Monthly Archives: February 2011

“Test Baby” Superbowl Commercial

(If you suffer from intrusive thoughts, PLEASE do not read this post as it may trigger some intense thoughts.)

A no-name internet company sponsored a Superbowl ad tonight.

The company seems to specialize in the rental of homes and condos vs. hotels for vacations. It’s an awesome concept and had it not been for their commercial tonight, I may have used them for my trip to Seattle in the fall.

Tonight’s commercial involved a family in a glass room meant to simulate a hotel room. The family had a Mom, a Dad, two older kids, and a baby. The Mom put the baby down to sleep on the end of what appeared to be a table. As the older kids pillow fight on the bed, one of them accidentally hits Dad and he falls on the table.

The baby?

Went flying across the room, into the glass wall.

The voice-over stated “test baby.”

Mom stares on in horror in the background.

The baby is clearly a doll but it blinks a couple of times once it hits the glass. And a smear is left as it slides downward.

I cannot TELL you how many times I have heard from mom after mom after mom that one of the harshest thoughts she’s had in the midst of Postpartum is that of throwing her infant across the room.

I had it. Women who have come to me for support have had that thought. Friends of mine who have struggled with PPD have had this very thought.

I am nearly three full years into recovered from my episodes with Postpartum.

This commercial?

Brought it all rushing back. Even managed to kill what little buzz I had going from the beer I treated myself to tonight.

There is no proper platform for humor about injuring a baby.

None.

Not a commercial, not a movie, not a play, none. Not even Adam Sandler or Kevin Smith could pull this crap off and get away with it.

First of all, it’s traumatizing to those of us who have struggled with intrusive thoughts as new mothers. A scene like that, unwarranted, in the middle of what should be a fun and relaxing event, can totally shut a mother down, trigger anxiety, and intrusive thoughts she then has to battle for quite some time. All in the name of making more money.

Second, infant trauma is a real problem. So is Shaken Baby Syndrome.

According to the National Center for Shaken Baby Syndrome Statistics page:

Based on a North Carolina research project published in the Journal of the American Medical Association in August of 2003, approximately 1,300 U.S. children experience severe or fatal head trauma from child abuse every year.

The same North Carolina research study revealed that approximately 30 per 100,000 children under age 1 suffered inflicted brain injuries.

Approximately 20% of cases are fatal in the first few days after injury and the majority of the survivors are left with handicaps ranging from mild – learning disorders, behavioral changes – to moderate and severe, such as profound mental and developmental retardation, paralysis, blindness, inability to eat or exist in a permanent vegetative state.

From Child Abuse Medical Diagnosis and Management by Robert Reece, M.D. – “At best estimate, one third of abusive head injury victims who develop symptoms escape without significant handicapping conditions. Many children are left with blindness, seizure disorders, profound mental retardation, spastic diplegia (paralysis of both sides) or quadriplegia (all sides). Some continue to live in a vegetative state.”

Medical costs associated with initial and long-term care for children who are victims of SBS/AHT can range from $300,000 to more than $1,000,000.

To make light of a very serious injury to an infant in order to sell product is beyond deplorable. It’s beyond despicable. It’s.. it’s… there is no word to describe the atrocity.

Not only is there the commercial, but their twitter account now links to a page encouraging you to put YOUR face on the baby. Again.. no words.

Shame on them.

Shame.

Shame on the NFL and on FOX for accepting this commercial and essentially endorsing the act of violence against an innocent infant.

NFL, FOX, and the responsible company owe us an apology. Shame.

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Faith & Motherhood: An Introduction

Good morning.

Today marks the beginning of a new Sunday Series here at My Postpartum Voice, Faith & Motherhood. I’m glad you’re here.

When I began my journey down Postpartum’s dark path, I had strayed from my faith. Little did I know that God had plans for my path through the dark woods of Postpartum. His plans ultimately brought me back to Him showing me I had not strayed nearly as far as I thought. For this, I am thankful.

Maybe some of you reading know me via Twitter. Perhaps you’ve seen me say I’ll pray for this person or that person. I mean it. I pray right then and there and add them to the daily list of things I pray about throughout my day as God speaks to me and moves me to pray.

