This past week, I had the privilege of speaking about Perinatal Mood and Anxiety Disorders with the Moms’ weekly group I attend. It was a bit beyond my comfort zone as I am accustomed to supporting and disseminating information in cyberspace more than in person, something I hope to change.
One of the things I love about sharing information is the inevitable “me too,” which reverberates among the group, much like a pinball caught in a continuous loop in a pinball machine, refusing to exit until it has hit every available surface.
Me too.
Think about how huge that is for so many of us.
Despite the fact that up to 10% of new moms struggle with a Perinatal Mood and Anxiety Disorder, many of us don’t have the PRIVILEGE of having someone we can say “me too” with at the end of a hard day with the baby in our arms and the struggling brain in our head.
“Me too” shouldn’t be a privilege.
It’s something we should be able to say without guilt, without fear, without shame, without stigma.
I have intrusive thoughts.
Me too.
I didn’t love my baby at first sight.
Me too.
I cried all the time.
Me too.
I was inexplicably and illogically filled with rage.
Me too.
I still wonder if my baby loves me.
Me too.
I am scared to talk to my doctor about what’s wrong with me.
Me too.
I wonder if I will ever be well.
Me too.
I worry about everything and think everyone who sees me knows I am a horrible mother.
Me too.
We all have these thoughts. They’re on parade in our head on a daily basis. For me, I even went as far to keep all the blinds down in my house because I was convinced that if anyone saw in, they would know I was a horrible mother. I felt as if I were living in a fish bowl. Saying “me too” finally helped that feeling to fade and I finally allowed the sunshine into my life.
This privilege, this “me too” phenomenon, is why I started #PPDChat and why I will always listen when a mother begins to talk about the emotional roller-coaster that is motherhood. Because we ALL deserve to have someone with whom we can say, “me too.”
What’s the one thing you wish you had been able to tell someone and have them respond with “Me too?”
Tell us in the comments.
Lauren, your “me too” helped save my life. I will forever be grateful for those two little words.
(HUGS) I’m so glad. They’re powerful “little” words, aren’t they?
While I agree wholeheartedly with the power of sharing, the one thing that concerns me about the idea of “me too” is that in some respects it could diminish the severity of what someone with an perinatal mood disorder, vs. someone having a crappy day. There have been a number of times when this has happened to me and it made my recovery so much harder because I felt like I was complaining too much, making a fuss about something that everyone goes through and that the absolute hell I was feeling was somehow trivial.
Jenna,
I hear you and I am so sorry that you felt this way during your experience. Experiencing a PMAD is absolutely not trivial. It isn’t cool to diminish what someone else is feeling or to diminish the severity of their experience. What “me too” does for so many of us is equalizes us in the experience, even if we are not at the same point on the severity scale. It allows us to come together in a shared experience and relate to others who have been through similar situations even if the nuances are different for each of us. None of us have the same story or the same journey and that’s okay. What works for some doesn’t work for others at all, and that’s okay too. Lots of hugs to you and thank you for sharing your insight into why “me too” may not work and in fact, may have the opposite effect. It is greatly appreciated.
-L
this is such a good post. you always feel alone when you walk into those parent and baby groups and everyone looks so happy. even though my boy is now 2 the thought of having another one scares the life out of me but this site makes me feel that im not alone.
I am glad this site makes you feel not alone – you most certainly are not alone at all. Thank you for reading and for commenting, Leanne.
-L
I wanted to say, “I had a very traumatic birth even though it was deemed medically successful. I felt like I let my baby down by the choices I made during labor and felt his life flash before my eyes. Nursing was ridiculously difficult and I thought it was my fault. I felt like an emotionally deprived zombie that could barely function but felt like no one would understand.
Me too.
Oh, oh, oh. I still wonder every day, many times a day, if my baby loves me, if he’s bonded, if he’ll struggle when he’s older because he didn’t feel loved and protected as a baby. It keeps me up at night. It breaks my heart when he only wants daddy (even though I know it’s a good thing he feels close to his daddy). Every day I feel like a horrible mother and a failure. I need to hear me toos…
I didn’t know that I might get PPD after my miscarriage, that it wasn’t “just” grief. And then after this most recent baby, I don’t feel like I can’t bond with my baby so much as I’ve lost my bond with my 3yo. I get so angry at her sometimes, and I know that three-year-olds can be really hard, especially with a baby, but I… used to be patient. This doesn’t feel like me.
I have struggled with eating disorders since I was 12, and throughout my pregnancies.I have just started making major leaps in my recovery. I lost my first baby at 8 weeks, and I blame myself every single day, because I was struggling so much. Throughout my entire second pregnancy I expected something to happen, I was so afraid that i would never actually get to hold my breathing, healthy baby. He was born completely perfect and healthy, but i still beat myself up for not being strong enough to stop. I overcompensate in every area, and feel like I have to be perfect when I’m struggling with the eating disorder. I have panic attacks, the thought of any physical intimacy makes me sick to my stomach. Sometimes I feel like my little boy doesn’t love me, and deserves a better mom than I am able to be…
Oh mama, the shame is so awful, isn’t it? I’m so glad to hear that you have made these leaps in recovery. Keep going. Don’t let the shame win, okay? You have an illness and you are working on it. That is enough. You cannot go back and change a thing, and your little boy is here and healthy and your mind is causing you to suffer, beating you up. You do not deserve it. You are going to look back and see that it is okay. You will continue to recover with help and time and you will come to see how much that boy loves you. These babies, these kids, they are so resilient and so unconditional. He will see all the good in you, long before you do. But I hope you get there too.