~ Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… It’s about learning to dance in the rain. ~
If you have not taken a few moments to read Bryce Dallas Howard’s piece about her experience with Postpartum Depression in the most recent GOOP newsletter, you really really should. (It’s the third section down)
Bryce shares so openly. She even includes a description about emotions felt as she watched an interview she gave while promoting a film during which she was asked about Postpartum Depression, admitting she was unable at the time to truly put into words how bad things really were.
This time around, she found her words. And folks, she doesn’t mince them or shy away from the intensity Postpartum Depression brought into her life.
One of the most powerful paragraphs Bryce penned: “It is strange for me to recall what I was like at that time. I seemed to be suffering emotional amnesia. I couldn’t genuinely cry, or laugh, or be moved by anything. For the sake of those around me, including my son, I pretended, but when I began showering again in the second week, I let loose in the privacy of the bathroom, water flowing over me as I heaved uncontrollable sobs.”
The imagery of isolation thrusts through her words, leaving no doubt to how alone Bryce felt at the depths of her struggles.
Bryce, thank you so much for your bravery. For being one of the rare celebrities to open up about this difficult path on which so many new moms find themselves.
I love, absolutely love that she also addresses the danger in not speaking up about Postpartum Depression: “Post-partum depression is hard to describe—the way the body and mind and spirit fracture and crumble in the wake of what most believe should be a celebratory time. I cringed when I watched my interview on television because of my inability to share authentically what I was going through, what so many women go through. I fear more often than not, for this reason alone, we choose silence. And the danger of being silent means only that others will suffer in silence and may never be able to feel whole because of it.”
Last but not least, I have to share my absolute favorite paragraph of her piece with you. It’s a retrospective of her experience with Postpartum Depression and speaks volumes:
“Do I wish I had never endured post-partum depression? Absolutely. But to deny the experience is to deny who I am. I still mourn the loss of what could have been, but I also feel deep gratitude for those who stood by me, for the lesson that we must never be afraid to ask for help, and for the feeling of summer that still remains.” ~Bryce Dallas Howard~
I went through a full 10 day course of Antibiotics.
The toothache calmed down.
Then the bastard had the cajones to check back in to see how things were going. Ppppth. Thoughtful but oh so not necessary.
Last Wednesday, I visited the ER in a desperate attempt to kick it’s arse.
Antibiotics and prescription pain medicine. Sweet relief, right?
This bastard was here to stay.
I spent all day Wednesday and Thursday in bed. I threw up. I managed to eat. I wanted to cling to the ceiling and never come back down.
Friday I had to force myself to help with our yard sale efforts.
By Saturday morning, I was exhausted. Yet I made it until nearly 11am until I had to call it quits and collapse into bed, once again, defeated by a tooth.
Sunday morning we skipped church. I felt great for most of the day, only taking Extra Strength Tylenol. I stayed out of bed. Finally! I had turned a corner! Hope began to creep into my heart.
By Sunday night, hope skipped town and Hell all too happily took it’s place.
Monday morning found me writhing in bed, eyes rolling into the back of my head, shuddering, clenching my hands into fists which nearly drew blood, crying out to God to make the pain stop. Even after administering the maximum dose of pain medication. I wished for unconsciousness.
My husband got on the phone with our church, the local walk-in dentist, managed to snag me an appointment with a local dentist recommended by our church later that afternoon.
By my appointment, I found myself again in the throes of wicked pain. Wicked, wicked, wicked pain. I prayed for the pain of my first labor – and that’s saying a lot – my first labor was Pit riddled with a non-working epi. Nasty stuff, people, nasty!
The dentist examined me, made a phone call, and scheduled me for extraction the next morning. He also wrote new prescriptions for me, including an anti-nausea med. God bless him.
Tuesday morning, I practically skipped over to his office to get this bad boy removed.
The dentist who extracted my tooth was amazing. Course, the Nitrous Oxide and damned fine Novocaine (which didn’t wear off for another 6 hours or so) helped.
I sit here with a gaping hole in my mouth. Sure, it hurts. A little.
What was the cost for all of this to me?
And that folks, is the miracle.
God is good.
Yes, I know it’s only Tuesday!
Is it Friday yet?
I’ll be leaving in a few minutes to finally go have an abscessed tooth removed. The prospect of a visit to the dentist office has never excited me so much before today! I have been in bed due to this tooth since last Wednesday. Like I said, rough week.
So, rather than writing a new Just Talkin’ Tuesday (which I’ve been unable to do because you see, I have been clinging to the ceiling in pain), I thought we could revisit some of the more recent posts instead.
Here are the five most recent Just Talkin’ Tuesdays. Feel free to jump in and share your thoughts on one or all of them!
Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.