An Analysis Of Phrases Moms Use to Warn Their Kids

motherhoodWe don’t spend a lot of time being funny on this blog, for obvious reasons.  It’s hard to laugh when you’re in the midst of the despair of postpartum depression.  But during this holiday season, which can heap even more stress on the already-stressed, I thought I’d give it a try.

Earlier this year, I did an analysis of the most important and oft-used tools in any mom’s arsenal: the warning phrase.

Don’t act like you don’t have one, because I know you do.

I have two. I call them my shot-across-the-bow phrases. They are what I say when my kids are getting on my nerves and I want them to know that if they keep it up, there will be trouble. Or, at least I want them to think if they keep it up, there will be trouble, even though sometimes I’m really not all that committed to carrying through, truth be told.

My first shot-across-the-bow phrase is “Don’t peeve me.” I can’t begin to count how many times I’ve said it. I use this one when I need them to go amuse themselves, or they start doing something they know annoys me. Sometimes I add the word “child” to make it slightly more ominous, as in “Don’t peeve me, child.”

Another one of my favorites is “Don’t make me beat you.” It’s a solid step up from “Don’t peeve me.” I warn them that if they are bad, I will beat them senseless with my Senseless Beating Stick. The Senseless Beating Stick is famous in my house, and has an aura of mystery as it’s never been seen before. The kids are beginning to wonder if it even exists. I’ve explained to them that, if they’re lucky, they’ll never have to find out.

I asked a few other moms to share their fave warning phrases with me, and, when they did, I was surprised at how much each saying made me want to chuckle.

“You’re on the edge, mister.”

“Watch it, young lady.”

“Do I need to put you to bed early?”

I can picture the mom screwing up her face, brows knitted, arms akimbo, delivering her message with the utmost in HUMORLESS VOICE. Warning phrases are serious business.

As it turns out, I found through my very serious investigative research that they also seem to fall neatly into categories.

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Sera: On Healing from Postpartum Depression

Dear New Moms,

It's been nearly two years to the day since I experienced some of my darkest, most difficult, unexpectedly challenging and at times heartbreaking days.

I don't know where you're at in your postpartum journey, but from what I've found in talking with many of my own friends, as well as other women who've had children, so many of us struggle way more than we are willing to admit. I'm writing this in hopes that you will see you're not alone and that you don't suffer by yourself. No one talks about what could happen after you have a baby. It seems all we hear about are rainbows and butterflies and cute little stories of this and that. And if you're knee-deep in a postpartum mood disorder, hearing stories like that makes you want to hurl.

So, here's my little take on the reality that can, and often does, happen to women when they bring their babies home.

It was two years ago that I brought my beautiful and perfectly healthy baby girl, Kaylee, home from the hospital. What I anticipated to be some of the most wonderful and happy days of my life were, to be honest, nothing short of a huge disappointment and the beginning of a long downward spiral for myself and my little family.

Long before I had Kaylee, I made up my mind that we wouldn't have a hard time adjusting. Since being a mother was something I'd always wanted, I pretty much assumed it would all come naturally and I'd get the hang of it quickly.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

We dealt with struggles breastfeeding, Kaylee decided she was way too cool for naps and I had a pretty traumatic physical recovery from giving birth. Within her first four days of life, my pain spiraled out of control to the point where my husband literally had to carry me from my bed to the toilet to use the bathroom. My dignity was nowhere to be found. I couldn't even turn over in bed without being in serious pain. I could not sleep, no matter how bad I wanted to. I remember telling myself that I may never sleep again. I really believed that.

Four days postpartum I had the first panic attack of my life, and I seriously thought that I might be dying. It was terrifying. And utterly humiliating, as my family saw the whole thing.

I went three months before being diagnosed with postpartum depression. Antidepressants got me back on track, thankfully, and I'm someone who can say I made it through.

During my battle I remember feeling things like a loss of hope that I'd ever feel better. I was exhausted, cranky, mean and did not feel like myself. I was resentful that I had such limited involvement in my daughter's life for the first week because I was hardly able to function myself. I still have guilt about the way I treated my husband. The things I said to him … the way I treated him. It makes me shutter just thinking about it.

