Category Archives: postpartum depression

A Note about #PPDChat today

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For those of you who regularly participate in #PPDChat at Twitter, there is the possibility of a technical difficulty with the 1pm chat today.

I’ve already seen my buddy Mr. Fail Whale (ie, the Whale that shows up when Twitter is Over Capacity) twice this morning. According to Twitter, “We’re seeing periodic high rates of errors on Twitter.”

As of right now, chat is scheduled as planned at 1pm. IF for some reason, Twitter goes down and we are unable to chat, please email me at ppdacceptance(@)gmail.com for an alternative chat site. And of course, there is chat again tonight at 830p EST. Hopefully Twitter will no longer be seeing high error rates this evening.

Can Kangaroo Care prevent Postpartum Depression?

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I’m sharing today’s blog post with you as part of Science & Sensibility and Giving Birth with Confidence’s Blogging Carnival. This year’s theme focuses on “Keeping Mothers and babies together after birth.” In keeping with this theme, I want to focus on the influence Kangaroo Care can have on the prevention/relief of Postpartum Depression. If you’re here from the Carnival, welcome. If you’re a regular reader – enjoy! Either way, thrilled to have you here.

When I first became a mother, I had  never heard about Kangaroo Care. My daughter, however, liked to be held next to my chest, resting her head on my bare skin as she slept when she was not nursing. Not officially Kangaroo Care but we made do with what worked. To this day, she still likes to snuggle with me.

Kangaroo Mother Care is when a human mother and her infant snuggle skin to skin with the infant lying prone on mom’s chest. It’s a term coined after the Kangaroo’s close relationship with her little joey who doesn’t come out of mom’s pouch for four months after birth. Instead, joey relies on mom’s warmth, nutrition, and support for his “fourth” trimester. More often than not by those in the birthing realm, the first few months of a human’s life are now called the “fourth” trimester as well. Research has concluded over and over again that Kangaroo Care is invaluable for both human moms and babies as well.

In 2007 a study published in the Oxford Tropical Pediatrics from researchers at the Instituto Materno Infantil in Brazil concluded Kangaroo Mother Care may prove helpful in warding off postpartum depression. Researchers evaluated mothers at the beginning of NICU care and at the end of their Kangaroo Mother Care. NO mother developed depression during their Kangaroo stay. Let me say that again. NO MOTHER developed depression during their Kangaroo stay.

WHO, the World Health Organization, also offers an article regarding Kangaroo Care in the early months of infancy. Their article focuses on the bonding and encouragement of breastfeeding that Kangaroo Care provides. Many of the after-birth procedures and examinations can take place while baby is on Mom’s stomach in the prone position thereby improving chances of maternal and infant bonding.

A new Mother-to-Infant Bonding Scale included in a 2006 study compared the score of the Mother-to-Infant Bonding Scale to Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale. Women who scored lower on the MIB Scale scored higher on the EPDS and vice versa.

One of the perks of Kangaroo Care is the increased production of Oxytocin initiated through skin-to-skin contact with an infant. Oxytocin is known as the “cuddle” or “love hormone and may help new mothers ward off severe episodes of Postpartum Depression. This is an extremely compelling reason to encourage hospitals to encourage the practices of rooming in and immediate after birth examinations while baby is on Mom’s tummy or chest. The first few hours of life are extremely important to successful bonding and nursing. If mother and child are separated, the risk of failure for bonding and successful breastfeeding may decrease.

There’s also another personal story proving the very value of Kangaroo Mother Care. Carolyn Isbister, a mom out of Edinburgh, saved her infant’s life with a Kangaroo Cuddle. Her little one had been given up on by doctors. Carolyn cuddled with her infant to say goodbye. She and her husband watched as their daughter’s breathing and heart beats regulated. They watched as she went from grey to pink. Carolyn’s little girl is now healthy and home, thanks to Kangaroo Mother Care.

