Postpartum OCD

Mom Searched Two Years For Diagnosis of Postpartum OCD

By Katherine Stone January 25, 2012

Every now and then I get an email from a mom that reinforces why we need so much more awareness of perinatal mood and anxiety disorders, even among physicians. I’ve reprinted Britta Brooks’ email here, with her permission:

I reached out and reached out again and again, but was told that I do not have depression. Because I took care of my household (a little too much, by the way … I cleaned and cleaned) and because I felt close to my daughter, my family physician said I didn’t have postpartum depression and that I should not worry about my visions and thoughts.

I thought I was going crazy. Maybe it was just in my head. It felt to me almost like I needed to know my own diagnosis to find the right doctor. I eventually talked to my OB/GYN — by that time my little girl was more than two years old — and he misinterpreted what I was telling him. I told him without sugar coating it what I visually saw (intrusive thoughts). I told him the truth because I was so desperate for help and thought I had nothing to lose, and the truth landed me in a closed psychiatric unit. [Read more...]

January 25, 2012 10:56 am Filed Under: Postpartum OCD

Researchers Say They Can Prevent Postpartum OCD

By Katherine Stone August 22, 2011

Psychologists say they have found a way to prevent or at least seriously reduce the incidence of postpartum obsessive-compulsive disorder or postpartum OCD. Researchers from the University of Miami, Florida State University and the University of North Carolina found that identifying mothers at risk for postpartum OCD and putting them into a prevention program that included cognitive behavioral therapy techniques helped reduced the mothers’ anxiety and OCD symptoms. Their findings have been published in the Journal of Psychiatric Research.

[Read more...]

August 22, 2011 9:57 am Filed Under: Postpartum Depression, Postpartum OCD

Need Help Finding A Postpartum Depression Specialist?

By Katherine Stone June 2, 2011

Fotolia - © Vladimir Vydrin

On the Postpartum Progress Facebook Fan Page, a reader asked about how to find the best help for postpartum depression or related illnesses. My advice? Ask a mom who knows. I think the best people to talk to are women who have already been through PPD who have been to someone who was really supportive and helped them recover.

There are a lot of survivors hanging out here with us at PP, so I feel fortunate to have gotten to know a lot of the specialists around the country thanks to them and my advocacy work. I am always happy to connect you with them. You can find some listed on the Postpartum Progresspostpartum depression specialists page, or you can ask me a question on Facebook, or you can email me.

Another great thing to do is speak to local advocacy organizations. They often have the best knowledge around about who has a lot of experience in your state treating women with perinatal mood and anxiety disorders. We have a list of postpartum depression support organizations – just find your state alphabetically in the list and contact the organization directly.

Please note, when I say “postpartum depression specialist” that is shorthand for a specialist in perinatal mood and anxiety disorders, also called reproductive psychiatry or perinatal psychiatry. This means this person should be able to help you regardless of whether you have postpartum depression, postpartum anxiety, postpartum OCD, postpartum psychosis, antenatal depression (depression during pregnancy) or whatever. So don’t feel that if you don’t have PPD there is no one who can help you.

I try wherever possible to include special treatment centers from other English speaking countries as well, including the UK, Australia and Canada, so if you are from one of those countries, you may be able to find good contacts from our support organization and specialists lists as well.

Oh!, and DO NOT feel uncomfortable asking me for help, silly. That’s what I’m here for. YOU. So ask away if you just don’t have the energy to search yourself.

Just wanted to do a quick refresher for those of you who aren’t sure how to find someone to help you.

June 2, 2011 12:54 pm Filed Under: Postpartum Anxiety, Postpartum Depression, Postpartum OCD

Does Summer Break Overwhelm You?

By Katherine Stone June 2, 2011

This time of year makes me think of when I had postpartum OCD and was afraid to be alone with my baby. I still get that same twinge when summer comes and I worry about how to keep my two kids entertained all day long. Whether I have what it takes to get through two-and-a-half months of stay-at-home momdom. I wrote about it in my ParentDish column: Why Summer Break Scares Me

Wondered whether any of you who have survived a perinatal mood or anxiety disorder get that same feeling when summer break arrives. Is it just me? I mean, I know I'll be fine and we'll have fun, but I always have this temporary feeling that I'll be overwhelmed. I hate that feeling. A lot.