I also believe in meeting people where they are at the moment in which they enter my life. It is not my job to judge, hate, or dismiss. As a Christian, I am to love, listen, learn, and grow in God. I believe we are all family and therefore I am to love each and every one of you as if you were my sister or brother, regardless of your current state. I do this because I know that once upon a time, God loved me regardless of my current state. Loving those around me is the least I can do in gratitude.

As I moved toward supporting new Mothers struggling with Postpartum Mood Disorders, I struggled with the question of faith’s role in my own recovery. Do I talk about it? Do I keep quiet? Do I make the meetings secular? Non-secular? How do I answer the questions about what got me through my darkest days? Do I have the meetings at a church? Will that make non-Christian women feel unwelcome? What do I do? I needed answers.

Then, as if to answer all of those questions and so much more, God put Tara Mock in my life. Tara Mock founded the website Out of the Valley Ministries, a Christian-based website for women with Postpartum Mood Disorders. Through email correspondence with Tara, the role of faith in my recovery became easier and easier to discuss with her, with others. I grew bolder and stronger.

Through Tara, I came in contact with Sue McRoberts, author of The Lifter of My Head: How God Sustained me through Postpartum Depression. She sent me her book which I devoured in a single sitting. Sue’s book is one of the only books I know of which deals directly with Postpartum depression from the Christian perspective. Sue opens up about her experience and details how her faith carried her through. If you are a Christian woman struggling with Postpartum Depression, I strongly recommend this book.

Even though God put these two amazing women in my life, I still struggled with talking about my faith once I started to blog. I have mentioned it a time or two in relation to my husband’s battle with addiction and possibly once or twice in relation to my Postpartum recovery. More and more though, I have come across blog posts from moms talking about their faith and how it relates to Postpartum Mood Disorders. They have been increasing in number. In fact, this week’s Postpartum Voice talks about faith.

I feel that it’s finally time for me to address the issue of faith and Postpartum Mood Disorders on a regular basis here at My Postpartum Voice. To continue to ignore this topic would be akin to silencing a large part of who I am. If you’re a regular reader here, you know I’m not a big fan of silencing any part of anyone.

I will be addressing the Christian faith specifically when I post. I hope to find regular contributors to share their point of view based on their faith or their culture’s faith. Faith plays a large part in many lives and therefore in many women who struggle with Postpartum Mood & Anxiety Disorders. Their faith may reject them for their struggle, judge them, play into their guilt, steer them away from valuable therapies which they need to recover, or it may be their solace. Whatever the case may be, I believe the faith aspect of Postpartum Mood & Anxiety plays a large role in a family’s recovery.

I look forward to exploring this topic with you each Sunday!

Saturday Sundries 02.05.11: Nutrition and taking Postpartum out on your husband

Hey Mamas and Dadas! How’s it going?

Hopefully your little ones let you sleep in today. If not, then my sympathies. Lots of coffee. Lots.

Our family has been taken out one by one this week with something which can only be described as a Plague from Dante’s fifth circle of Hell. It starts out with a nasty sore throat, proceeds to cold and congested status, then a cough, and then it steals your voice in the middle of the night. Oh, and while I had the girls at the Pediatricians, I was lucky enough to slam the four year old’s hand in the door of the car. Her middle finger? Broken. We had to trek (in the rain) to the hospital for x-rays. Then yesterday out to an Orthopedist 30 minutes away. Trying to drive a car with a gabby four year old in the backseat whilst fighting off the Black Plague should be an Olympic Sport. Turns out her finger is barely broken and we only have to tape it together for two weeks. In three weeks, we go back for a re-check to make sure things have healed properly. Here’s to hoping.

We have humidifiers going, homeopathic cough and cold medicine, Dayquil and Nyquil for us big people, OJ, chicken noodle soup, and rest. Lots of rest. Thanking God for Netflix.

If my kids aren’t well enough to go back to school on Monday, I’m going to Lowe’s to buy what I need to build them their own bubbles. They can go in bubbles, right? Right?

Enough about my family’s close brush with the Plague.

