Postpartum Depression

My third pregnancy was difficult.  The anatomy scans weren't great.  Baby girl wasn't growing properly. There wasn't much amniotic fluid. So many people commented on how "small" I was not knowing my baby wasn't growing properly.  I visited the MFM doctor very frequently for months.
I was sick for the first 20 weeks.  My blood pressure would dip so low I would pass out.  My husband was working his butt off during tax season so I drove myself to appointments an hour away every few days. We had a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old at home relying on us already.  It was a tough 9 months. 

It wasn't a surprise pregnancy.  It was actually planned out around tax season. This baby would be born in the summer during our slowest time of year so that we could navigate the newborn months together. I had always been pretty much solo after the baby was born so my husband could work, but this time I would have him to help!

We knew having two so close in age would be tough for a while, but we wanted to keep the kids ages close so they would be *hopefully* the best of friends. The pregnancy was challenging and we knew it would be, but we were keeping our eyes on the "prize" at the end.

We welcomed the sweetest baby girl to our family, Scotlynn Bloom, on July 1st.

Postpartum Depression:

I have postpartum depression.

That is one of the most difficult things I have ever had to admit, but I have recently admitted that myself and a few others.

I.  have.  postpartum. depression.  It still stings as I type it.

As a Mom I struggle asking for help (as many Moms do).  I feel that I need to do it ALL myself, all the time.  I never in a MILLION years thought I would have to ask for help due to a MENTAL struggle, but here I am.

New mom of 3.  Wife of 6 years.  Business owner.  Go-getter.  College graduate.  Master's degree.  and now.....postpartum depression.

I've gotten myself out of debt, quit jobs not knowing where to go next, traveled the world, and made huge leaps of faith.  I've battled through 3 long and stressful pregnancies and 3 NICU stays.  I've never been depressed.  I've never done therapy or thought I needed to.  I consider myself a very strong person who tries my best to take things as they come and buckle down when needed.

However, I have not been able to conquer THIS.

I am here to tell you that postpartum depression does not discriminate.  It is real.  It is ugly.  It is scary.  Despite how I may have felt in the past, it is NOT in your control.  It is completely different than baby blues.  It is maddening.  It is soul-crushing. It is lonely.  I never knew something so ugly and heart-breaking could come from something so beautiful as a new baby.

No birth or labor pain can compare to the amount of pain caused by the mental turmoil of postpartum depression to a Mother.

My Postpartum Story:

We brought Scotlynn home after a ten day NICU stay.  We were quickly thrown into the chaos of 3 kids ages 4, 1, and 11 days.  We suddenly lost our summer childcare when I was still recovering from my c-section only a few days after bringing home baby. It was absolutely terrible timing, however we stuck together and figured it out.  Nights and days were crazy and long, but I was feeling pretty on top of things considering it all.  We had many people bring us dinner in the first few weeks and that help was greatly appreciated! We were accepting ALL the help offered this third time around (lessons learned), but when you are on baby #3 most people assume you have it all figured out already.

At one month postpartum I felt TIRED.  In one month so many things had happened.  I had hemorrhaged after my c-section and needed blood transfusions.  I wasn't healing very quickly and it was frustrating.  I needed to feel better so I could be "Mom".

I got mastitis about a week later which resulted in me crying in the middle of the night uncontrollably until I realized I had a 104 fever.  I was so focused on the baby I was feeding that I didn't realize how bad I really felt until I blacked out walking out of her room at 3AM.

After the mastitis got under control, I felt miles better.  I felt the first few weeks this 3rd time around was so much harder than the first two times I did it.  However, that made complete sense considering we had two other children that also needed us 24/7.

The postpartum emotions hit me like they had before and I was ready for them.  I cried over things that I normally wouldn't, but I knew that was par for the course after having a baby.  I spoke to my husband at the end of most nights and agreed it was a rough day, but I was chugging along fine.

I lost all of the baby weight almost immediately after birth--30 pounds.  I figured after surgery my appetite would come back once the medications left my body, but it didn't. I was pumping milk every few hours every day and had no appetite, but I figured it would get better...
I confided in a few people about my lack of appetite and was met with the response, "must be nice".
I felt something was wrong, but no one seemed to think it was an issue so I brushed it off.  (My OB even laughed a little when I told her I had no appetite. How lucky!)

I was having a difficult time sleeping and for the first time in my life I started taking sleeping pills just so I could get a few hours of sleep.  I would wake up in the middle of the night and be up for HOURS for no reason.  All kids asleep and I was wide awake. As soon as I finally drifted off to sleep, I would be woken by a crying baby.  I cried in the middle of the night out of sheer frustration.

It wasn't until about 7 weeks postpartum that I started really struggling.  Instead of feeling better day-by-day, I was feeling worse each day.  It was like all of my good emotions were gone and my body was incapable of feeling happiness.

The crying wasn't letting up at all, it was only getting worse and I didn't know why. I felt overwhelmed and trapped.  I didn't feel capable of taking care of all 3 kids alone.  I would often run to my closet and cry uncontrollably in my pillow for no apparent reason. It felt impossible to appease a 4-year old, rationalize with a 18-month old, and care for a newborn all at the same time.