I remember feeling crazy because I was convinced my child was going to die in her sleep. I'd get up 20 times a night to make sure she was still breathing. I was constantly on edge, I had anxiety levels that shot through the roof, and my husband sat there wondering what in the hell happened to his wife, because I sure as heck wasn't the woman he married.

I didn't think I'd ever go back to feeling like myself. So many days I wished for the carefree feelings I had before I had Kaylee. It felt like I was constantly worrying about her. Worrying about her health. Worrying that she was okay. Worrying that I was doing everything right. Worrying that people were judging me. worrying that she may not like me.

I was a miserable human being and I tried to hide that from the world. I tried to act like everything was okay and I wanted to give the impression that I had my shit together, but I was nowhere near having it together.

I think many of my problems stemmed from having these expectations that never came to fruition. My ideal notion of motherhood had been shattered to pieces. And while I had a healthy little girl who was thriving, I felt like a complete failure and I was truly convinced the "old me" was gone.

I want you to hear this. Really hear this.

When you become a mother, you will never be the same woman you were before you had a child. You will change in so many ways. You will worry more. You might get angry more. You'll lose your patience. You'll have days when you want your old life back.

And that's okay. Because you'll also learn that your heart will hold more love than you every thought possible.

There are countless women who have been through what you are going through. You may be sad, angry, anxious, overwhelmed, crying all day long, unable to see joy in things you used to, or maybe you're having scary thoughts that terrify the crap out of you.

No matter what it is you're going through, please believe me when I say that you're not crazy. Please believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your brain gets so whacked out hormonally during pregnancy and after birth, and there's not a damn thing you can do about that. I have no doubt that whatever you are going through right now, there are countless other women who have gone through something very similar.

Please believe me when I say that you do not have to suffer.

You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be well. And you will get there.

It may very well be that people around you won't understand you. One of the best things you can do it to educate yourself and friends and family about the symptoms of postpartum depression and anxiety, and don't be afraid to be your own advocate.

If you decide to go to therapy, I can't stress enough the importance of finding someone who is trained in and understands the complexity of postpartum mood disorders.

As someone who went through a complete nightmare and made it through to the other side, I'm here to tell you that you can make it too. Two years later I still remember what happened, but it doesn't seem so harsh. The memories aren't as vivid, and in fact, those really scary memories fade more and more each day

You'll never be able to erase what happened to you or your family, but you can heal. You can be well.

Being able to tell my story, to share my experience, to admit some things that I'm not proud of — all of that — has helped me to heal. In fact, the more I talk about it, the more I realize how many women have been suffering in silence, and it's stirred up such a passion within me to advocate for women, to fight for screening, education and treatment, and to do everything I possibly can to help eliminate stigmas attached to postpartum depression and other postpartum mood disorders.

I'm thankful I got help when I did because I think my daughter is none the wiser about what happened. We have an amazing bond and I love her to pieces. I am well. My baby is well. My family is well.

And I want nothing but the very same thing for you.

Sera is the author of Laughing Through the Chaos, a blog about finding the humor in the struggles of motherhood, among many other things. She is a social worker and an advocate for postpartum mood disorder awareness. She is also a very big fan of chocolate and happy pills.

On Postpartum Depression & Eyebrow Grooming

I know you love the Warrior Mom stories, so here are some more on this lovely Friday.

From All Work & No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something, Kimberly writes about getting better.

As I sit here in March, I can tell you that the ugly veil of depression is slowly lifting. I am starting to feel more in my shoes…my old size 9 (yes, they are big) shoes.For once I can say that in the last week I have felt more present andmore content than I have in a very long time.WhenI stared in the mirror this morning, I recognized bits ofme…and boy do my eyebrows need some grooming…why didn’t anyone tell me?!

