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Just Talking Tuesday: The Elephant in the Room

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There may be an elephant in your marriage or relationship if you have been diagnosed with a Postpartum Mood Disorder.

Maybe you do not want to talk about it.

Maybe he does not want to talk about it.

You are both scared.

You are scared you might be permanently broken.

He is worried he has lost the woman he married.

Fear is a powerful motivator. Sometimes it leads us in the wrong direction. It can leave us away from those we love and the support we need.

So we grow silent with each other. Short, rude, snide. Judgmental, even.

With each other and quite possibly even with our children.

Silence is nothing more than taking your problems and shoving them in a pressure cooker. Eventually it will explode. Explosions are messy, non-discriminatory, and only serve to create additional trauma for you and those who love you.

Humans are not telepathic. If you need help, ask for it. Accept it. Don’t judge or nag how the person helping is doing the task. Unless the manner in which they are doing the task will harm someone, sit back and enjoy the break.

Your loved ones cannot help you heal unless you share with them what is really going on. There may be reasons for you to keep it to yourself – maybe they would judge instead of help. If their response is negative then revisit the relationship after you have healed. Right now, you need to focus on you.

Don’t keep your feelings to yourself because your husband has been at work all day and deserves to come home to a happy home. You’ve been working all day too. Instead, take 10-15 minutes to check in with each other when he gets home. You get 5 minutes, he gets 5 minutes. If you can take longer, do so. But while the other person is talking, you do nothing but listen. No talking back or interrupting.

Another great suggestion from @notsuperjustmom at Twitter is to hold hands if you feel a fight suddenly coming on. You can’t fight if you’re holding hands.

Have you talked about the elephant in the room? Has it been successful? What strategies have worked for you? Is your elephant still stifling your relationship? What challenges do you face? Share with us. Someone may have a suggestion that might just work for you.

Let’s get to just talkin’!!!!

Just Talkin’ Tuesday: The High Toll of Postpartum Mood & Anxiety Disorders

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Original photo "DSC07197" by poodlerat @flickr.com

#PPDChat tonight got me thinking about the toll of Postpartum Mood & Anxiety Disorders.

A mom with a PMAD is Ground Zero. Her immediate family is in the blast zone, at highest risk for developing their own mood disorders, depression, or other accompanying issues. Extended family is just outsize the blast zone and quite often bowled down as they absorb the shock which reverberates as she flails for survival.

As Mom recovers, Dad may sink into his own dark pit, unaware of what is happening, unwilling to admit his own demons in the dark. Why? Because Dad is the rock, the hinge on which the moon is hung. His family needs him. Depression is a sign of weakness. It does not happen to real men.

Oh, but it does.

Just as Mom has cleared her last hurdle, Dad sinks even further away. He is angry. Frustrated. Hopeless. Lost.

Mom questions her own recovery as Dad lashes out. He is incapable of giving her space in which to grow. Incapable of recognizing her growth, her recovery.

Anger quickly eclipses any rejoicing.

Stress and angst fill the air of the home, adversely affecting their children, their lives, their relationships with friends, families, resulting in isolation.

Their marriage spirals downward. Their children act out.

Their lives fall apart.

Granted, the above does not happen to every PMAD family. But a PMAD affects so much more than just Mom. It truly affects the whole family. My PMAD’s damn near destroyed my own marriage. My husband self-medicated after our second daughter. That did not fall out until after the birth of our third child. What a spectacular fall out it was though. I nearly walked away. Instead, just as with my PMAD, I chose to turn and fight. Fortunately, so did my husband. We were supported by members of our church, our Pastor, and family members as we fought savagely to save our marriage. I wanted to give up several times. So did my husband. We have shared this with each other and in doing so, moved to a new level of communication and trust. It has been a long, bumpy road.

One worth traveling.

While I would not want to do it again, I would not change a thing about my past six years of hell. For they have hewn me into a strong woman, a strong Christian, a strong wife, and a strong Mother. I can finally say I am blessed. God saw me through my storm. I know there are more storms brewing out there. I’m okay with that. Bring it. I am ready to tell those storms just how big my God is these days.

However; if there was one thing I would like to toss out the window it would be the exposure to anger, arguing, and stress for the kids.

I did not choose to have a PMAD. But they certainly don’t deserve to suffer from the ripples set in motion from my experience. I think this is one of the biggest things I struggle with as a remnant of my PMADs. The anger, guilt, rage over their exposure at such young ages to such a harsh environment. Sure, it could have been worse. But they certainly didn’t do anything to deserve it. Neither did I, but they truly are the innocents in all of this. And for that, I am remorseful. Resentful even that my PMAD’s stole their infancy and my enjoyment of their infancies from me. If I could toss one thing in a toll booth bucket and be forever done with it, it would be my remorse and resent over what my PMAD’s did to my kids. I wonder every time they misbehave if it is because I was depressed. Do my daughters have ADHD because I was depressed? What about my son? Are my daughters resentful that he and I have a stronger bond because I didn’t have a PMAD with him? Will they be able to rightfully accuse me of having a favorite? How will I explain myself down the road?

It’s enough to make you blink back tears and choke back anger all at the same time. Nauseating, really.