One of the calmest moments I had in the midst of my own downward spiral was as I sat with Charlotte snuggled up on my chest. We were in the middle of the NICU, beeps and boops all around us. The fragility of life hung heavy in the air. Her many wires, tubes, and other non-baby items draped across me as well. But all that mattered was her soft warm head resting peacefully under my chin, her breath caressing my chest. I wrapped my arms as tightly as I dared around her tiny body and closed my eyes. This was a moment in which I wanted to get lost. I wasn’t experiencing many of those at the time. Time stopped as we stepped out of the NICU and into our own little world for a bit. Even as I type this I can still smell her fresh baby scent and feel the weight of her little body curled up on my chest. It is a moment I will always cherish and never forget. My eye in the midst of a hurricane from hell.

I also felt soothed when I held our first daughter skin-to-skin even though I did not know the  technical term for our action at the time. Our son was a natural snuggler as well. With him, I did not experience Postpartum Depression. Our skin to skin contact was not much higher than with the other two but it was much higher than my skin to skin contact with Charlotte. After I had Charlotte I was hospitalized for severe PPD & PP OCD, a very scary time in my life.

If you’re a new mom struggling with bonding with your new infant, please try Kangaroo Mother Care. It’s free, it’s easy (mostly naked baby, mostly topless parent) and it does wonders.

Looking back, I wish I had insisted my children stay with me instead of letting them be sent away. Our second daughter’s absence was a medical necessity but with the other two it was not. Keeping your infant with you, on your skin, and allowing your relationship to develop naturally may just be the ticket you need to help ward off a severe case of Postpartum Depression. Some women may do Kangaroo Care and develop Postpartum Depression despite their dedication to skin to skin contact. If this happens, please know you are not alone. Be sure to ask for a thyroid and anemia levels test when talking with your doctor or midwife. And be sure to reach out for help from a mental health professional if you need it. There’s no shame in going to therapy. None.

Even if you are not feeling up to it now, one day, you will mother with confidence, you may even birth with confidence again. But know there are mothers who have been where you are right now and are willing to hold their hands back for you to cling on to – with confidence they will carry you out of the deep dark place you are now trapped within.

Want to read more about the Lamaze International View on Keeping Mother & Baby together? You’re in luck. You can do so right here.

Postpartum Voice of the Week: The Outdoor Wife speaks up about Postpartum Depression

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There has been some recent chatter between bloggers about Postpartum Depression. The focus? Whether or not some Mommy bloggers really do have a Postpartum Mood Disorder or if they were clambering onto the newest “trendy” wagon. (This should explain my post, “Are PMD’s the new Jimmy Chu’s?”) A few other bloggers have also chimed in on this topic. Of all the responses I read, the one by The Outdoor Wife struck a chord with me, which is why I have chosen her as this week’s Postpartum Voice.

The Outdoor Wife does not usually blog about Postpartum Depression. In fact, when she was struggling, she barely told anyone about the battle she fought. Her response is absolutely amazing and worth the read. Not only does she describe her experience but she includes tips on what you can do to help someone going through Postpartum Depression. Thank you, for chiming in on such an important subject!

Here’s a snippet of her post. You can continue reading by going here.

Now, I’ll offer what I know to be true in my own personal experience:

One of, if not the most overwhelming, feeling that comes with PPD is guilt. It’s perpetuated by the lack of sleep, irritability, loss of interest in favorite activities, detachment from the child, feelings of hopelessness and just general sadness. In my own experience, I wasn’t over-the-moon happy when Rowan was first born. In my mind, I believed I should have been… so the guilt crept in. Before I knew it, it had me completely incapacitated with irrational feelings of worthlessness. This led to suicidal thoughts and I danced a razor-thin edge of acting on those thoughts.

The key (in my experience) to understanding PPD as opposed to dissatisfaction with motherhood, or even just the baby blues, is the word “irrational.” I knew that something much more serious was happening when I was having irrational thoughts of killing myself, believing that my son and husband would be better off without me around. Now, as a person who has never struggled with depression or mental health issues of any kind, this was indeed an irrational thought process for someone like me… leading to an accurate diagnosis of postpartum depression.