Emilyat DesignHer Momma writes about "not feeling quite right" after having a baby, but is not sure that it's postpartum depression:

I feel like I'm on the brink of tears all the time. I unexpectedly snap at the girls all the time. Small everyday tasks have become too daunting to complete. The tiniest shift in the schedule can throw me all off. Basically, I feel like I'm always two steps away from losing my sh*t.

Images & Inspiring Words for Moms Suffering From Perinatal Mood Disorders

You Are Not Alone is a lovely little blog that offers a "Daily Dose of Love" in images and inspiring words to women who have postpartum depression. It's a very nice idea.

So far, this is my favorite image.

The Power to Spread the Word 'Round the World About Postpartum Depression

I rely on the Postpartum Progress family to spread the word about this resource. I think we've got a pretty good thing going here, but of course I'm sorta biased. Nonetheless, the only way we have grown to the size we have now is through word of mouth. As I do this all myself, I can't afford ye olde advertising. So I just shout at the top of my lungs to letmoms with postpartum depression/anxiety/OCD/PTSD/psychosis know that there is a place called Postpartum Progress where they can hang out with women just like them and hopefully get some comfort and connect to great support.

To that end, I'd like to humbly ask you the following:

If we're not on your blogroll, and if you think Postpartum Progress is a valuable resource, please add us. Make sure the URL is http://www.postpartumprogress.com

If we're not listed on your website's resources for women with perinatal mood and anxiety disorders, and you think Postpartum Progress is a valuable resource, please add us. If you don't know whether we're listed, please check.

If you see a website that has a lot of traffic from pregnant women and new mothers and they don't list Postpartum Progress as a resource for women who may experience perinatal mood and anxiety disorders, and if you think Postpartum Progress is a valuable resource, send them an email and suggest they link to us.

Also, please send an email to your friends, support group members, organization members and others, ask them to gohere, scroll down to around the late 20s andclick onthe thumbs upfor Postpartum Progress. We were as high as #22 but have dropped down to #30. (ACK!) We need to stay in the top 25!

Your help makes all thedifference. It's like having a thousand extra hands. If I had a thousand extra hands myself, it might look a little freakish.

And thank you SO VERY MUCH to those of you who already link here, have us on your blogroll, wear your survivor badges proudly on your blogs, follow us on Twitter, have joined our Facebook Fan Page, have voted for us in contests and polls, suggested this site to friends and family, or sent in story ideas, etc. YOU are what keeps things going. If it weren't for all of you, I'd still be writing this blog to myself, essentially, like I was when I started it back in July 2004. That would suck.

Y'all are the absolute best. Thanks Warrior Moms.

'Round the World Readers of Postpartum Progress – Top 20 Countries in 2009

  1. United States
  2. Canada
  3. United Kingdom
  4. Philippines
  5. Australia
  6. India
  7. Ireland
  8. New Zealand
  9. Germany
  10. Israel
  11. Indonesia
  12. Belgium
  13. Pakistan
  14. Malaysia
  15. South Africa
  16. Spain
  17. Netherlands
  18. Singapore
  19. France
  20. Italy

Two Moms Who've Made It Through Postpartum Depression

Are you suffering from postpartum depression or anxiety or OCD or psychosis right this very minute? Then click on the links below.

See how these two Warrior Moms, from I Can Grow People and Medicated in Minnesota,are making it through to the other side and looking back on their recovery. Yes. Recovery. Way to go ladies!

You will be able to look back one day too.

More Faces of Postpartum Depression & Anxiety

Many many thanks to Andrea M., Julie H. and Rebecca L. for sending me their photos for the Postpartum Progress Surviving & Thriving Mothers Photo Album!!! You are an inspiration!

On Guilt, Slaying Dragons & Taking Your Anger Out on Plates & Glasses: New Stories from Postpartum Depression Survivors

Apparently Thanksgiving is a time to write openly about postpartum depression in the blogosphere. I was surprised to see such an uptick in stories from women who have gone through it or are currently. I suppose it's because going through such a dark place focuses you like a laser on what you have to bethankful for. Anyway, I wanted to share some highlights from some of the posts I liked. I encourage you to go read them in full.