When the baby cried I would be so anxious and my heart would race a million miles a minute.  I had several panic attacks and couldn't explain what triggered them. I did have some Postpartum anxiety after I had baby #2, but it only lasted a couple of weeks before it went away.  This time it was creeping up on me every day and escalating.

My temper was out of control--completely not like me.  I was easily angered and yelled at my kids.  I felt isolated and very lonely even surrounded by loved ones.  When I would go out of the house to have "me-time" I would just sit in my car and cry alone in a parking lot.  I felt at any moment I was just barley holding it together.

I seriously regretted getting out of the house each time I did.  I had nothing real to say to anyone and no one ever bothered to ask me how I was doing.  Most people commented saying how they just KNEW I was spending all of my time these days "snuggling that baby".

That was so far from the truth.

I was having a very hard time connecting with thew baby for months after she came home.  I loved her, but just didn't have that "feeling".  It made me cry more when I thought about it, so I didn't.

The bottling up and pretending made me feel worse.   I felt like we made a mistake.  I felt like we put way too much on our plates at once.  I felt like we messed up the good thing we had going.  The 3rd baby had put me over the edge and made me crazy.  I didn't even recognize the person I was being.


Every night when I got in bed I got very anxious.  I didn't know how much sleep I would get or how many times the baby would wake me. My heart would be racing so fast that it would be hard for me to sleep.  When I would wake to a crying baby I was mad.  I didn't want to get up.  I didn't want to feed a baby.  I longed for the past.  Her cries made me cringe.

The guilt I had from feeling those feelings about MY CHILD was excruciatingly painful.  She had done nothing.  She was just this perfect, sweet, angel baby that arrived into our family.  She was stuck with an unfit Mom who SHOULD be obsessing over her but instead was crying over her.  When I thought about this it made me SO angry at myself.  I felt she would be better off without me.  I felt like I was making her sad.  I knew she could sense my frustration and sadness and it crushed me.

My two older children had been thrown into several huge changes suddenly.  Instead of having a Mom there to comfort them and help them adjust, they had a crumbling Mom.  A Mom who could barley make it through the day. I was not there for my babies when they needed me the most.

I was told so many times by so many people how "blessed" I was and "these are the best days of your  life", but I didn't feel that way.  I felt like I was trapped in my own personal hell.  I just wanted to feel like ME, and not the anxious, sobbing, out of control person I had become.  I knew I was completely blessed to have my beautiful family and my good life, but it hurt terribly hearing those words repeatedly and the guilt felt massive.  I often wondered what was wrong with me if I thought these days were terrible and everyone else thought they were the "best days ever".


I was either crying from being completely overwhelmed by my normal daily tasks or felt completely NUMB to it all. Things were different than they ever were after baby #1 and baby #2.  Things were SO hard.  I fantasized about leaving and never coming back.

I carried on this way for a while.

Several weekends in a row I was unable to stay at the house with the kids and my husband told me to leave and go do something alone.  I was ashamed of my mental state and the fact that by 9 AM I was basically running out the door.  However, my husband was fully capable of taking care of the kids all day alone.

After a few weekends like this I admitted to myself something was not right.  I did not have this experience after my first or second baby.  Things were different.  Things were not right and not normal.  I googled my heart out and found many conflicting things about postpartum depression.  I had pretty much ALL the symptoms, but I still wasn't completely convinced.  Or I suppose I just didn't want to admit it was THAT bad, but it certainly was.

I made a plan for myself to get some good things rolling.  I started forcing myself to eat even when I didn't feel like it.  I took my vitamins and supplements.  I went for a walk in the sunshine every day.  I listened to supportive podcasts and tried to light a fire in myself.  I got up early and had coffee alone to start the day right.  I went on a few dates with my husband.  I went out with my friends.  I talked to myself about how blessed I was.  I got massages and went to the chiropractor.  I went to the movies and dinner alone.  I did things that used to make me happy. 

Nothing was working/helping.  I was SO FRUSTRATED.  I was trying SO hard to focus on myself and make myself better.  I was doing ALL the things and seeing no improvement.

After listening to a podcast that mentioned postpartum thyroiditis, I made an appointment with a new doctor to do blood work.  I didn't want to see my OB because I knew she would call me in an anti-depressant immediately and I didn't want that, not yet.  I had a million questions that I wanted to ask someone and I knew my OB wasn't that someone. 

I anxiously sat in the room and gathered my thoughts waiting on the docotor.  I really had no idea how to put into words everything I was feeling.  As soon as I began speaking, I had to hold back the tears.  I absolutely lost my composure when she told me that my children could feel my pain and I couldn't hide it from them.  I knew she was right and it crushed me.  I had been trying SO hard to keep my pain and suffering from them.

The  doctor was so nice and sweet and assured me there probably was an underlying issue like a thyroid problem.  I probably also had anemia due to the blood loss after my c-section.  She gave me zero information about postpartum depression. I was hopeful after talking to her, and I waited for my results.  She wanted to see me back in two weeks.  She assured me we would work through this and find an answer together.

