing the passion, the positive disposition, the leadership that I once possessed. They were starting to question if I was the right person for the role. They didn’t say this directly, but I knew it in my soul. I had never before in my life felt like my job was on the line, but I felt this now.
To be truthful, I had many thoughts about going back to direct patient care as a dental hygienist before these conversations took place. I hated being on the road now, something I once really enjoyed. I was utterly exhausted. I was not, on any level, enjoying my role. But I was scared. I was scared of what Thomas would think if I mentioned this to him. After all, it would be a significant change in compensation, and we enjoyed the financial freedom this job afforded us.
I had grown bored in clinical practice before, which was why I left it in the first place. I didn’t want to go back to a place of where I felt unfulfilled. And there wasn’t even an opening to go back to at this point.
Also, I had spent so much time during my pregnancy convincing my teams, my offices and my own leaders and bosses that I was indeed coming back after I had these babies, that I felt like if I changed my mind now, I was failing. I’ve never failed at anything in my life. I felt like I was failing now, regardless of the decision I made.
I finally broke down and talked to Thomas. I think he was 100% surprised by the conversation. You see, I hadn’t let him see how I was feeling. He didn’t know about the crying, the anxiety, the physical sickness I was feeling. He didn’t know any of it. So this was way out of left field for him. But, in true Thomas fashion, he was fully supportive of whatever decision I made. He said we would figure it out, one way or another.
So the next step was talking to my boss. She was scheduled to visit with me the following week. I called the owner doctor I had worked with before stepping out of clinical practice and asked if he would take me back as a hygienist in one of his practices. He said yes, without hesitation.
When Shawn visited that next week, before I could start the conversation, she asked if I had considered going back to clinical practice. This wasn’t the first time the topic had been brought up, but at that moment, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. She told me the decision was mine. I knew I was unhappy. I knew I needed to change something. I didn’t know if this was the thing or not, but at that moment, I didn’t have a better thing to change. So during that conversation, sitting in Potbelly restaurant, I told Shawn that I would go back into a clinical role.
I fully believe that God was in control in that moment. Well, in every moment really. But every little detail began falling into place after that conversation, including the opening of a position for me.
Relief. Followed by more anxiety
After making this decision to come off the road and go back into a clinical job, I fully believed that my anxiety would wane, my anger would dissipate, and I would start to feel like myself again. I didn’t expect my anxiety to go away completely. I mean I still had two beautiful, precious babies, and the world was still a scary place to raise babies.
I was wrong. Within a few weeks my anxiety was back in full swing. All of the same feelings and symptoms crept their way back into my life, one by one. I still hadn’t let my husband into how or what I was feeling. I decided to call my doctor.
I sat in my closet, with the door shut, hiding from absolutely nobody. I dialed my doctor’s office and with a shaky voice explained that I thought I might be suffering from postpartum depression even though my babes were 8 months old, and I thought I would like to set up an appointment with my doctor.
the appointment
My doctor’s office got me in within a day or so of me calling. By the time I was walking into the office, I was prepared. I had a list of all of my symptoms, and I had rehearsed what I was going to say. I honestly didn’t really know what they were going to say though. I didn’t want to be dependent on any type of medicine long term, but I also didn’t want to continue feeling this way.
The appointment did not go at all like I had planned.
The first thing they had me do was repeat the postpartum depression scale assessment. Then I waited on Becca, the midwife I was scheduled with. When she walked into the room she was very calm, understanding, patient, even nurturing. She asked me to tell her how I’d been feeling lately. I had rehearsed, planned, and vowed not to cry. But I broke down anyway. She let me say everything I needed to say, and then she simply stated,
“You have severe postpartum anxiety with mild postpartum depression. I would like to start treatment for you today.”
All I said was “Okay.”
It was a diagnosis. It was a first step. It was confirmation that life didn’t have to be like this and that I wasn’t crazy. It was light at the end of the tunnel. It was a plan. It was relief. Relief.
Looking back
Today, as I sit here typing this, I can’t help to think how much I love my life, right now, in this moment. And how glad I am that I decided to pick up the phone and call my doctor’s office that day in November, hiding in my closet.
Becca started me on medication to help control my anxiety, both short term and long term. I started feeling better almost immediately! I went into it thinking that I would use the medicine to get me through, to help in the short term, and then I would be able to stop it. I didn’t want to be reliant on it forever. I was almost ashamed that I had to take it in the first place. Hell, I didn’t even tell my husband that I started taking it right away! (I can’t remember exactly when it was that I did tell him, but I do know it was after I felt like my head was right again.) You should know, though, I’m still taking that medicine today, almost 2 years after I started. It allows me to feel like myself again! And I don’t want to give that backup!