From Emily at Medicated in Minnesota:

As a mother who went through post-partum depression, the guilt not only starts at the onset of depression and hospitalization, but the guilt continues on and on. I am here, 2 years post birth and I still feel guilty about a lot of things that I did in the beginning. For locking myself out of the house, for forgetting to strap her into her carseat when going to the grocery store, for not solely breastfeeding… The list could go on and on!

From Theresa at No Place Like Home in a revealing post on her postpartum depression experience entitled "Full Disclosure":

"Ifantasized about breaking things, throwing plates and smashing glasses. I had a dark well of anxiety that was now installed in my chest. Liliane was learning how to eat solids and dinner time became a high point of stress for me when she wouldn’t eat and I couldn’t figure out what to give her. Much howling ensued.

June 23, 2008 was the first time I imagined shaking my tiny daughter to make her stop screaming. It was dinnertime, Liliane was yowling and Stéphane had just gotten home. When that violent and horrible image came to me, I cracked and left the house. But not before slamming the cupboard door and the front door as hard as I could bringing sweet, guilty relief for a moment followed by remorse and stinging tears. I wandered around our neighbourhood sobbing, terrified for myself, for what I thought I could do.

I desperately wanted our OLD life back. The one where I knew what I was doing, where I had fun, where I could experience joy. I sat in a little park not far from home and let the tears flow, not caring who saw."

From Molly at My Family Compass, who is a Warrior Mom, too:

"I am exhausted from warding off postpartum depression. Every day I get out of bed, sword drawn, ready to slay the dragon of depression. I fight it off with great energy in the morning, but when darkness falls, the dragon is pretty much singeing my eyebrows with his breath. (If you’re wondering about the whole dragon thing… I like making myself sound like a medieval warrior fighting fantastical beasts rather than a stressed out, sleep deprived new mom with a mental illness. It’s just a thing I do.)"

And finally, from Stacey at Up on Lavender Hill, who had PPD in the past but is having a great experience this time around:

"With Nora Beth, I was in a really dark spot. I had some problems with postpartum depression. I kept up a good false front, but inside I was sinking into a dark hole. When I reached out for help, I felt brushed under the carpet. I felt like I was treated as 'there is no way the doula could be having problems, she is supposed to know how to make it better.' It did not help that Nora Beth made constant noise (read SCREAMED) for the first two years. I had this perfect little girl and yet, this dark hole was all consuming for me. I threw myself into my work. In some sick way, I felt that if I could make it better for another mom, then I could heal myself."

I appreciate their words and their bravery.

NIMH Awards Grant to Study Ways To Get Depressed Mothers To Follow Treatment

Yesterday the National Institute of Mental Health announced it awarded a challenge grant to Judy Garber, PhD, of Vanderbilt University to develop and test a method encouraging depressed mothers to follow treatment recommendations.

"All study participants will receive a referral for treatment and an information pamphlet describing the symptoms of depression and anxiety, possible effects of depression on children and different types of treatments. Randomly assigned participants will also receive a brief, one-session Enhanced Motivation Intervention (EMI). EMI uses special interviewing techniques to identify and resolve a person's concerns about and practical barriers to treatment.

The researchers anticipate that EMI will result in more participants getting treatment for mental disorders compared with the control group. If successful, such interventions would not only benefit the depressed individual, but may improve the well-being of her children as well."

Sarah Pond: A Letter to New Moms

The world I inhabit now is one where sleeping-in is a distant, sweet memory. Where four hours of consecutive sleep is something to celebrate. This is a topsy-turvy, merry-go-round world where every two hours is a cycle of greeting baby when she awakes, diaper changes, breastmilk, burping, spit-ups, playing, dressing, undressing, cuddling, carrying, soothing, fussing, crying, sometimes screaming, and finally guiding baby back to sleep. This goes on 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. There are no breaks.

