Books, magazines and movies always made pregnancy look as if everything was and would be smooth sailing. The “glowing”, happy a pregnant mother was what we all saw where everything seemed like rainbows and warm, sunny picnics. What nobody wanted to talk about was Post Partum Depression. No one spoke about this period of tumultuous emotions that women could possibly go through after having a baby. Not the movies, or the books, or the magazines. There wasn’t even a whisper about it.
When I found out that I was pregnant, like every other newly expectant mother out there, I researched like it was nobody’s business. The good thing was, though, by then, women had begun to speak out. Thank God. There were now forums, reports, articles among other online sources that spoke about this crippling period of a woman’s life.
So when my best friend said to me: “You might get the baby blues.” Want to know what I had the nerve to say? “It won’t affect me.” Who did I think I was?”
I’m not sure exactly when it hit me, but, it hit me. It hit me hard!
My emotions went through a myriad of complexities. There were times when I felt absolutely nothing. Other times, I felt everything. All at once. Hate, anger, sadness, feelings of being unworthy, guilt, and other feelings which I have no idea how to describe.
For the longest time, I didn’t understand what was happening. I couldn’t, and never once did it occur to me that I was suffering from Post Partum Depression. There were times when I felt so disappointed in myself where I would feel that there was no purpose to my existence. I had such loving and supportive people around me, but yet I felt alone. The worst part about it all was that I couldn’t pull myself out of this quicksand of emotions. I knew that there was something wrong, but I kept it to myself and I reached out to no one.
Every day I would feel myself sink further and further. The more I tried to ignore it, the deeper I would sink. Still, no one knew. I had put on the bravest face that I could. I smiled when I was supposed to and spoke when I was spoken to. But, when I was alone, I bawled.
Desperately, I would try to focus only on my baby, tried to hold on to the love that I knew I had for her. Although her presence should have been enough, I began to feel even worse. I felt as if I wasn’t capable of being what she needed me to be. When she grew up, what did I have, or what had I done that would make her proud of me? I had nothing to offer her. At least, that’s what my mind told me.
Coupled with all those feelings was the self-placed guilt that my baby wasn’t enough to make me, in those moments, happy. I felt even more guilty when I began to question myself if there was something wrong with me? Did this mean that I didn’t love her enough?
My mind went dark. Really dark. As much as I wanted them to, all the coos and cute smiles. I had sunken too deep.
I felt like I was choking on my own emotions. Like I was losing consciousness. That was when I expressed myself the only way I felt safe enough to, through my writing.
That’s when I wrote this;
“Just see me”
“I see the way you look at me when I look tired, I see the way you see me because you can’t understand, But all I wish is that… I just wish you’d see me.
I see the disappointment in your eyes that borders on loathe, I see the way you see me because I don’t do things for the reasons that I should, I see that you still believe in me, I just wish you’d believe for me, I see how much you love me, I just wish you’d see me.
I see the worry in your eyes when you look at me, I see you when you say no because you think I don’t have enough to share, I just wish you’d see me.
I see the hopes you have for me, I see how much you believe in me, I see that you see me, I just wish I’d see me too.
I see how much you don’t judge me, I see how much you don’t have high expectations of me, I see that all you want from me is love, I see all the love that you have for me regardless, I see that you see me although you may not even know me yet, I just wish there could be more to me, I just wish I’d be what you”ll need me to be.
I see how much you believe in me, I see how much you have given me, I see that you know what’s best for me, I know how much you love and protect me, I see that you have lots in store for me, I just wish I could see it too, I see how much I want to have faith, I just wish I knew if there’ll be a time when I’ll have my pie, I just wish I knew that I deserved to.
I see how much I want to believe in me, I just wish that I could find me. I see how much I want to love me, I just wish I could see reasons to. I wish I could see how people saw me, But it shouldn’t matter, If only I knew me. I just wish that I could see me.”
That was how I felt.
Exactly how I felt. That’s what Post Partum depression can do to someone. Luckily, I had an outlet, writing. Many women have not been so lucky. I also had a strong support system around me, and although I never spoke to them about it, they kept me grounded and I do believe that if I hadn’t had them, then there might have been a different outcome.
Postpartum Depression is no joke. There are few women out there who want to talk about and inform people about it. Other women are just oblivious to the possibility that they too may have to one day face this crippling changed behaviour. The rest of the world simply ignores it, labelling it as nothing more than a phase that women have to go through.
But, take it from me. Post-Partum Depression is more than that. Way more.
Seek Help!
If you or someone you know is being affected by Postpartum Depression, seek help. Talk to someone. Supporting Mamas is one online group that can help. I’m no professional, but you can reach out to me. Speaking with someone who can relate to you may help.
Know that you are worth more than what that condition is making you believe. Take a look at those tiny little fingers gripping yours. Your baby needs you. If you have an outlet, use it. Just don’t allow the darkness to overtake you.
I’d love to hear your experience with Post Partum Depression. Let’s talk about it. Comment them below. Who knows, your story may be helpful to someone else.
