Dear new mom:

During my pregnancy, I thought about postpartum depression often, knowing I was at an increased risk due to my history of depression and anxiety. I even coached my family in symptoms to watch for. In my Type A way, I expected, prepared, and felt ready for PPD. And then, when my son Jackson was born via emergency C-section after a very long labor, I completely forgot about it!

I was told and I believed, like many mothers, that my experience—extreme sleep deprivation, mood swings, sadness—was “normal” for new motherhood, like not showering! After all, I had a colicky infant who seemingly enjoyed crying more than sleeping, who hated to be put down, and who breastfed for 45 minutes every hour and a half. But what about my anger and resentment toward my husband and my roller coaster mood swings? What about the incoherent phone call I made to my mother that maybe I’d made a mistake, that I was failing as a mother because I couldn’t calm my own baby? Or the one I made to my dad, sobbing that I knew something bad—an illness or an accident—was going to happen to Jackson? My separation anxiety was so terrible that I couldn’t leave Jackson alone with anyone because of my fears. The first time my mom babysat so I could have a few hours alone, I cried hysterically and checked in constantly. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt like a failure of a mother, although on the outside I didn’t look like one.

I burst into tears at my six-week follow-up obstetrical appointment, and thank goodness I did! I was referred to a therapist who initiated cognitive behavioral therapy and reassured me that all these things I was feeling weren’t just “the baby blues,” although my experience was unfortunately common enough. That first appointment was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but also one of the best. Over time, my therapist taught me tools I continue to use to curb my anxiety, and she reassured me that I am strong enough to get through postpartum depression.

I also started asking for help from others, which was sometimes excruciating for me. I stumbled upon an online support group, called #PPDchat, on Twitter. There, women with similar stories offered virtual hugs, advice, and a safe space to talk. I kept my phone close to me, as these women inside the computer, along with therapy and family, became my lifeline. A year after my son was born, I started blogging to aid in my recovery and found there’s no shame in sharing my story. Indeed, doing so may help others.

Three years after Jackson’s birth, I’m still blogging about mental health issues and will continue to do so until the power of our storytelling eventually erodes the stigma of postpartum depression. My experience has taught me so much about the necessity of finding both my voice and a supportive community—and, most importantly, about the type of mother I am: strong, resilient, a survivor.

Just like you.

You should know how proud I am of you for being here on Postpartum Progress today. And how I have your back, just like every other writer you’re reading today. You are not alone.

I want to leave you with a quote from Brene Brown: “Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” You may not believe there is any light within you if you’re struggling with a perinatal mood disorder like postpartum depression. But I’m telling you as someone who explored the darkness, the light will emerge. I promise.

~ Jaime

Jaime is a postpartum depression and anxiety survivor. When she isn’t in a bubble bath or playing on the floor with her son, Jax, she blogs at jamesandjax.com about self-care, anxiety, and all things motherhood. You can also find her on Twitter as @jamesandjax, usually ranting about sleep deprivation.

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