Another thing that’s crucial to understand about postpartum depression is that for many women, it feels like we’re being attacked at random moments. It is not abnormal for a woman suffering from PPD to tell you what a great afternoon she had with her child, then literally 10 minutes later, be crying uncontrollably in a heaping mess on the floor, wracked with guilt, sadness, or even uncontrollable rage. PPD for many is not a 24/7 feeling. So, to translate this into the blogging world, that means that when one post is a glowing picture of their child and how much they love them and the next is how they have feelings of inflicting harm on aforementioned child, THAT is PPD, my friends. It’s not trying to cover it up. It’s not pretending that everything’s okay. Sometimes, there are okay moments! But the not-okay moments are crippling at best. And its in those hard, broken moments that the small victories are passed off as insignificant. Are you beginning to see the battle that’s being fought here? There is no rhyme or reason to postpartum depression, it seems. It strikes at will and sometimes, it’s all we can do to keep standing when it does.

The next thing I want to talk about is coping and healing. This is where everyone has an opinion and everyone is always happy to give it freely. Every woman copes with postpartum depression differently. For me, I played my cards pretty close to the chest. I can count on almost one hand how many people knew about my struggle. We didn’t even tell our immediate family! It’s not because I was ashamed, or that we didn’t trust them with the knowledge, but simply because it’s what I needed, personally. I knew that I needed a small community of people around me, who could come be WITH me in the flesh. I knew that answering questions about my depression on the phone every time I talked to my family would be too much. I knew that writing about it for the world to see was not something that would benefit me or my healing process. My goal was to separate myself from the depression, to see it as “other” or outside of myself. Something that I could look at objectively in the good moments and put plans into place for the bad moments. If I was asked about it every five minutes, I wouldn’t have been able to do that.

Are PMD’s the new Jimmy Chu’s?

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Six years ago, I woke up and wandered into my walk in closet. To my left, neurosis and psychopathy. To my right, temporary madness. I walked right past them to the very back of the closet and grabbed a pile of dusty boxes from the darkest corner.

Ahhhhh.

There they were. All the members of the Postpartum Mood Disorder line, their labels obscured by years of dirt and grime, left there by the previous generation of women just for me. Chills ran down my spine as I placed the boxes on the floor and plopped down beside them, dizzy with anticipation.

Postpartum Anxiety, Postpartum Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Depression, Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, and the most spectacular and rarest of them all – Postpartum Psychosis.

As I opened one, cobwebs covered my hands as stale air escaped.

I hyperventilated as the suspense of discovering my poison washed over me.

As I pulled the lid off, there it was, shining in all its glory.

Postpartum Obsessive Compulsive Disorder! I clapped my hands with glee, grinned, squealed, and slipped my toes into the bejeweled insanity, strapping my heels in for the bumpy yet glittery ride.

As I returned the other boxes to the shadowy corner, the fun times rolled full force ahead!

Horrible traumatic thoughts about harming myself and my baby slammed into me. I shivered in sheer delight. My anxiety level shot sky-high as my daughter screamed and fussed in the next room. And oh yes, my favorite of all – my newfound fear of kitchen knives as they became central to the little shards of horrificly delicious thoughts.

Oh yes.

THIS is what I am talking about. This is awesomeness all wrapped up in a gorgeous pair of killer heels. Where on EARTH had they been my whole life? This rocked.

As I sat down in the living room to nurse my daughter for what seemed like the 50th time in less than 3 hours, I admired my fancy new shoes. They were hypnotic, yet psychotically tragic at the same time. But dammit, they were mine. Bejeweled, beveled, and shining like gold, they clung to my feet with a grip that just would not quit.

Slowly the sun slid beneath the horizon as the house darkened and a loud silence filled the world, screaming at me.  Yet here I still sat, pinned to the couch, nursing baby on my boob, on my gazillionth episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, shoes still strapped to my feet. My heels blistered, my toes horribly pinched, my arches swelled, and my cankles threatened to devour the straps.

I wanted to take the shoes off. Now.

