Category Archives: Just Talkin Tuesday

Just Talkin’ Tuesday 05.04.10: Did your Postpartum influence your decision about Breast or Bottle?

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A lot of bloggers have been talking about mom guilt lately. I even threw my hat in the ring.

Anyone who has talked with me for any amount of time knows full well I am fully supportive of moms no matter what decisions they have made in their own lives. As mothers, it is part of our job to make the best decisions we are capable of making for our family. And we should absolutely not be judged for these decisions. It’s a shame that we have to put a disclaimer before discussing any aspect of motherhood for fear of offending a mother who may have made a different choice.

Growing up, I remember my mom nursing my brothers. Breastfeeding is how I was raised. I knew no different. For me, breastfeeding was akin to breathing. It was just something you did when you had a baby. When I got pregnant, I would breastfeed my daughter too. Failure never occurred to me as a possibility. The first full day after birth, she wouldn’t latch. We went home without having gotten it right. I gave formula the first night. I was failing. Scared, failing, what the hell? My mom had made everything look so easy. It was supposed to be easy! Why was I having such a hard time??? The next morning we got up and I was determined to get her to latch. She did and off we went into the breastfeeding sunset. 16 whole months of nursing with self-weaning two weeks before discovery of our second pregnancy. I had done it right! It had been one of the few things I had felt I had managed to get right about Motherhood.

Fast forward to 36 and a half weeks pregnant later. After a long labor, our second daughter was born. She too, would not latch. I thought her mouth didn’t look right but I was tired. Blamed it on the exhaustion. This time around I asked for an IBCLC. She immediately swept baby’s mouth with a gloved finger and diagnosed a cleft palate. My world turned upside down. I met a hospital grade pump that night. Barely got anything. Wondered why I was bothering to pump. But I kept with it, pumping at home, at the hospital, stashing breastmilk in the freezer, the fridge, feeding it to my daughter through her Kangaroo pump. Managed to keep it up for seven whole months before it came down to my daughter receiving breastmilk or my family and my mental health. I bought formula and cried the whole way home from the store. But that decision saved me, saved my relationship with my family. I was grateful formula existed.

A little over a year later would find me surprised and pregnant once again. I was scared. But I now knew formula was ok. I still tried to breastfeed. Our son latched on like a champ right after delivery. Nursed wonderfully, even through three bouts of thrush. But at 6 months, he was diagnosed as failure to thrive. He was born at 8lbs 15oz and had barely gained 3 lbs in the first six months of life. Our well-meaning pediatrician suggested I pump. I wanted to laugh. I was SO not going back down that road! After a day of contemplation, off I went to buy formula. He switched rather easily and was completely on formula by the end of the week, gaining weight, happy, not fussy, and we were all much healthier mentally as well.

There are women out there who will tell you that breastfeeding protects against depression because of the production of Oxytocin, the “cuddle” hormone. Then there are those who will tell you formula feeding will help you get more rest. So will pumping and having enough in the fridge/freezer for a bottle in the middle of the night. But then you risk not nursing at that time and killing your supply. But I say if you can do it and not risk your supply – go for it.

Bottom line here?

YOU have to do what is best for you. And if that means a balance of breastmilk and formula or only one or the other then SO be it. If someone giving baby a bottle of formula at night helps you sleep and recover, then go for it. If breastfeeding makes you smile and helps you feel like more of a mother, then so be it. No apologies, no looking back. Be bold, make the decision, and go with it. It is possible to continue to nurse with anti-depressants. If you choose to do so, make sure your prescribing doctor knows you are nursing and let your pediatrician know as well so both doctors can minimize any potential side effects. Ask questions. Get answers. Make an educated decision.

Now that I’ve stepped off my soap box, it’s your turn. Did your Postpartum Mood Disorder change your plans for feeding your infant? Did you give formula instead of nurse? Choose to nurse instead of formula to help ward off Postpartum Depression? Why? Would you do things any differently knowing what you know now? Why? Why not?Do you regret your decision?

Let’s get to Just Talkin’ Tuesday.

Just Talkin’ Tuesday 04.27.10: How much of your Postpartum story will you share with your kids?

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Six years ago when I became a mom for the first time, my mind was certainly not thinking about a Postpartum Mood Disorder. And I was certainly not thinking about having to discuss it with my newborn daughter when her sister and brother were born. Yet there I was – staring down delivery for the third time and the very real possibility of relapsing- and I had these two darling little girls depending on me. Suddenly it wasn’t about me anymore. It was about them. About their security, their safety, their happiness, the very stability of their world depended on how my husband and I explained the possibility of mommy experiencing a Postpartum Mood Disorder.

