Category Archives: postpartum depression

PACE Meeting

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Here I sit at a PACE meeting, the only one present, yet again. But hey, it’s guaranteed time out of the house and if someone needs the support, I’ll be here. Plus it gives me time to think and accomplish PACE/PPD things that I have been meaning to do but just can’t get to while caring for a 3 1/2 year old and and an 18 month old! (Like write Senators and design publicity items!)

Preggo brain has officially taken over though – I came here last week even though there wasn’t a meeting. No wonder NO ONE showed up! hehe!

On a plus side, I did the Maternity Fair this past weekend. The interest was great, I nearly ran out of brochures! I also got a primo spot – right up front so that when people walked in, I was one of the first booths they saw. I was very very happy with that lovely surprise. Suppose it helps that I know the woman who Coordinated pretty well but I certainly didn’t ask for a primo spot. Just lucked out!

I had some great conversations with a lot of moms and with quite a few professionals. Managed to network more than anything. Plan on following up with that this week. My approach towards folks was just to let them peruse the table and if they picked up info, I thanked them, if they had questions, I answered them. I had one husband pick up info for his wife and also had quite a few women thank me for my work which was a reward in itself. I don’t feel that being pushy about PPD is something that is necessary, especially when dealing with the pregnant population. Certainly don’t want to add to their fears at all. When pregnant moms approach me, I tell them about the group and always add that hopefully this will be the only conversation we have, but if they need me down the road, I am here for them. That line always gets a giggle or two.

I have another fair coming up in October, sponsored by the place we have our meetings. The table/spot is free, so of course I’m going to take advantage of it. I’m also going to try and get home to my parents’ house sometime soon. Mom wants me to take two weeks but with the way the PACE meetings are between now and December (and um, factoring in that I’m nearly 5 months pregnant now), it’s just not possible. Plus if my mom and I are together for more than oh, three or four days, things get um, tense. I love her dearly, but we do better at a distance and we both know it. Even with nearly 400mi in between us sometimes things still get tense.

Back to the maternity fair… hopefully I will soon be doing training/educating with some local breastfeeding counselors as well as a local hospital’s L&D staff. I also managed to meet & greet with some local doulas and ran into an old college friend who is a child photographer now. Pretty cool! (We last ran into each other here when my husband and I were just getting ready to move to SC so it’s been awhile!)

I gotta run, it’s 40 minutes into the meeting, I’m still solo, and I have some specific projects I would really like to get done this evening if no one shows up.

Remember… if you are suffering from PPD:

You are not alone

You are not to blame

You will be well with help!

The Invisible Woman

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My mom emailed me the following story and I feel compelled to share it as it is quite meaningful:

Perspective: The Invisible Woman

It started to happen gradually. One day I was walking my son Jake to school.  I was holding his hand, and we were about to cross the street when the crossing guard said to him, “Who is that with you, young fella?”

“Nobody,” he shrugged.

Nobody?  The crossing guard and I laughed.  My son is only 5, but as we crossed the street I thought, “Oh my goodness, nobody?”

I would walk into a room and no one would notice.  I would say something to my family—like “Turn the TV down, please” – and nothing would happen.  Nobody would get up, or even make a move for the remote.  I would stand there for a minute, and then I would say again, a little louder, “Would someone turn the TV down?”  Nothing.

Just the other night my husband and I were out at a party.  We’d been there for about three hours and I was ready to leave.  I noticed he was talking to a friend from work.  So I walked over, and when there was a break in the conversation, I whispered, “I’m ready to go when you are.”  He just kept right on talking.

I’m invisible.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.  Inside I’m thinking, “Can’t you see I’m on the phone?”  Obviously not.  No one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I’m invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:  Can you fix this? Can you tie this?  Can you open this?

Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being.  I’m a clock to ask, “What time is it?”  I’m a satellite guide to answer, “What number is the Disney Channel?”  I’m a car to order, “Right around 5:30, please.”

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude—but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.

She’s going¸ she’s going¸ she’s gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England.  Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.  I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well.  It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean.  My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.  I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, “I brought you this.”

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.  I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription:  “To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.”