But baby wouldn’t stop eating. Life wouldn’t stop moving forward, swallowing me whole, the thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling around my head long enough for me to figure out how to undo the now almost buried straps beneath my cankles.

I pulled, I fought. I screamed, I wept, wailed, gnashed.

I needed professional help.

Had I waited too long? Had I done permanent damage to myself? To my marriage? How would I care for my baby if I could no longer function? What on earth had I really sacrificed to be so fashionable? Slipping on a PMD was the trendy thing to do, right? Why wasn’t this working for me? What the hell had I done wrong?

Turns out I had done nothing wrong.

And for the record, I didn’t really slip on a PMD. No, it crept up on me from behind, beat me over the head, and rode me like a drunken sailor rides a mechanical bull after one too many beers during shore leave.

I did NOT choose to have a PMD.

I do not claim to have a PMD so I can be like Dooce.

I do not claim to have a PMD so I can outdo your bad days.

I do not claim to have a PMD just because the cool kids are doing it.

I do not claim to have a PMD just because I want more traffic to my blog, dammit.

I started my blog to cope with an unexpected pregnancy AFTER two episodes of Postpartum OCD, one of which spit me out on my bed, rocking back and forth in the fetal position muttering “I don’t want to be Andrea Yates,” over and over to avoid grabbing a pillow and smothering my daughters. Yes, I said daughters.

My Postpartum experience couldn’t be solved simply by going home and calming my daughter down because even when she was calm, those thoughts still crashed against my shores, angry, unforgiving, and pushing me even further toward the overgrown jungle.

I for one, applaud mothers daring to be vocal about their experiences with PMD’s. As we raise our voices in a loud and beautiful chorus, more mothers are aware of what CAN happen after the birth of a baby. More mothers today know what to do, how to seek help, and have access to peer support immediately via the blogosphere, Twitter, Facebook, or other Social Media sites.

At the same time, I do agree that some might cry wolf. BUT – it is not my place to judge them. It is not my place to tell them to MAN UP. It is not my place to force them to a doctor so they can pop pills and become one of the “cool kids.” (By the way, if you go to a doc about a PMD and he/she immediately writes you a script, RUN. Run quickly. Find someone who rules out physical causes such as thyroiditis or anemia first. Please?) It is not my place to diagnose them. It’s not my place to compare their journey to theirs and try to one up them. It’s not my place to brag that my Motherhood Lane has more or less potholes. It’s not my place to blame them for feeling lied to if that’s what they express. It’s just not.

It’s my place to listen. It’s my place to show compassion. It’s my place to love them as they travel down their OWN Motherhood Lane. It’s my place to offer resources through which they will also find compassion, empowerment, and achieve the Motherhood Journey they so sorely yearn for as they lay curled in their beds, unable to get up because the thought of facing one more day has left them powerless. Or the thoughts racing through their heads have frightened them so much they want to sleep forever – because when you’re asleep, when you’re asleep .. those thoughts are quiet. But they’re there as soon as you wake up and when you have a new baby, let’s face it, you’re up a LOT.

Once again, disappointment creeps deep within my heart. I wish we could co-exist in our own spaces without offering critique. Without feeling like the grass on the other side is just a smidge greener and then offering suggestions on how to improve our neighbor’s lawn or gossiping with the other neighbor about how the problems we are having with our own lawn is SO much worse than the ones they are experiencing. Fire Ants? Yeh, well, I’ve got moles. Moles? I’ve got groundhogs. STOP IT. Just stop it.

Can’t we all just grab a margarita and tear down the fences between us without the competition? Please? Cuz that, that would rock.

Request for Domestic Violence & Postpartum Depression Research

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I had a friend of mine contact me today asking if I’d spread the word she’s in need of some research about Postpartum Depression & Domestic Violence victims for a current project. She is specifically “looking for research that demonstrates victims of domestic violence are at a greater risk of developing perinatal depression and also for research that demonstrates a history of sexual assault being a risk factor.”

Please direct any links, research, further questions you have to tlawton@drshosh.com.

Thanks wonderful readers!

Warmest,

Lauren