June 2, 2011 12:01 pm Filed Under: Postpartum OCD

Katherine Stone: On Postpartum OCD & Finding The Elusive “Mother Love”

By Katherine Stone May 8, 2011

Dear New Moms:

What is mother love? What is it supposed to feel like when you have one of those unbreakable bonds, when you love your mama so much that you'd call her name as a mortally-wounded soldier on the battlefield, or phone her once a week when you're a grownup just to make sure she's okay, or write in a ninth grade essay that she's the most important person in your life? How does that work? How does that feel?

I've got nothing.

When I was little, my mom was ill. It wasn't her fault. She's a good person. She just had postpartum depression and didn't know it was the cause of her misery. She wasn't treated, because who even knew what PPD was then?The only way she could figure out to get through her life at the time was to self-medicate. I'm not sure what she remembers or how she perceives my childhood, since we've never really talked about it, but I know it was a topsy turvy place. One hopes that one's mother will be a rock: dependable, stable, supportive, even, calm. A seriously self-medicated mom is none of those, at least not for any length of time. One never knew whether nice mommy or scary mommy was around the bend.

Eventually things got pretty bad and my parents divorced when I was in third grade. Less than two years later, my father remarried. A very wonderful woman, she is, who took it upon herself to raise another woman's two children, having none of her own at the time when she became my father's wife.

She wasn't perfect. NO ONE IS. But she was a great mom. She tried hard. She made things for us. She created special rituals, like pink pancakes on Valentine's Day and handmade bunnies at Easter. She taught my brother and I to play Yahtzee. She talked to me about sex, and periods and women's bodies with such ease and openness that I remember it to this day. She did her best. Still, it was hard for me to feel whatever children feel when they are closecloseclose to their mamas. I was too far gone. I didn't know it, but I had already shut down long ago to protect myself from feeling much of anything.

I went on to have a very nice life. I grew up, my dad and "new" mom had two more children, my lovely sisters, and I went to college, met a man, fell in love and got married. Eight years later it became time for me to have a baby myself, and once again …

I've got nothing.

"I can't do this." "How will my baby ever love me?" "I'm not sure I know what mother love is." I realized I have a hollow space inside where mother love is supposed to be. I have a hard time with intimacy, and there is not much that is as intimate (in the non-sexual sense of the word, of course!) than the relationship of mother and child. I had no sense of what to do or how to behave, and was completely convinced I'd be an abject failure. These feelings were a shock to me, as I was so excited and happy to become a mom during my pregnancy.

The feelings weren't concrete to me either, at least not in a way that I could have explained it to you then. I didn't recognize the origins of my postpartum OCD at the time. It took years of therapy for me to realize what was going on deep down in places inside me I'd prefer not to visit, and how that affected my perception of my ability to mother.

I don't like going back to ugly town.

The only thing that was obvious to me after my son was born was that I was crazy. I was a sobbing, scared, sleepless and seriously defective mother who had no business raising a beautiful child. I was potentially harmful, with thoughts running through my head that should never see the light of day. Or …

Or.

Or I was just sick. I came by my illness honestly, a combination of childhood trauma, family history of mental illness, anxious and perfectionistic personality, and whatever else mixed in the pot to bring about one of the worst experiences of my life. No one warned me that I had several risk factors for postpartum depression and anxiety, which sucks out loud and which I've come to believe is fairly inexcusable in this day and age. But once I sussed out the fact that it wasn't me that was crappy but was instead the illness, I could move forward toward a solution.

You can, too. However it is you came to have postpartum depression or anxiety or OCD or psychosis or PTSD or antenatal depression or anxiety or post-adoption depression, you came by it honestly as well. It's not your fault. You didn't cause it, and it's highly likely no one ever talked to you about whether you had the risk factors for it. I'm hoping we can change that so that mothers in the future will have greater awareness and a plan in place to get effective help as soon as possible.

I'm better, friends. I got treated and I recovered fully. Like 100000% fully. And I found the motherlode of mother love, maybe not in the traditional way or the easy way, but I found it and I have it now — in the form of my precious children, Jackson and Madden — and I refuse to ever let it go.