In the days ahead I would read—no, devour—the book.  And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

·         No one can say who built the great cathedrals—we have no record of their names.

·         These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

·         They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

·         The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam.  He was puzzled and asked the man, “Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof?  No one will ever see it.”

And the workman replied, “Because God sees.”

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.  It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, “I see you, Charlotte.  I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.  No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.”

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction.  But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.  It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness.  It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder.  As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.  The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, “My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.” That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself.  I just
want him to want to come home.  And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, “You’re gonna love it there.”

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals.  We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right.  And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

OB Appt this morning…

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Didn’t actually get to see the OB this morning – he had 3 deliveries. (Busy week!)

I spoke with his primary nurse and mentioned that I have been having pelvic issues again. I have a history of my sacro-iliac joint becoming misaligned during pregnancy. During my first pregnancy, it was horrific. I couldn’t get into or out of bed, the car, the shower, put on socks, turn over, put shoes on, etc, without tears streaming down my face. My first OB told me “Welcome to pregnancy” HAH! yeah, um, pregnancy should NOT cause so much pain that you’re in tears. Labor maybe. But not pregnancy. My second OB sent me to PT. I’ll be doing PT this time around as well. I’m also trying to get a wedge pillow so that I can sleep on my back – sleeping on my sides is just not an option. My hips are KILLING me.

I was hoping to be able to speak with the OB this morning on a somewhat professional level about PPD and give him some of PACE’s handouts, etc, for him to give to his patients. Of course I wanted to see where he was at as far as treating PPD prior to just handing stuff over. I would have at least been that considerate. But because he wasn’t available, the nurse made a note that I wanted to speak with him about PPD and hopefully we’ll be able to work something out.

As far as the baby goes, they had a heck of a time finding a heartbeat. My babies do NOT like diagnostic equipment while in the womb. Both girls were hiders too. They finally found the heartbeat for just long enough to get a measurement and it was in the 150’s, which is good. Still haven’t gained much weight this pregnancy, if any, which I’m still dumbfounded about because I’m eating so much stuff that I probably shouldn’t be.

So therapy is tomorrow and I am really looking forward to sitting down with Jane and a cup of coffee and just having a quiet hour of reflection out of the house.

Speaking of reflection, today’s appt was kind of odd for me. After they finally found the baby’s heartbeat, I was both  relieved and still a bit disappointed. As before, more relieved than anything because I got sick earlier this week due to something I ate so I had been worried about the baby – I had started to feel movement mid-last week and the past few days not so much movement. I was quite relieved that the baby was still ok – and maybe because I had been thinking that miscarriage was a very real possibility – maybe that’s what caused my emotional response this morning. It was pretty difficult when they were trying to find the heartbeat and couldn’t at first. I started to think that maybe I had lost the baby. *lightbulb* And hey, you know what, I DON’T want that to happen. I am a mother of three. One of them just isn’t here on the outside yet. Wow. I’m gonna go now and just let that sink in. I’ll be back when I get a minute or two.

One step closer….

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The following is a press release from Rep. Bobby Rush’s office. GREAT news on the Melanie Blocker-Stokes Postpartum Depression Research & Care Act of 2007 and its journey through Congress! If you haven’t already mailed or spoken with your Congressional Representative, please do so now.

Press Release from Congressman Bobby L. Rush
July 19, 2007

Chairman Bobby L. Rush Wins Unanimous, Bipartisan Support, In Health Subcommittee, For 1st Federal Postpartum Depression InitiativeH.R. 20 provides new mothers with tools to treat postpartum depression

WASHINGTON DC: U.S. Rep. Bobby L. Rush, Chairman of the Subcommittee on Commerce, Trade and Consumer Protection, proudly marked a major step forward today in advancing the rights of women’s health with his successful effort in gaining unanimous support from members of the House Energy and Commerce Subcommittee on Health for H.R. 20, the Melanie Blocker Stokes Postpartum Depression, Research and Care Act of 2007.Today’s action came as a result of more than six years of tenacious work by Rush to gain passage of the legislation to secure much needed resources for research and medical advances in the treatment of postpartum depression and psychosis.