This week, I only got one question for today. The second question is from a statements/concerns from search terms for my blog. They seem to crop up quite often so I wanted to bring them to light and share them with y’all. I had plans to do more than just one but I’m flat worn out from this past week.

Enjoy today’s Saturday Sundries!

1) @Granolamom asked about using Vitamin D to ward off Postpartum Depression. I took the question to the most knowledgeable person I know when it comes to Postpartum and Nutrition, Cheryl Jazzar. Her website is linked at the end of the post. In the interest of full disclosure, I have not received any compensation for linking to it. And as always, if you are already under the care of a physician, check with him/her prior to discontinuing any current treatments and/or introducing any new therapies.

 

Thanks for this interesting question! The use of vitamins for perinatal mood and anxiety issues is becoming very popular. As with any treatment options, it is important NOT to self-treat. Having support and guidance from a professional can prove invaluable. There are many different types of care providers out there, including those who can help with non-pharmacological options.

First, using nutrition for mental health challenges is a strongly emerging treatment for a reason: there is a great deal of scientific data to support it’s use. The problem with scientific data is similar to the problem of using one supplement to help with symptoms: one ‘ingredient’ usually doesn’t work for either symptom control or data collection!

Many women find a great deal of symptom relief by using a few different things together, depending on their presenting symptoms. Typically the same things that new mothers are lacking are the same things curiously absent from prenatal vitamins- things like calcium and magnesium. Some women have a higher need for stress-busting b vitamins; and some have a need for natural progesterone cream. Normally these moms are suffering with a more severe anxiety reaction and they could be high in postpartum copper stores. In these cases, specific trace minerals also play a part in healing.

The good news is that nutritive approaches can work very quickly! This was the case for me when I suffered a severe, lethargic postpartum depression 13 years ago. I was guided in using nutrition by my mentor, Sheryl Cozad of Postpartum Support International and significant relief came so fast I thought it was a placebo effect! Years later I was visiting with a world-famous perinatal mental health expert who said her patients mood symptoms turn around dramatically using supplements, too.

The short answer is, yes, vitamin D is a fantastic element to get more of at any phase of life. However, most postpartum moms are so deficient in so many different vitamins (according to the USDA), that a deeper look with a qualified practitioner can yield quick, lasting results.

 

Cheryl Jazzar, founder of WellPostpartum Consulting, has provided support and encouragement to thousands of women suffering with postpartum depression and related issues.

2) Why am I taking my postpartum out on my husband?

Ever been to the beach? I ask because going to the beach sounds awesome in the middle of February. Unless it’s a beach in the northern part of the US in which case you’ll freeze your bum right off. But I’ve digressed.

So.. let’s say it’s a warm summer day. You pack up the kiddos to go to the beach. Lunch, towels, sunscreen, you’ve got everything. Everyone goes and has a blast. You shower off before you come home. Shower again when you get home. Cook dinner, hang out, put the kiddos to bed. Then you and the hubster cuddle to watch a movie. About thirty minutes into the movie, you start to squirm. There’s something stuck down THERE. It’s uncomfortable. Begins to burn. You can’t shift into a comfortable position. You go to the restroom to try to see if it’s your underwear or toilet paper. Then it hits you – it’s a piece of sand. So you hop into the shower and try to get it rinsed out. But you can’t. It’s stuck. It’s not going anywhere. You go back to the living room. There’s your husband, conked out in the chair. HE’s not dealing with this sand in his vag issue, now is he? Nope. He’s all comfortable and drifting off into la-la-land. You? Want to smack him clear to Beijing. But you can’t because it’s illegal. And mean. So instead you do a few deep squats and jiggles. Take a bath. Eventually the sand dislodges and it’s a distant memory.

Postpartum is that damned piece of sand. It gets lodged in your mind though instead of your vag. You find yourself stuck in a whirlwind, crap flying at you from every direction while your husband seemingly sits in his recliner, completely un-phased by your discomfort and struggles. He’s not doing enough to help with the baby. Where the hell was HE at 2am this morning anyway as you tried to nurse/feed Jr back to bed for what felt like the billionth time in three hours? Asleep. In bed.