Never not ever.

I madly love mother love.

Katherine Stone is the founder and editor of Postpartum Progress the blog, and the founder and chief Warrior Mom of Postpartum Progress the non-profit. She also writes a weekly column on motherhood at ParentDish called If Mama Ain't Happy. Follow her on Twitter at @postpartumprogr.

Note: Thanks to both my moms for doing their best and helping to make me a pretty decent person after all.

Donations to Postpartum Progress can be made here: http://postpartumprogress.org/donate-postpartum-depression-2/

May 8, 2011 8:00 pm Filed Under: Mother's Day Rally for Mental Health, Postpartum OCD, Warrior Moms

Surviving the Rogue Wave of Postpartum Depression & Anxiety

By Katherine Stone May 3, 2011

I was driving down the road, listening to the news in my car as usual. The subject of the interview to which I was listening was a young woman named Abby Sunderland. Abby was sixteen years old when she attempted to become the youngest person to sail around the world solo. Six months into her journey, her sailboat Wild Eyes was hit by a rogue wave, snapping off her mast. After three days adrift in a remote part of the Indian Ocean she was rescued.

While answering a question about how she got through such a terrifying experience, she said, “Everyone gets hit by a rogue wave at some point in their lives.” Her comment struck me immediately. I’ve been hit by a rogue wave. It was called postpartum OCD.

According to Wikipedia, “rogue waves (also known as freak waves, monster waves, killer waves, extreme waves, and abnormal waves) are relatively large and spontaneous ocean surface waves that occur far out in sea.” These waves can be as tall as a 10-story building, and are a threat even to large ships and ocean liners.

Prior to 2001, I would have thought myself a large ocean liner, capable of handling any storm that came my way. But like the cruise ship in the 2006 Hollywood movie Poseidon, I too was thrown upside down by a surprise wave, only this one was a wave of emotions that felt like they came out of nowhere.

While it’s not a one-to-one comparison, I do have some understanding of how it feels to be stuck in a lonely corner of the world, everything tossed about and topsy turvy. I felt completely isolated, and as though I’d never be rescued from the nightmare of postpartum OCD. How I’m sure you feel with postpartum depression.

Abby Sunderland survived. She was spotted by a Qantas airplane and picked up by a French fishing vessel 2,000 miles west of Australia, as reported by the Huffington Post.

Not only did she survive the ordeal, she is still sailing and says she would attempt to sail around the world again without hesitation.

I was eventually rescued from the middle of my own dismal and remote location, thanks to professional treatment, and I would have my sweet baby boy again, without hesitation, too.

May 3, 2011 9:53 am Filed Under: Postpartum Depression, Postpartum OCD, Warrior Moms

Having A Child After Postpartum Depression: A Short Film

By Katherine Stone April 25, 2011

The following is a 5-minute film about my experience with postpartum OCD, featuring interviews with both myself and my husband, and my experience having a second child after recovering. (One thing — it says I didn’t feel better until 2 years postpartum, but it was actually 1 year.)

Many of you asking me whether you should have a baby after having postpartum depression. There’s no right answer. But I want you to see what happened in my case, as an example of a happy ending.

Hope you like it. I’m so pleased to have worked with the amazing team at ShareWIK again on this video. They do such an amazing job of putting together stories about health, and I’m honored to work with them. ALSO, so very proud of my husband!!

(Note: If the screen is too small, you can hope over to ShareWIK & watch it there to see the full screen.)

April 25, 2011 9:15 am Filed Under: Postpartum OCD, Video

Obsessed With Cleaning & Organizing: Coping With Postpartum Anxiety

By Katherine Stone March 29, 2011

On yet another symptom of postpartum anxiety and postpartum OCD:

It was one of the most precious rooms we’ve ever created in our home. Each item was painted, hung, and constructed with love and anticipation of our baby. Its cheery yellow walls and the sweet smell of lightly scented baby powder would always invite me to come in every time I walked past it. I would often take a seat in the antique rocking chair, smoothing my hands over my swollen belly, excited and ready to fill this room with all the daydreams I had. The sleepless nights, the changing, the cuddles, the smiles, the happiness and the love would all take place there.