We did not talk about it a lot when our second daughter was born. At least I don’t remember talking about it a lot. I may have mentioned something briefly but at that point, I hadn’t become an advocate or blogger. I had not educated myself as much as I had by the time my pregnancy with our son. I had not come to embrace the realization that Postpartum Mood Disorder affects the whole family. Once I embraced that fact, I realized there was no way I could avoid having a discussion with our daughters. I should also say that our oldest daughter really saw a lot of strife she shouldn’t have with that second episode of Postpartum. My husband and I would yell and scream at each other with her just in the other room. We were both frustrated, scared, and really not putting ourselves first at all. Postpartum will do that to you – completely consume you if you allow it to do so. Our communication had hopelessly broken down by the time our second daughter came home from the hospital.

Somewhere in the second trimester of my third pregnancy, my husband and I began to talk with our daughters about Postpartum Mood Disorders. We did not use big clinical words even though we don’t believe in baby talking the kids.

We told them that sometimes, after moms have babies, they get sad. And sometimes they get angry. But it’s not the mommy’s fault. Not the daddy’s fault, not the baby’s fault and not the big brother or big sister’s fault. That it just happens. And if it does happen, mom goes to a doctor to talk about what’s going on so she can get help and get better.

Then we brainstormed ways they could help mommy if she got angry or sad after she had baby.

My favorite response was from our oldest: “I could make you happy by tickling you so you’ll laugh.”

That’s my girl – curing Postpartum Mood Disorders one tickle at a time!

I’ve since talked with the girls about what I do and why I spend time on the computer and the phone. I remind them about how some mommies get angry or sad after having babies. And then I tell them that mommy makes herself available to these mommies so they don’t have to be sad or angry alone. I tell them that mommy helps these mommies find the help they need to get better so they can be happy with themselves and with their families. They both seem to understand very well what mommy does and appreciate it.

Making the decision to share my postpartum journey with my kids was not easy. But given my history and the high chance of relapse, we felt we had to share with them what may happen after their brother was born. One day I may share with them this website and let them read everything that happened. I’ll answer any questions they may have. It’s important to me they understand that there is no shame in any kind of mental illness. But until they are much older, I don’t feel they need to know very much. I certainly don’t regret having shared with them what I have thus far. For me, sharing with my kids will be showing them that it is possible to get through the toughest parts of life. I sincerely hope the phrase “I give up” is never in their vocabulary.

So let’s get to just talking. Will you ever share your Postpartum Story with your child? Have you already shared with your son or daughter? What did you tell them? Will you tell them the whole story or just bits and pieces? Why would you tell them your story? Why would you choose not to tell them if that’s your decision?

Let’s get to just talking!

Just Talkin’ Tuesday: Did your birth story affect the development of your Postpartum Mood Disorder?

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When I saw my very first positive pregnancy test, I wasn’t thinking about labor. I wasn’t thinking about birth. I certainly wasn’t thinking about the major depressive episode awaiting me at the end of the journey. I was just thinking about the awesome little life growing inside of me. The second time around though, after a tough delivery and a life lesson in what the birds and bees really do talk about, I cringed. My first thought? Oh crap. There’s a baby in there. And it’s got to come out somehow. I ended up with another spontaneous vaginal delivery with our second daughter. This delivery, although labor was nearly tripled, went much smoother. The trauma came 30 minutes after birth when she was diagnosed with a cleft palate. I ended up with a nasty nasty episode of postpartum depression. The third time around I also had a vaginal delivery but it was induced because I was measuring 2wks ahead of schedule. Amnio showed lung maturity and my pelvis (god bless it) had become so loose I could barely walk without wincing in pain every time I took a step. We were ready. This delivery was short, sweet, and outcome was much better. I also didn’t experience postpartum after my third birth.

With my first birth, I did not take a childbirth class. I didn’t with my second or third either but by then, I had been through it, done research, explored a few options, knew my body was capable of birth, and learned to trust myself and not rely on medical intervention. I was also much more capable of advocating for myself in the delivery room. I went in with what I call a flexible birth plan because I knew how fluid birth could be and did not want to be unprepared for any possibility after my first delivery at which I was pumped full of Pitocin and stuck in a hospital bed for the entire labor. I opted for an epidural with all three births. My first birth was the toughest – Pitocin contractions on top of one another for nearly 8 hours straight with a one-sided epidural the anesthesiologist tried to place 7X during transitional labor. Ever tried to sit still during transitional labor? Yeh. I’m SO not one of those women who can do that. So the second time around, I had my birth plan. The biggest thing was not to be offered any kind of pain medication. I’d ask if I needed it. And I asked at just over 24 hours of labor. Tired, exhausted, no end in sight (my water hadn’t even broken yet), I needed rest. But I did it on my terms. The third time around I got a little irked at the midwife nurse at my birth. I went in with the same birth plan. I asked for pain meds and she attempted to talk me out of it. I understand the desire to have an unmedicated birth. A woman has a right to the kind of birth she wants even if we don’t agree with it. As long as she’s making those decisions in an educated manner, let the woman have what she wants.  A woman absolutely should not be judged for her choices at birth. Instead, we should try to understand the choices and enable her to make educated decisions in the future. I advocated for myself and ended up having a great birth experience even if she was disappointed in my ability not to go au natural. Looking back, I probably should have asked for another nurse. But hey, it is what it is and my third birth ended up being my best experience overall.