Often times, when we are hurting, we lash at those closest to us. Why? Because they are there. We want them to catch us when we fall. Thing is, if we push them too hard, they’ll fall right along with us and won’t be able to or want to catch us. When loved ones react negatively to our behaviour as we fall into a mental illness, it is often hard for us to handle. We react negatively as well, not because we mean to – but because it’s a natural reaction. Not logical, but natural. When mental illness surrounds us, it’s as if we are lost in a dense fog or deep jungle. We have to fight to get out. Sometimes, our loved ones get in our path.

I had tremendous arguments and fights with my husband when I was in the middle of my own episodes with Postpartum OCD. We yelled and screamed at each other. Often, I assumed he would know just what to do – that he could read my mind. When he didn’t do what I had not communicated to him needed to be done, I got angry. But it wasn’t his fault. I also became terribly jealous that he got to go to work every day and spend time with adults. He got out of the house. I was stuck at home with an infant.

Turns out he was jealous of me. I got to stay home with our daughters and watch them grow up. I didn’t see it as spectacular. For me, it was torture. Our communication had completely failed. We were totally jealous of each other, not sleeping, frustrated, angry, and as a result, had become very short with each other. It sucked.

So many postpartum women report issues with their husband as part of what is going on. He doesn’t know what you’re going through. It’s hard for him to relate, hard for him to support you when he doesn’t understand. Take him to the doctor with you. Have them talk with him about his part in your recovery – how he is an integral part of the equation to heal his family. You have to be willing to work too though. Anger is a two way street. BOTH of you have to agree that it’s closed. It’s okay to disagree and have a rational discussion about what’s going on – but rage and tantrumming is not cool. At all.

If you find yourself angry at your husband – start asking yourself why you’re mad at him. Walk away if you have to. Breathe. When you go back, talk with him calmly.

I’ve found the following formula very useful:

“When “x” happens, it makes me feel like “X.” How can WE fix this?”

This approach does two things. One, it doesn’t accuse him of anything. It’s non-attacking. Two – it presents a problem/issue which he can then help solve, creating a teamwork atmosphere. It takes a bit of practice, a lot of compromise on both parts, and time to get back to a place in which you don’t hate him. But eventually you’ll get there if both of you are dedicated to making things work.

 

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Postpartum Voice of the Week: 02.03.11: Searching for Hope

The following piece is an original story which was submitted for consideration. The author takes you from one of the darkest places she has ever been in to a place in which she offers hope to others. She’s still struggling in the midst of it all but thankfully has hope on her team these days. Without further ado, I give you this week’s Postpartum Voice of the Week:

 

I didn’t have a “mom” growing up. I had no one to teach me right from wrong, no one to talk to, no one to look up to. My mom was physically there, just enough to scrape by with the title of “mom.” When I needed her to get through some of the darkest times of my life, she wasn’t around. I was so miserable having someone who was supposed to be there, but who wasn’t. I had promised myself that I would be the mother to my kids that I never had.

The time came for me to be mom when my first child was born in 2008. I was overjoyed, ecstatic, blessed to have such a title and to give everything I had to this little baby. We welcomed his younger sister into our family in early 2010, and with that, our family was complete. I was ready to raise these children in a family full of love and be the best mom I could possibly be. I was meant to be a mom, it was the only aspiration I ever had.

Having had a difficult childhood myself, I knew the face of depression. I understood feelings of being worthless, hopeless, and simply not good enough. What I didn’t know was that these feelings could accompany the birth of a child. After my daughter was born, things gradually started getting worse. I would become irritable with every cry, angry every time a bottle wouldn’t soothe my crying little one, and just hostile when things weren’t going the way I had planned. Six months had gone by; I had brushed the feelings off my shoulder as if they were “normal.” I had 2 kids under 2, things were supposed to be hectic, right? Running on very little sleep, being needed by two kids simultaneously with only 2 hands was enough to make any mom a little discouraged when things were rough and there was no help in sight.