Of course, I still feel anxious at times. Remember, I have 2 precious babies (well, toddlers now!) and the world is still a scary place. But I can leave the house with them and I don’t excessively worry. I don’t cry on the daily anymore. My physical symptoms of anxiety are gone. I know it sounds cliche, but I feel like myself again!
I even noticed that I started doing the things again that I loved doing before becoming a mama! I really hadn’t even realized I’d stopped these things! I hang out with my girlfriends again, sans children. I bake. I crank the music up on my drive to work and jam out. I take care of myself without feeling guilty. I sit in the barn with Thomas and a glass of wine after the twins go to bed and enjoy the sunsets.
I’m certainly not saying that medicine or anti-depressants are right for everybody. I am not a doctor, so please don’t use my personal experience as a diagnostic tool for yourself or others. What I am saying is that there is help out there if you don’t feel like yourself. PPA and PPD are real medical conditions, just as real as diabetes or asthma or heart disease. Your emotional health is just as important as your physical health! So mama, if you’re reading this and you feel like something isn’t quite right, you owe it to yourself and to your baby (or babies) to reach out for help!
With love, Amanda
P.S. I thought very hard about whether or not I wanted to share this part of my motherhood journey with you. And now that it’s complete, I’m still nervously hovering over the “Publish” button. It’s very personal, very raw. I was embarrassed about how I felt, embarrassed that I had to take a pill every day to feel like myself. Remember, I didn’t tell anyone, not even my husband how I was feeling or that I started taking an anti-depressant to manage my severe anxiety. But overtime, I’ve realized that I’m not broken. This is life, and life can be hard! It’s okay to ask for help! A lot of my closest friends don’t even know this part of my life. But I decided that if my story and my experience could help just one other person who might be feeling like I did, then it would be worth putting myself and my story out there. So if you’ve read this far, THANK YOU! Thank you for sharing this journey with me!
” You were born to be real. Not to be perfect.”
author unknown.
Xochil silva says
Wow, this can never get enough light.
Wish more women spoke up.
I actually didn’t bond with my baby till she was 2 months old. It was rough
Mom says
My dear, sweet, baby girl. I love you with all my heart. Even as your mother, I never knew you were going through a lot of this. I mean, having twins is a huge, huge responsibility, especially when you never had a baby before.(They are nothing like the virtual doll, that they send home with you from school, to take care if for a weekend.) Lol! Exhaustion has a whole new meaning. Postpartum Depression and Anxiety is something completely different. Many times it is not recognized by yourself, your husband, or even your mom. I knew that your job wasn’t going to work for you, with your two new, beautiful babies. I also knew that I couldnt be the one to tell or convince you of that. You had worked so hard to get where you were with your career, climbing the ladder of success. And you did it quckly and perfectly. You were one of their best, in leadership, and your dad and I were so proud of you. But, ladders are made to be folded and put away, when a job is done. (Later you may come back to it for another project.) There’s no reason to stay up on the ladder, when the house is painted, when there are beautiful flowers on the ground that need watered and nutured. You made the right decision.
You are right. You never really failed at anything. You have always been a perfectionist. Even as a toddler, the seam on your socks had to perfectly straight across your ties, before we could put your shoes on. (And you swore there was a left and right sock!) You most certainly have not failed with this trial in your life. It is merely an obtacle, that has been put there for you to learn to hurdle over(and you have).
I wish that I could have been more of your “closet”, but I am so proud that you crawled inside that closet and dialed that number. I am so proud that you are sharing your most kept secret of your journey, so that others may recognize the symptoms of Postpartum Depression and Anxiety earlier, so they do not suffer so much, before getting help.
Above all else, Sis, let God be your guide. John 15:5…..without Him, we can do nothing.
Love you, Sis, with all my heart๐–Mom
Brittany says
Love you! Thanks for sharing this raw time in your life! Your โdear friendโ has no hard feeling, although it was hard to hear at the time! Iโm thankful for our friendship and that our kids have an awesome support system we have created! I canโt wait to see what the future has in store for all of us ๐
Kendra says
Love you and love reading your story. We are all in this together and should never be embarrassed to discus our feelings and thoughts. It truly takes a village and I am very happy to get to be part of your village. Keep being the amazing person and mom that you are!