“As proud and excited as I am by the progress we’ve made today, I remain focused on the fact that thousands of women, of all colors and from all walks of life, will continue to suffer in silence without the help they need in what should really be a joyous time,” said Chairman Rush. “I applaud the valiant work of Melanie’s mom, my constituent, Carol Blocker, for turning her pain into a passionate and ongoing effort to help make sure that no other mother suffers the needless loss of her daughter from this terrible syndrome.”

Rush, along with thousands of concerned activists around the country, continues to work to secure much needed resources for research and medical advances in the treatment of postpartum depression and psychosis, which afflicts far too many women in their child-bearing years.

Because of the failure of our nation’s health system to effectively address the medical ramifications of postpartum depression and psychosis, I will continue to urge my colleagues in the House and Senate to join me, Melanie’s mom and millions of concerned families throughout the country to ensure
enactment of this legislation,” Chairman Rush added.

Postpartum depression is a serious and disabling condition that affects approximately 1 in 7 new mothers resulting in about 800,000 new cases each year. Of the new postpartum cases expected to be diagnosed this year, fewer than 15 percent of mothers will receive treatment. However, research has proven that, with treatment, more than 90 percent of these mothers could overcome their depression and lead healthy lives.

H.R. 20 prioritizes research and treatment of postpartum depression and psychosis by expanding and intensifying research through the National Institutes of Health and the National Institutes of Mental Health on the causes, diagnoses and treatments of postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis. H.R. 20 also encourages the National Institutes of Health to work in partnership with local communities to coordinate and broadcast heightened public service awareness about postpartum depression and its symptoms. H.R. 20 further provides grants to groups that have a track record of working with women who suffer from postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis.

Following today’s Subcommittee vote, the bill proceeds, next week, to the full Energy and Commerce committee for approval.

Watch A Sitcom? No, I just live my life.

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LONG POST!!!!!

 

(The following is an informal attempt at a sitcom script of my afternoon from 4p – 5p)

Characters:

Mom (That’s me, 30 yo, pregnant with third child, exhausted)

Alli (3 yo daughter in the midst of potty training and has sensory issues)

Charlotte (16 month old, napping)

 Open: Living room, toys scattered. Mom curled up in recliner, she’s covered in a soft camel blanket. Cell phone alarm goes off. Mom reaches over and turns it off. Curls back up and goes back to sleep. Five minutes later, Cell phone alarm goes off again. Mom’s arm juts out from under the blanket and hits the cell phone button. Arm retreats back under blanket, Mom shifts a little bit. Nine minutes later, Mom decides to get up. Throws blanket off, shoos the dogs off the chair, and makes her way to the bathroom. On the way, she discovers Alli in the process of pooping in her room. Grabs paper towel. Cleans it up. Carries it to the potty. Alli comes with her.

Alli: “Mommy, I’m all sticky!”

Mom: “Ok honey, well, we’ll do a rain bath. Get in the tub.”

Alli climbs into the tub.

Alli: “I don’t want the toys!” Alli starts to cry.

Mom: “Well then pick them up and put them in the bag.”

Alli: “ok” Alli squats and begins to pick up the toys.

Mom flushes toilet. Not working.  

Mom: “Great.”

Mom reaches over to turn the faucet on. Not working either.

“Alli, we can’t do a rainbath. Water isn’t working.”

Alli: Why?

Mom: I don’t know why.

Alli: Why?

Mom: (frustrated): I don’t know why.

After cleaning Alli with wipes, they leave the bathroom. Alli runs around the kitchen, demanding a snack over and over. Mom goes to living room to get phone to call water company.

Mom: Yes, my water’s been shut off. Is this for non-payment or because y’all are having another problem?

Water Company: Non-payment, ma’am.

Mom: Well is there anyway you can turn it back on if we promise to make a payment in the morning? ALLI! Don’t DO THAT! PUT THAT DOWN!

Water Company: No ma’am. We can’t do that. We have to have a payment.

Mom: Fine. Mom hangs up and calls Dad.

Dad: Hey, what’s up?

Mom: Our water’s been shut off.

Dad: WHAT!?!

Mom: Yup. It’s off. For non-payment. ALLI! PUT THAT DOWN!