SO. As I take a deep breath and choke back some of that anger and blink back tears, what remnant or part of your PMAD do you wish you could just toss away and be done with forever? Get it off your chest.

Let’s get to Just Talkin’ this Tuesday.

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Just have faith

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While searching for an e-card this morning, I came across one with the three words in this post’s title.

Just have faith.

I paused.

Then I thought about someone saying these three words to a woman in the darkest days of her Postpartum Mood & Anxiety hell.

And then?

I got angry.

Sure, faith is awesomely powerful. It’ll hold you up when you’re struggling, keep you grounded when things are going well. I have no doubt that my own faith carried me through those deep dark days. But if someone had told me to “Just have faith” in the middle of it all, quite frankly, it would have been one of the worst things I could have heard.

But when a person has cancer, diabetes, or a heart attack do we tell them to just have faith? Or to pray harder and everything will be better? Do we tell them to do just that without also encouraging them to see their doctor, take their meds, and go through whatever therapy is set forth whether it be chemo, insulin, diet changes, or lifestyle changes?

Would you do that?

Tell someone with a tumor to “Just have faith” and ignore all that modern medicine has to offer as a chance at survival and remission?

I’m willing to bet you wouldn’t dare.

If you wouldn’t say it to them, don’t you DARE say it to a mother struggling with Postpartum.

Anything else you’d add as something NOT to say to Moms with Postpartum?

Just Talking Tuesday: Through the eyes of another

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It’s dark. You are both collapsed into heaps, this time, you managed to make it to bed. You sigh, close your yes and mutter goodnight into your pillow.

It’s 234 a.m., your wife notes.

“Waaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

You lift your head and glare at the clock.

It’s 315 a.m.

You shove your face back into your pillow and silently scream.

Really? 46 minutes?

Sighing, you get out of bed to get the baby. Check the diaper. A little wet so you change it. Rock, sing, soothe. Nothing works.

Time to get mommy. She’s got the food.

You walk into the bedroom to wake her up. She sighs, shifts, and snuggles closer to the bed. When you do manage to wake her up, she snaps at you.

“But I JUST nursed! Did you check the diaper? Try to put him back down? I’m tired. I don’t want to…. ”

“Yes. Gimme a little credit. I’m not an idiot. I’ve tried everything. Clearly he’s hungry. You’re nursing so…”

“Dammit. I’ll be there in a minute.” She snuggles back into the bed.

You sigh, loudly, frustrated, knowing it will be a good 30 minutes before she even attempts to get out of bed. She will fall back asleep and you will have this conversation all over again before she finally gets out of bed, cursing you under her breath for interrupting her sleep.

She won’t mean it. She’s exhausted, just like you. And yes, you have work in the morning and should be sleeping but she won’t get to sleep much during the day either. Oh, she may rest, but it won’t be restorative. She’ll nod off while nursing, try to snooze when the baby does, but if the baby is up, she is up. And then there are chores. Dishes. Laundry. Cleaning. Cooking. Possibly other children to care for. Errands. Her job? Never.friggin.ends.

Your job never ends either. It’s hard for her to see that though. What SHE sees is you, walking out the front door toward other adults. Toward freedom. Toward conversation that involves more than a few garbled syllabic words at a time. What SHE sees is you, showered, shaved, dressed in something other than the same pajamas she’s now lived in for two weeks. What SHE feels is jealousy, hatred, sadness, grief. For the most part she knows it’s not rational. Somewhere, deep down, she tries hard not to feel this way. But she’s been moody for weeks now. Snapping at you for the simplest comment or action.

You bring home dinner. It’s not what she wanted but she loudly sighs and announces “It’ll have to do.” You pick up the baby and she watches your every move with him like a hawk, waiting for you to falter. You begin to falter yourself. Are you built for fatherhood? Are you doing things wrong? What if you’re screwing up your kid for life at just 3 months old? What if she never lets you really be a father? How will you ever learn what to do? Will your marriage survive? Where the hell are you?

What she doesn’t know is that as you walk out the front door every morning, your heart hurts. YOU are filled with jealousy because she gets to enjoy every moment with your son. She gets to watch him grow, change, and do new things every day. You mourn your fatherhood as you shower, dress for work. You fumble under her judgmental stares, worrying that your fathering skills are not up to par with her expectations. You’ve asked  a million times but you can’t for the life of you get her to tell you what her expectations are for you as a father. What are the rules to this ball game? If you only knew, life would be so much easier. After all, you’re not a mind reader.

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Today’s Just Talking Tuesday is cross-posted with The Postpartum Dads Project. If you’re a mom, please go visit the Postpartum Dads Project and share what you wish your husband had known about Postpartum Mood Disorders and parenting. What would have best helped you when you were suffering? If you’re a dad, share here. What got you and your wife through those dark days? How did you keep communication open if you managed to do so?

(Note: The Postpartum Dads Project site is down for the moment. Let’s all just share here for now and I will cross post when the site is back up! Thanks for understanding.)

Social support is key for recovery from a Postpartum Mood Disorder. The best social support starts at home with your partner. Get them involved and you’ve zoomed forward a zillion spaces on your recovery path.

Let’s get to just talking.