Category Archives: public awareness

C-Sections and Postpartum Depression: Is there a link?

When Theresa over at The Healthy Baby Network asked me to write an article about the potential link between Postpartum Mood Disorders and Cesarean Sections, I was excited as it was a new area of research for me. I started out with the expectation of finding a definitive link. However, I failed to locate just such a link. Many of the research studies swing toward or away from a link. And one review study lacks a conclusive result in either direction.

Why is this? Why is there no proven link when repeatedly I have heard from mother after mother who had a cesarean section of the emotional struggles she has faced after the birth of her child? Of the trauma, the disappointment, the disbelief that birth did not go quite the way it should have?

Go read the article I wrote for Theresa over at The Healthy Baby Network and chime in with your thoughts. We would love to hear them!

YAWP!!!!! (a rant)

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(the following was inspired by The Daddy Yo Dude Unfiltered’s piece entitled: Bent, not broken)

In the deepest depth of the darkness, I had days unlike any days I had ever experienced.

Days on which life swirled around me, flowed up, down, backward, east, west, and pulled me in every direction. A thought? What was that? Thoughts were for other people, other humans who could engage in meaningful conversation with each other, meaningful multi-syllabic conversation. Other people who did things besides dishes, diapers, breastfeeding, feeding dogs, cooking, cleaning…. other people who did things like shower, leave the house because they weren’t afraid of everyone else knowing their secrets. Other people who could chop vegetables for their families without a zillion thoughts about how to use that knife for something besides chopping the vegetables.

Life was for other people.

Not for me.

Life requires you to hold it together. To not fall apart. To NEVER fall apart – not even behind closed doors.

We hide those who fall apart. We hide ourselves when we fall apart. Because we are not supposed to do this – we are, above all else, to stay together. “Keep it together man!” or “Just keep swimming” are a couple of recent quotes which come to mind here. (And yes, I realize that I am quoting Monsters, Inc. and Finding Nemo. I’m a parent with three kids six and under. I watch these films often therefore the dialogue is applicably stuck within my few remaining brain cells)

Legs break.

Arms break.

Hearts break.

Sympathy for all. No stigma or shame attached there.

But if your MIND breaks?

Holy effin’ robin eggs, batman.

If your MIND breaks …..

Society at large would have you believe:

It’s YOUR fault.

YOU can snap out of this.

And if you can’t snap out of this? YOU will never get better.

Once you get better, you are never ever allowed to break your MIND again.

(yanno, because YOU broke it to begin with and should now know how NOT to break it again)

Dear Society At Large:

My Mind broke. Twice. Or more. I wasn’t to blame. It happened. I sought help. I didn’t get help. I got worse. My mind broke even more. Shattered, dare I say. Decimated. Dust. I got help then. I wandered aimlessly about the hidden place – the hush hush ward of the hospital. The place where they say “You don’t have to tell anyone you were here.” (The first rule of Psych Ward is that there is NO Psych Ward!) The stigma? It starts THERE. It travels home. It spreads. In every direction, in every crook and corner of society it creeps and crawls. And it is there we, the ones with the broken minds, are expected to stay. We are sent home with this expectation, this order to hide ourselves away, to lie about what really happened to us. In the dark corners. The crooks and the crannies. Where NO ONE CAN SEE OR HEAR OUR BROKEN MINDS AND VOICES.

Guess what?

I’m in the middle of the room.

On a table.

Shouting out my story.

TO ANYONE WHO WILL LISTEN.

(Not as sexy as a stripper but I’m there and I’m rockin’ the room)

Because you know what?

I was broken. But I’m not anymore.

I broke the old me. I broke the scared human. I broke her and I left her far behind, crumpled in your dark corner. I gave birth to the new me. I like the new me. She says things outloud. Things that shouldn’t be said and don’t want to be heard by you. But she says them anyway. At the top of her lungs to anyone who will listen.

She is healed. Scarred, but healed. New scars don’t scare her. New scars excite her because it gives her another avenue full of houses to which she can reach out.

I wish you the best of luck, dear society.

The best.

YOU may bend me. But YOU? May never ever break me again.