Dad: Well, what are we going to do?

Alli: I want a snack! I WANT A SNACK! I WANT A SNACK NOW!

Mom: Alli, give me a minute! I don’t know what we’re going to do. That’s why I called you.

Dad: Well see if they will take the debit card number and run it in the morning.

Mom: *sighs* Ok. Mom calls the water company back.         

Mom: I just called and was wondering if I could give you the debit card number and have you run it in the morning and you guys could then turn my water back on now?

Water Company: No ma’am. We would have to run it as soon as we got it and besides our guys got off at 4p so they wouldn’t be able to turn it back onto today anyway.

Mom huffs.: Fine! I’ll be calling back in the morning then.

Mom fixes Charlotte’s bottle and calls Dad back.

Dad: What’d they say?

Mom: No go. Plus their guys got off at 4 so they wouldn’t be able to turn it on today anyways.

Dad: Great. You gonna be here to pick me up by 5?

Mom: Yeah. Just gotta give Charlotte her bottle and I’ll be on my way.

Mom and Alli go into the living room to get Alli dressed. She puts on her blinky sandals and while Mom is getting Charlotte up, Alli gets the boppy and sits on the couch with it. Mom comes into the living room with Charlotte.

Alli: I wanna give Charlotte her bottle.

Mom: Ok honey, go for it.

Mom lays Charlotte down on the boppy and helps Alli guide the bottle into Charlotte’s mouth. Alli plays with Charlotte’s hair and gives her kisses as Charlotte drinks her bottle. Mom takes pictures. Once Charlotte is done, she starts to cry. Mom picks her up and turns the TV off.

Mom: Let’s go. We gotta pick daddy up.

Alli: ok!

Alli runs over to the door. As mom opens the door, the family discovers it’s raining. Alli darts outside to play in the puddles. As they get in the rain, Charlotte starts to giggle as the rain hits her. Alli plays in the rain drops. Mom gets Charlotte secured. Alli keeps splashing.

Mom: Alli! Come here! Alli continues to play.

Mom: ALLI! COME HERE!

Alli: OOOH! MUDDY PUDDLE!

Alli runs over and stomps in the muddy puddle. Mom picks her up and puts her in the car. Alli whines about being wet. Mommy explains that’s what happens when we play in the rain. Mommy gets in the car and starts it. The belts squeal a bit so mom turns off the AC. Belts continue to squeal down the road. Mom begins to smell burning rubber and watches the temperature gauge. As they pull onto the main road, the temp gauge spikes. An accident in the left-hand lane ha s traffic backed up. Mom turns the heat on, opens the windows, and prays fervently that the car makes it home. Mom calls Dad.

Mom: Can’t pick you up. I popped a belt.

Dad: You’re kidding.

Mom: Um, no.

Dad: Well, I’ll see what I can work out.

At the traffic light while waiting to make a u-turn, Mom desperately wants to bang her head against the steering wheel but doesn’t because of Alli. Mom begins to pray that Dad can get a vehicle so she can make it to therapy in the morning. If therapy has to be cancelled, that would be IT. Dad manages to get a vehicle.  ____________________________________________________________________________

In summary, from 4pm-5pm pretty much sucked yesterday. I am now watching Radio in an attempt to make myself cry just for the sheer release but so far nothing and I’m an hour and 19 minutes into the movie. Don’t know if it will happen or not. I’m not much of a crier when things go wrong. I get irritable and angry. I almost wish I was a crier. Sure would make releasing all this tension easier… Therapy was VERY therapeutic this morning and I wish it could have lasted longer – even my therapist commented that we probably needed a three hour session or so. It had been two weeks since my last session so I had the poopy painting, chris’ wreck, and then yesterday to vent about. A LOT for just a one hour session. I almost started crying on the way home from therapy but not quite. I know I need to but I just can’t. I almost can’t until I do because I know that once I do, I will feel so much better.

And in an update, water is now back on. My car has been fixed and is ready to be picked up. And Alli hasn’t painted yet this afternoon *knock on wood* and is actually not screaming for me every five minutes. *sighs* Now if I could just have that cry, I’d be good to go!