Six months postpartum, I had noticed I wasn’t getting better. The irritability was at its worst, I had those same feelings of worthlessness that I had once experienced, I had no desire to take care of my kids, I had no desire to even take care of myself at this point. I let all the housework go, I cried at the drop of a hat even when I had no logical reason for crying, I started spending more time in bed, and nothing seemed worth it anymore. I had awful thoughts of leaving my children, my family, and never looking back. I just didn’t want anything. I felt like a failure; I wasn’t even good at what I wanted to be for so long…a mom. My children didn’t deserve me anymore. I kept thinking of my mom, and how there were times I wished she weren’t around-that she weren’t my mom. I didn’t want my kids to grow up wishing I wasn’t their mom or that I wasn’t around because I was a spitting image of my own mother. I thought taking myself out of the equation was the best decision for my family. I whole-heartedly believed someone could do my job better.

No matter how much I wanted to in that moment, I couldn’t ever leave my children. Ever. I knew something was wrong, and I needed help immediately before such irrational thoughts became my reality. I asked my husband to drive me to the hospital, that it was an emergency. He really had no idea what was going on, my feelings were kept to myself because I didn’t want anyone to think bad of me or that I was a bad mom for having such thoughts. After being evaluated for an hour, I wanted to walk right back out the doors I walked in. I was scared; there was no way I belonged there. Seeing other patients walk the halls with their head down, the screams that came from rooms down the hall that warranted a handful of doctors to hurry off, I knew this was a mistake. My anxiety was too much for me to handle at this point. The evaluating nurse asked me many questions that left me with feelings of shame. How could I have such deep, dark feelings when I have two beautiful children at home needing me? Needless to say, I was admitted. There was no turning back, I was there and there was no way out. Although I knew this wasn’t the right place for me, I made the decision to get everything I possibly could out of this hospital stay. I told the numerous psychiatrists and therapists I saw on a daily basis exactly how I felt, why I was there, and let them in on my life (which is something I don’t do until I have full trust in a person). Against medication from the beginning, I openly tried whatever meds they wanted to put me on because I was desperate to get better. I was diagnosed with PPD/PPA/PPOCD. What was that? I had no clue there was such a diagnosis. I was never talked to about this. After nearly a week of being there, I was released…sent on my way. I had the number to a psychiatrist and a therapist whom I was instructed to follow up with. I did just that. The psychiatrist changed my meds completely, and it was only weeks before I started to really see an improvement in my behavior. I’m still working on finding the right combination of meds to keep me stable, and we’ll go from there.

What I can tell you is that I now have hope that things will get better. If someone would have told me something, anything, about PPD ten months ago, I wouldn’t have hit rock bottom before reaching out for help. I wouldn’t have gone through four months of absolute misery thinking of how bad a parent I was and how guilty I felt that I couldn’t take care of my own children. I saw multiple healthcare professionals during my months postpartum- the OBGYN, my family doctor, my children’s doctor, nurses at hospitals when my kids were sick, yet no one ever asked me how I felt emotionally. I was too afraid to bring up my feelings, fearing they would tell me it was all normal and I was worrying too much. I almost took my life because I thought I had ruined not only myself, but my children. I almost walked out on the two most important people in my life because I thought I was crazy. The fear of admitting the awful thoughts I had was bizarre. I believed people would immediately think I was “crazy” or “undeserving” of my children. But I reached out. I took control of my own behavior. I waited too long hoping that someone would help me. I waited too long thinking I would eventually get better on my own. I waited too long to take this illness by the horns and control my own destiny. I wanted to get better so bad for my children, for my family. However, it took me wanting to get better for MYSELF before I had the courage to do so, to reach out and put myself and my feelings out there into the hands of people who have the control and the knowledge to help me. My biggest motivation was the thought of having to live the next day as miserable as the day before. Things needed to change.

These postpartum mood disorders have me in check. Every time a thought passes through my head that I have conquered this beast, I am made aware that I am still on my journey to recovery. I am, by no means, fully recovered from PPD/PPA/PPOCD, but it no longer controls me. I control it.

As awful as this journey has been, I have become a better person because of it. I have learned to cherish every moment with my children, from the sleepless nights to the temper tantrums. I have learned to appreciate things for what they are, rather than what I want them to be. Most importantly, I have learned that even in the late hours of the night, or on my darkest days, I am stronger than I think I am. I can get through the bad things, and things will get better. There is hope, and that’s what keeps me going…

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