Ladies!
Given you were the only two to comment on last week’s giveaway, I’ve decided to send both of you a copy of Pregnant on Prozac by Shoshana Bennett.
Please email me @ mypostpartumvoice (@) gmail dot com with your addresses. The books will ship by the end of this week!
Congratulations!
Today is the National Day of Encouragement.
Around here, we’re big on encouragement and support. Yesterday, I received an email from Jenn over at Connected Mom. She’s got this amazing project going on right now that I really wanted to highlight today. It’s the Stronger Together Online Quilt Project. Jennifer is focusing on Birth Trauma, Birth Disappointment, and PPD Awareness. You can get the specs by visiting Jenn’s blog, The Connected Mom. There is no deadline for submissions and Jennifer is hoping this project will eventually have it’s own corner of the web to call home. So spread the word!
I’ll be participating. Will you?
Nine years ago, our lives forever changed as Americans. Generations who had only known peace suddenly had their world yanked out from beneath them. Yet at the same time, the fabric of the spirit of America was forever strengthened as those who lost their lives ultimately showed true courage and patriotism as they struggled to save the lives of so many. Pause today. Wherever you may be, pause. Reflect. Remember. Never ever forget the tragedies of today. Never forget the eerie silence as every single plane landed and no longer flew free through the skies. Never forget the lives and families of those who were lost and torn apart. And may the American spirit of courage always live within your heart just as it did in so many that day. May we all be blessed with such courageous tenacity when faced with desperate tragedy. God Bless America.
Earlier today, someone I follow on Twitter tweeted about the cost of Postpartum Depression.
She stated: “Researcher asked me how much PPD “costs” & I can’t find figure anywhere. Surely, there is a $ amount. #ppd #postpartum.”
My response: What does she mean by how much does it “cost” In terms of what? Treatment? Time lost to illness? Memories lost?
There are some things #Postpartum steals from you on which you cannot put a price.
Her: @unxpctdblessing that is so true. She’s a researcher and is studying that which is measurable. So much can not be measured.
Me: I suppose she could create a hypothetical woman and start by pricing various antidepressants, typical co-pays or out of pocket.
Her: @unxpctdblessing well, all of those are real costs but she’s talking about financial cost in terms of health care, lost work, etc.
Me: I have no idea where you would get those numbers. It would depend on so many things from woman to woman.
Her: very interesting research study! We’ve been using a spectrum approach to talk about the #postpartum period. Thanks for the thoughts! I’ll pass them on!
This conversation took place nearly 5 hours ago. I’ve been consumed with it ever since.
How on earth do you put a price on Postpartum Mood Disorders?
Sure, you can talk about financial cost in terms of health care, lost work, etc. But what about the emotional cost? The lost and missed memories? The heartache and damage it does to marriage, to bonding with your infant, to the anxiety which comes storming into your life as a result? What about the cost of a divorce or family estrangement as a result? Do you measure that with legal costs? How do you put a price on someone’s mental health? Someone’s heart? Someone’s love and life?
My Postpartum Mood Disorders?
Nearly destroyed my marriage.
Severely affected my bond with my two daughters.
Cost me enjoying the infancy of my two daughters which fed into anger during my son’s infancy because I was able to enjoy his.
Missed several family events, etc, because of anxiety/paranoia, breakdown.
Therapy for over a year.
Medication for over two years.
Fed into antepartum depression.
Stole nearly three full years of my life.
How on earth do you put a price on all of that? I know I can’t. I don’t even know where to start. Frankly, there is no number big enough to cover everything I lost during the three years of the first years of my motherhood. No number.