In this world, I sleep so lightly that I can hear from a room away when her breathing changes. Whenever she calls me, every molecule I am made of JUMPS, LEAPS and is pulled like a powerful magnet to her. At night, every night, when she calls me I am at her side, picking her up even before I am fully awake.

I know when she needs me even on the rare occasion that we are not within hearing distance of one another. Most nights, I wake up the moment before she does. Even the times when I think that I cannot do it another time, that I am absolutely done, depleted, I get up and do what it takes to care for her again. I can conceive of no other option.

Getting outside anywhere is a major feat. Eating proper meals is … well, I haven't finished a meal in 12 weeks. I gulp down whatever I can, whenever I can. Suddenly, things that used to matter (rest, food, leisure, personal space) just don't anymore. And other, new things (plugged milk ducts, poop color, tiny fingernails, fontanel) matter a whole lot.

Her cry isn't just loud, isn't just sad, it's soul-ripping. It feels like part of me is being torn apart when she is inconsolable. Feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, doubt and (yes) resentment are so closely intertwined with joy, wonder, gratitude and serenity, that my heart has had to grow several sizes to accommodate. I can no longer recognized myself. I am scared a lot of the time.

In this new world of mine, a tiny human subsists solely on the sweet, warm milk my body makes just for her. No water or other nourishment has ever passed her lips. She thrives because every three or so hours, she latches on to my breasts and sucks like her little life depends on it, which it does.

And then there's the mother-fear. Mother-fear comes from the awful realization that your heart no longer resides safely in your own body. Now my heart is her and she's completely and totally helpless. How will I ever feel fully safe again, knowing that she's in the world and that so many things could happen to her? I watch the news with mother-eyes now and see that EVERYBODY was somebody's precious babe once. I would easily, thoughtlessly rip apart and obliterate anything or anyone that threatened her harm. I would do it unconsciously, even, more automatically than I would save myself. I would sacrifice ANYTHING for her well-being, including the entire planet, if the choice were ever mine. I would sooner suffer anything than have her suffer. And that's not altruism or selflessness at all. Truthfully, it's selfish, because if anything ever happened to her, I would be destroyed. Something bad happening to her is far, far, universes worse than something bad happening to me. I dwell on this too often.

The weird thing about my new world is that I don't mind (most of) it. In fact, I appreciate (almost) every leaking, snotty, sweaty, desperate and absurd minute. I often feel lost. But I know I am finding my way. Mothering through this anxiety and depression is by far the hardest thing I have ever done. One glance at my child, though, and I am blessed with a moment of certainty that it's all worth it. Her smiles, her coos, her hands caressing my face are the best things in the universe. Her feet, her bottom, her ears are miraculous. I never knew I could be this anxious, this happy, this exhausted, this in love.

My Dear Child:
I am a mama.

This defines me but is not all that I am.

I am also a woman.

A person.

Some mama's child.

And I need nurturing, too.

Although I love to being a mama

and motherhood often fulfills me,

It also drains me.

I cannot nurture you from a dry well.

When I don't nurture myself,

things begin to fall apart.

Relationships fail.

We all suffer.

You see,

self care is not a luxury.
Because before I can mother you,

I have to mother me.

So.

When I get overwhelmed,

in fact BEFORE I get overwhelmed,

I nurture myself

with activities I enjoy,

With friendly positive connections,

With solitude and nature.

I nurture myself by pursuing my personal passions

and by honoring my creative self,

by having fun,

by relaxing,

and by resting.

Although I strive to meet all your needs every day
…and night

Every so often, I must put my own needs first.

By insisting that self care is a priority,
by keeping it always at the top of my endless to-do list,
I am the best mama I can be.

There are many things that I consider luxuries.
Self care is not one of them.

It is precious to me…

Because I am so precious to you

Sarah Pond works part-time as an Early Childhood Development Community Facilitator and facilitates a local postpartum peer-support group in Canada called Mama2Mama. Sarah's experience with postpartum depression and anxiety began on the 3rd day after giving birth to her beautiful, healthy daughter and continued for about one year. It ultimately transformed her life for the better.