My name was still Becky and I lived in the same house, but postpartum depression and anxiety turned me into a version of myself that looked and sounded nothing like me. That's what these illnesses do, after all.
Kelly is having a tough time with her newborn, but more so, she is having trouble assuming the role of a mother. She is not just affected by her hormones and lack of sleep, but also by the devastating change in her life.
We spent so much time sitting around hating the kind of parents/people we weren't while being angry at each other that we failed to invest even one second in our marriage and, even more importantly, ourselves.
You may pretend you are fine, functioning, because you are still able to sauté the garlic a perfect golden brown and vacuum the dog hair off of the Chinese rug and put on mascara and cut the baby's tiny fingernails without drawing blood. And yet, you are totally detached.
Depression can lurk just beneath the surface of a seemingly "all together" or funny or successful person. I think that's why so many were shocked about the news of Williams death being linked to a suicide.
If you take my gorgeous, healthy baby out of this story, giving birth was the worst physical and emotional experience I have ever had. It was devastating. It devastated me so much I couldn't get past the shock when the nurses laid my baby's beautifully plump body across my chest, heart racing, sweat dripping from my brow.
When some doctors told me I would have to stop breastfeeding so I could take medication to get better, I became even more depressed and hopeless. How could I give up the one the one thing I felt I was good at?
Working with UCLA's Martie Haselton, Chapman University psychological scientist Jennifer Hahn-Holbrook has been exploring the evidence from diverse sources to argue that postpartum depression is linked to early weaning, deficient diet, inactivity, not enough sunshine, and lack of family support.
My labor and delivery were less than ideal, but they were behind me. What I didn't know was that the nightmare was just beginning.
It took a long time, therapy and experimenting with different anti-depressants, but I finally, finally emerged from the abyss of depression and anxiety, and began to enjoy my son and my life again.
By Kelly Coffey Motherhood: I don't know what my expectations were. The media paints a cute picture, but my life has certainly never been cute, so wh...
We are glad the Times is sparking a conversation about perinatal mood disorders and postpartum psychosis. We hope the conversation will evolve and accomplish two things.
By Mara Acel-Green, LICSW It takes a village to raise a family--and well-trained therapists are important members of that village. When I speak with ...
I wanted to love my new life. I wanted to feel excitement, joy and exhilaration. I wanted to look at that red, scrunched-up face and feel nothing but love and adoration. But The Voice would not allow me a reprieve.
For me, caring for a new baby varied from one hour to the next. I was learning to take it day by day. I loved my daughter, but found sleep deprivation, feeding and learning how to intuit and read my baby's cries overwhelming at times.
You were by my side as I fell madly, deeply, head over heels in love with the beautiful little boy who completed our family. You supported me as my first sweet son curled up behind me in the rocking chair. You told me that we would all start healing together.