Love,

You’re invited! 1st Annual Postpartum Balloon Release

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This Sunday is my birthday. I’ll be 29 for the zillionth year in a row because 30 only exists in other people’s worlds. But seriously.

I have been thinking of a simple way to celebrate my birthday here on the blog and it didn’t hit me until this past weekend. What about a balloon release? How COOL would it be to have random purple balloons with messages of hope from women with Postpartum Mood Disorders sealed up tight inside floating all around the world on my birthday? That would rock my world. And there’s no telling how many lives it would touch. Even if it’s just the life of a pine tree, it would still be awesome.

After a couple of rounds with Postpartum, I have learned to never take a celebration for granted nor to let any bad memories associated with a certain day ruin it. It’s become very important to me to re-frame the special days in my life. Nothing specifically bad happened on my birthday during my Postpartum years but I sure wasn’t interested in doing anything awesome on those days. I am sure it bummed my husband out because he (and the kids) would get super excited, want to get me a cake and I’d be all “Meh.” That sort of mood will kill a celebration before it even gets started!

So this year, I’ll be buying some purple balloons, taking the family to a local park, and letting them go. (The balloons, people, not my family!) I may even let the girls write their own messages in their balloons. This year? I’m taking my birthday back and paying it forward at the same time. And you’re invited!

All you have to do is go buy a purple balloon or two or three or more. Then write a short message, preferably on paper that won’t pop the balloon once inflated, insert the message, blow up the balloon, and tie it off. If you’re not feeling particularly creative, download a 5 x 7 pre-designed postcard. All you have to do is write. You can even write a message with permanent marker on the outside of the balloon if you want. It’s up to you if you want to include an email address. All I ask is that you include the phrase “This is part of the 1st Annual Postpartum Awareness Balloon Release for My Postpartum Voice” and my blog’s URL on your note. I’d be interested to see how many women or families find the balloons!

I’d love to see photos of your creations and notes as well! There will be a post up on Sunday afternoon that will include photos of my own balloon release. There’s a Flickr group just for this event so you can upload your photos there too! (Or you can email them to me at mypostpartumvoice(@)gmail.com and I’ll upload them!)

So please join me in celebrating my birthday on Sunday! I’d love to have you there!

9/11: Remember. Never Forget.

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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.

Violence during pregnancy by intimate partner increases risk of Postnatal Depression

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A study included in an early online publication of The Lancet examines the correlation of partner violence against women during pregnancy and the effect this may have on postpartum mental health.

The study took place in Brazil and included women from ages 18-49 years old. 1133 pregnant women were eligible for the study with 1045 included in the analysis. Of those 1045, 270 had postnatal depression. The most common form of partner violence? Psychological. “Women reporting the highest frequency of psychological violence were more likely to have postnatal depression even after adjustment.” while “Women who reported physical or sexual violence in pregnancy were more likely to develop postnatal depression but this association was substantially reduced after adjustment for psychological violence and confounding factors.”

The importance of this study may shift attention to psychological violence and abuse during pregnancy as an increased risk factor for postnatal depression. Physical and sexual violence still warrants attention.

Growing up, we all heard the phrase “Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me.” According to this study, words may be even more harmful. The true danger here is that Psychological abuse is often a precursor to physical or sexual violence.

Another recent study also found that “Even After Leaving Abuser, Moms Mental Health Declines.” A mother’s level of depression and anxiety were still high at least two years after escaping an abusive relationship. This research study comes from Ohio State University and included data from 2400 women who were married to, or living with the father of their child at the end of the first year of a three year period. They were broken down into three groups. The women participating were all nearly low income, minority, first time moms and likely experiencing additional stresses. Women who stayed or left a relationship showed higher levels of anxiety and depression, meaning (psychologically) they were no better off than women who stayed. That said, the researchers DID find that “abused mothers who had more social support did better after the end of their relationship than those with less help from family and friend.”

Lesson learned here? Reach out for support. Don’t settle for abuse. You are better than that. You deserve better. Your child deserves better.

If you are an abused mom/woman, you can start by calling a Domestic Violence Hotline. Start here. Start now. Call 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or visit the National Domestic Violence Hotline’s website for help. You are not alone.