Those daydreams never came to life when we brought him home. That room, that cheerful loving room we created instead housed tears, anxiety, rage, and pain.

1…2…3…4

Was the number of times the washcloths had to be folded.

1…2…3…4

They were placed seam side down according to color.

1…2…3…4

If the washcloths weren’t perfectly aligned or folded or color coordinated or placed in the changing table perfectly I would start over …

And over …

And over.

I would spend anxiety-riddled hours toiling over the changing table’s organization. The diapers had to be aligned with the front facing out. The burp cloths where folded 3 times — no more, no less. The Vaseline label, wipe container label and baby lotion label had to be facing out. The changing pad cover was never to have any creases or lint.

And no matter how many times I tore it apart and organized and reorganized its drawers, it was never perfect enough. Because of this, the anxiety I was already experiencing was fuelled to crippling proportions and the rage I felt towards myself for not being “perfect” was terrifying. I remember my husband doing the laundry once and haphazardly putting the washcloths away. I was so enraged that I punched a wall and locked myself in the bathroom. While I was in there, my husband refolded and reorganized the cloths the way I specifically wanted. Then I ran in after him and redid them after he left the room.

It didn’t stop at the changing table. I had my baby’s closet organized by color. His socks were done by color. His books organized alphabetically and by size. There was to be no dog hair in his room. I swept his floor every hour.

After feedings or changes there would sadly be no cuddles or smiles or kisses. I would hurryingly and anxiously put him back in his crib so I could resume cleaning and organizing. I just couldn’t stop myself.

For the longest time, I thought that I was the only person in the world who was a changing table/nursery room Nazi and I had kept this little secret to myself. Then one night, I read a tweet from Katherine. She mentioned that she too had struggled with obsessing over burp cloths and washcloths and that this behavior was actually more common than I had thought. This is why I am writing this today.

I was never diagnosed with postpartum OCD, however, my psychiatrist said that this was a coping mechanism for me … that when I cleaned and organized, I was taking control because my mind and my world felt so out of control. Controlling what I could gave me a sense of power over my situation.

One of the things that helped me to let go of this behavior were 2 simple statements that my psychiatrist has said over and over at every appointment. I actually have them written out and placed in various “go-to organization” spots in my home, like the changing table.

“There is nothing in this world that is worth all this worry.”

When I find myself starting to fold and feeling the postpartum anxiety gripping my lungs tightly, I will repeat this line. After a while it does make me laugh. Like duh, why am I worrying about how many times I’m folding these wash cloths? Is it going to kill me if the green washcloths are mixed with the blue? No, so stop worrying about it.

The second statement:

“I only have to be good enough.”

This one took a while to sink in since I have always had issues with perfectionism, only postpartum depression and anxiety made it 100 times worse. I insert this statement when I feel tempted to rip apart a closet or my husband for not lining up the diapers correctly. It enables me to stop and to walk away.

Two years later, I still find myself rushing to organize something when things get overwhelming or when I feel out of control, but it is definitely better. Now my son’s room isn’t a trigger for anxiety, or sadness, or anger or rage.

It is a place that is finally filled with my daydreams of smiles, love and happiness.

Did you ever find yourself obsessing over the way things were organized or with constantly cleaning? Were you diagnosed with postpartum anxiety or postpartum OCD? What types of methods help you to overcome that compulsion?

Kimberly

March 29, 2011 10:54 am Filed Under: Postpartum Anxiety, Postpartum Anxiety Symptoms, Postpartum OCD

A Therapist Shares Her Personal Experience with Postpartum OCD

By Katherine Stone March 9, 2011

It's turning out to be postpartum OCD/Intrusive Thoughts Week here at Postpartum Progress. This wasn't planned, it's just that I'm hearing from so many of you who are going through this illness, so I'm sharing just a few of the stories I have received. This one is from Tina …

I am a horrible person. I don't deserve to be a mother.