For today’s Just Talkin’ Tuesday, I would really like to explore your birth story. Was your birth what you expected? Did you have a birth plan? What kind of birth did you have? Research has shown repeatedly that c-section mamas are more likely to develop a postpartum mood disorder. And with the soaring c/s rates here in the US, I have to wonder if perhaps that is why there are more mamas struggling with emotional adjustment after birth. Although there are plenty of mamas out there who gave birth at home with no medical intervention who also struggle with postpartum mood disorders so maybe that’s a non-issue altogether. Overall though, do you feel your birth experience impacted your development of a postpartum mood disorder? Or did the Postpartum Mood Disorder just happen? And if your birth experience negatively impacted your development of a postpartum mood disorder and you went on to have more children, did you opt for a different type of birth? Do you feel changing your birth choice have an impact on whether or not you developed a Postpartum Mood Disorder? If you haven’t had any subsequent pregnancies, will you change your approach toward birthing as a result of your experience with Postpartum Depression if any more children are planned?

I know those are tough questions but it’s what I’m wondering today. So let’s get to Just Talkin’, shall we?

Just Talkin’ Tuesday 11.17.09: When did your fog lift?

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base photo credit "water droplet with fall reflection" by mahalie @ flickr

All the cliches you hear about not being happy are profoundly true. The grass is a dull shade of green – khaki almost, for me at least. The trees filled with sorrow, the birds didn’t chirp as cheerily, the leaves waved as if mourning, the air filled with the weight of the entire world as the clouds swooped down and swarmed around my mind, fogging my vision of anything in front of me. My grandfather called those infamous fogs “pea souppers.”

I remember the day my Pea Soupper existance finally lifted. It was a bright spring day. The trees stood ready to burst forth brand new leaves still wrapped tightly in buds, rain had rushed through – not drenched us but rather left just enough behind for everything to sparkle a bit. I can still smell the rain of that day if I close my eyes and think long enough. THIS is the day I want to hold close to my heart forever when I think of my PPD.

Sure, I remember the bad stuff. I remember the cold sleep room where I first checked out. I remember all too well the smell of the soap from the NICU. I remember the cold hard plastic and mechanical whirring of my breast pump, the flat pillow at the psych ward. But when I think of my PPD, I want to remember that spring day. The day that not only Mother Nature birthed yet another child of spring but I found myself reborn as a complete person – myself and motherhood all rolled into one – ready to take on the very world which waited at my feet. Had it still been raining I may have pulled over and danced a little jig.

So tell us – when did your fog lift?

Let’s get to just talkin’.

 

Just Talkin’ Tuesday 10.27.09: What’s YOUR Postpartum Mood Disorder Story?

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women talking in sunset

Original Photo taken by tranchis @ flickr

This site was started to help me re-frame an unexpected pregnancy after two rather nasty experiences with Postpartum OCD. Turns out that by doing so I not only helped myself but managed to help a lot of other women along the way.

There was a point during my suffering when I dreaded having to retell my story. Looking back I should have just typed the whole thing up and kept copies on hand – kind of like a resume. (Hey – not a bad idea if you end up having to hunt for a decent doctor!) But there came a turning point where my story began to foster a sense of strength and self. Finally I began to bloom.

We’re all at different points on our journey. Some of us are right in the thick of it, some of us a bit further out, others are fully recovered, some have relapsed and are struggling right back out thanks to the path we carved out the last time we fell down. But we are all in it together.

Rather than retype my entire story here (cuz that would take some time!), you can click here to read about “The Day” I was admitted to psych ward. And if you’re brave enough (ie, preferably not in the thick of it or relapsed) you can read another piece I’ve written here about some of the thoughts I had when things were so dark I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face.

For me and for many others, telling our story or even venting has become a powerful source of personal therapy. It’s a way to just get some of the stress out of our body, our mind, and even possibly work through issues.

So let’s get to just talkin’ here. I want to hear your stories. I want to know what you’ve gone through/are going through. Speak up. We’re here to be supportive, compassionate, and lend our hearts.

I can’t wait to read what you have to share!