This was the thought I tortured myself with when I starting having fears that I would hurt my daughter early last year. Once I finally gave in and told my doctor about my fears, I learned that this awful experience had a name: intrusive thoughts, or overwhelming fears that I found impossible to ignore. I was sure I was a danger to my daughter and should be immediately hospitalized. My doctor (and everyone else I told) completely disagreed. They never for a moment worried about the welfare of my daughter; the primary concern was always my suffering and how to help me alleviate it. That made no sense to me. Couldn’t they see that I was a ticking time bomb that could go off any minute?! I did everything I could to avoid being alone with my beautiful new baby, as her safety was my only priority.

I so badly wanted to crawl under my bed and never come out. In those early days, I would have given anything to be a “normal” mother with “normal” concerns like sleep deprivation and not showering for two days. Instead, I had been catapulted into a nightmare that I never saw coming. The shame was a physical presence that I carried with me everywhere I went. After my medication started working and the overt anxiety decreased, I looked happy and well-adjusted to other people. I felt like I was playing a role: the “perfect” mother who had never had terrible thoughts of harming her daughter. I would shudder when I would think of how horrified other mothers would be if they knew the truth, and how they would hurry to keep their children away from me.

I later learned that this disorder had strong roots in the anxiety I had before I got pregnant. I had always been a “worrier”, battling fears of certain doom hiding in every corner. I didn’t recognize these thoughts as irrational worries fueled by anxiety; I thought I was the “normal” one, and that those people that didn’t obsessively worry about every little thing were the ones taking their life in their hands. It was the terrifying experience of being afraid I might hurt my daughter that forced me to look at my thinking pattern and investigate ways I could change it. That was quite a revelation — I can change the way I think and then I can feel better? You would think that a therapist with ten years of experience treating anxiety in other people would have had this concept down, but it was my strange belief that it applied to everyone but me.

Determined to find a way to out of this nightmare, I stayed on my prescribed medication, and set about reading everything I could about this disorder. I especially craved stories of recovery from postpartum OCD that would give me hope that the nightmare would end one day. Having identified that my fears of hurting my daughter were actually a symptom of a bigger issue, I also started doing self-help work designed to change my reaction to these horrible thoughts. After all, they were just thoughts. I was the one giving them power by assuming that thoughts and actions are the same thing. Coming to understand this reality gave me an amazing insight: I was not a defective mother; I was a person with anxiety that could learn to control it and move on with my life.

I can obsess later.

This is my new way of thinking. Just over a year later, I have gained control over my intrusive thoughts, and they no longer run my life. I still have moments of uncertainty when the old fears creep in, but I give myself permission to put those thoughts away for the time being and get back to what I was doing. I can always go back to obsessing later on if I feel the need. The very act of acknowledging my obsessions puts me back in the driver’s seat of my own mind.

The energy I used to expend being terrified and making sure any time I was alone with my daughter was as limited as possible is now being used to teach her about the world. I marvel at her curiosity and revel in her love of life. Surviving this experience has made me appreciate just how blessed I am to be her mother. The shame that used to plague me has been turned into an inner strength that I have vowed to use to help other women find their way out of the darkness of postpartum OCD and into the light of recovery.

March 9, 2011 9:00 am Filed Under: Postpartum Anxiety, Postpartum OCD

Postpartum Anxiety & Intrusive Thoughts: One Mom’s Story

By Katherine Stone March 7, 2011

We often talk about the intrusive thoughts of postpartum anxiety and postpartum OCD here on Postpartum Progress, things like envisioning dropping your baby down the stairs, or much worse. I recently heard from a reader who asked why we don't discuss the unwanted sexual thoughts that can sometimes be a part of intrusive thoughts. It was a great question, because it happens. So I invited Beth to share her story with us.

I was the expectant mother who read everything she could get her hands on about her unborn child. Before she was born, I had dutifully checked off each item that I would need for my new baby. My pregnancy was a breeze, and I felt proud of delivering a healthy 8-pound, 13-ounce baby girl “J.”

The first couple of months went as well as you could expect with a new infant. I was enjoying being a new mother and breastfeeding was going well, but J had a lot of gas and she wouldn’t nap due to acid reflux. I was having a hard time, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. However, other things outside of my daughter started affecting my anxiety levels. My grandmother was very ill and had been hospitalized, information I didn’t learn until after my daughter was born because my mother didn’t want to upset me. One month later she died. The other thing that made me more anxious was my husband’s new job required him to work more hours than we had originally planned, leaving me to do more by myself. We also didn’t have a lot of family and friends to help out on a regular basis. Emotionally I was already teetering, and then I had my first intrusive thought three months after my daughter was born. My world fell apart.

I was changing her diaper and a horrible thought of molesting my daughter flashed through my mind. I spent the next few days trying to understand why I would think such a thing. A normal mother would never think something like that. I thought that something was terribly wrong with me because only a terrible person who belonged behind bars would ever think of something that horrible. The more I worried about the thought, the more unsettled and anxious I got. The thoughts got worse and came at me more frequently. I remember praying frantically, thinking that some sort of evil spirit had taken me over. I withered in silence for a month or so before telling my husband. He tried to help me, but I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t even admit to him how bad it was. All the while, the thoughts got worse and more frequent.

In the meanwhile, I quit my job to stay at home with J. I joined playgroups and a local church, anything to stay busy, but being around other “normal” moms made me feel worse. What would they think if they knew the kind of thoughts I had? They wouldn’t want me to be around their children. They would think I was a horrible person.

Calling to make an appointment with a therapist was difficult. I was afraid that if I told her what I had thought that someone would take my baby away. Somehow I made the appointment and very slowly my story unfolded. I told her about my best friend’s family that I had become very close to at a young age. My single mom appreciated me having a friend whose family welcomed me into their home after school and during the summers. They were a good family who adopted and fostered children. They were active participants in their church. They had a large family and they welcomed me into it with open arms. When I was a teenager, my mother married someone that I didn’t get along with and I went to live with this family.

Shortly after I moved in, one of the girls told me that her father had sexually abused her. I confronted the parents, only to find out that it was true, and that it had not only happened to her, but many of the children. Then they asked me to keep this secret. So I kept it. To my detriment, I kept their secret. I was never abused myself and the abuse was not happening while I lived there, but it had happened. Knowing what had happened and not being able to talk about it, and on some level accepting it by keeping the secret, created a lot of fear and anger in my heart, but I couldn’t deal with it then. So I tucked it away.

All of this fear surfaced when I had J. I was so afraid that something like this could happen to her somehow. The fears didn’t make sense. I was not at risk to be an abuser myself, but none of that mattered. All that mattered to me was that I had had these terrible, unthinkable thoughts and that was enough damnation in my mind. I felt that because I had these terrible thoughts that I would forever be scarred and never the same again. I wanted so badly to take it back or get a do-over. I felt I would never be the mother that I could have been because of these unwanted, intrusive thoughts.

I was hesitant to take antidepressants because I was breastfeeding. But one day I had had enough. The thoughts were bad and I felt like it would never end. I was walking around the house crying and I picked up the phone and called my lactation consultant about going on meds. She supported my decision and I made an appointment with a doctor at my OB office. Luckily, he was very helpful and supportive. Unfortunately, I didn’t stay on that particular antidepressant because I felt out of it and thought it was too strong and didn’t want to pass it on to my daughter, so I went off and tried herbs and tinctures instead. They didn’t work.

Finally, after my daughter’s first birthday and encouragement from my therapist I got put on an antidepressant that worked for me. I started to notice a difference about a month later, and it got me over the hump. I felt like I could deal with this. Yoga and meditation practice has also been helpful in my recovery.

I am doing much better now. I am still having productive therapy sessions and the intrusive thoughts are much less frequent and bothersome. It’s the memory of my postpartum anxiety experience that is the most vivid in my mind. Now, I mostly obsess over how I’m doing and am constantly evaluating myself. I have had a few setbacks that, at the time, were devastating, but each time it was easier to get back up than the time before. I’ve learned to be more compassionate with myself, and I realize that it takes time to get completely better, but the difference now is that I truly believe that I will get there. Through this whole ordeal I can say that I have learned a lot about myself, and all of the work that I have done on myself is making me a better mother and a better person, and for that I am grateful.

Thank you so much for sharing your story Beth. It is possible for women to have unwanted thoughts of a sexual nature as part of their illness. These thoughts can happen regardless of whether you have a history of sexual abuse. It is important to know you are not alone, and you can get help.

March 7, 2011 10:31 am Filed Under: Postpartum Anxiety, Postpartum OCD