During those two weeks, I was crying constantly and each day ended with me crawling into bed as soon as the kids were down and ugly crying. My husband was sympathetic, but I could tell he just didn't get it.  Also, he was tired from taking care of 3 kids AND ME.  He wasn't getting any sleep and was also working to make money for our family. I was feeling like he was tapped out.  I was feeling bad for being a burden to him instead of a teammate as I normally was.  This was a hard time for him too.  It was hard to hold up the business and take care of me and the kids with little sleep. I was mad at him for not being there for me like I needed him to be, but I was also SO upset he was having to live through this.  My emotions were all over the place.

Our life was a mess.  We were fighting and dividing, which was not like us. What had we done?

I felt I needed help, but there wasn't anyone available to help me like I needed.  In retrospect I probably should have left to get some help for a little while and get my mind right, but I had too much responsibility at home to leave.  I also didn't have the time, money, or energy to pour into MYSELF.  That seems crazy when you are a parent to stop and help yourself.... or it did to me.

I felt like I was drowning in a giant hole that I would never escape.  It was impossible for me to put all of this into words to share with someone or ask for more help.  Honestly, I did such a good job going through the motions and internalizing it all that I don't think most people noticed there was anything going on with me. I didn't lie in bed all day or cry in front of people.  I didn't complain and whine.  I was acting normal and wanting so badly to feel normal.

I never heard back from the doctor's office on my test results.
I called back again and finally had a nurse return my call.  It was the doctor's nurse and she said all my test results looked "fine" (minus some anemia).  She asked me if I was sleeping any better and I said I was sleeping a little better because my baby was sleeping all night.  I told her everything else was the same.  She urged me to get some better sleep and said to call them back if I ever "need anything else".

I was crushed.

I had convinced myself that I had found the problem and there would be a solution, but I was wrong. My blood work was "fine" and there was nothing wrong with me.  I felt crazy.  I was going crazy.  WHY could everyone else handle the stresses that came with 3 kids, but I couldn't?

I was angry.  I was shameful.  The few times I voiced my concerns to people I was shot down.  I was assured that having kids was hard and my struggle was normal. I had tried to reach out for help with no success.  I was at my wits end and so was my husband.  He needed me to be normal and so did I.

I went through the motions. I checked off all the boxes I needed to every day.  Packed lunches, washed bottles, bathed kids, got groceries, drove kids to and from school, kept up with my work in the business, and pretended I was fine.  I decided if I pretended long enough that one day I would be fine. I stopped complaining to my husband and kept it all in even from him.

I felt like the worst person in the world.  I had three amazing HEALTHY kids.  I had a husband who was willing to go above and beyond for me.  I had childcare arranged so I could work.  I had chances to get "me time" in every day AND I WAS STILL A DISASTER.  So many people had it worse than me and were kicking ass and I was failing miserably. I just couldn't understand why I was struggling so much.  This was by far the most help I had ever had with a new baby and it was the worst I had ever felt.

God had given me the world's easiest baby and I couldn't handle her existence.

Something's gotta give:

My symptoms worsened and the crying increased.  I had three periods in one month.  I could no longer convince myself I was "fine".

I decided to seek out some information about Postpartum depression.  This was in the form of counseling specializing in PPD.  I felt silly going to talk about my feelings, but didn't really know what else to do. 

The counseling appointment basically was a chance for me to let it all out in a judge-free zone.  I did let it ALL out and cried my way through my feelings knowing I would not be judged.  I said all the terrible things I was thinking out loud.  

It was freeing.  

I walked out of that appointment feeling 100 times lighter.  Like I was able to take the Mom-guilt I was having and leave some of it there in that room. I got a lot of my questions answered and it really lit a fire inside me.  I felt motivated to fix myself.  I had anger toward people in my life that were not noticing my struggle and weren't helping, but I realized that anger was not fair.  This was my battle to fight and I needed to admit I had a problem and face it head on.

I listened to every podcast I could find about postpartum depression.  I started taking supplements to help stabilize and balance out my hormones. I doubled up on my iron supplements to help my anemia. I read about the brain and how it deals with stress.  I started walking again, EVERY day.  I started doing gratitude practice every day.  I drank my water and tried to soak in the good moments with my kids. I read self-help books. I prayed hard. I tried my best to meditate (probably not my thing but I gave it a good try). I told myself over and over and over again that it WILL GET BETTER. 

My Uphill Battle 

I realized one day that I missed my baby when I had been away that day.  I WANTED to go home and snuggle on her.  This was a huge change and it felt so so good that I cried. 

I had days where I craved some of my favorite foods again.  I got dressed up and got out of the house.  I spent some one-on-one time with each of my kids.  I had a day where I didn't cry at all.  I had the first "good" day in weeks.  I slept for 7 hours straight without waking.  I felt like it was working. 

The next week I had a couple of good days in a row.  I felt like i was slowly climbing myself out of the hole..... Then life would happen and shit would get piled back on top of me again and I would be pushed back down to the bottom.  

I would start to see the light again, but if I missed ONE day of my "stuff" (working out, me-time, structure, gratitude) then shit hit the fan.  I had one entire good five days, but the following weekend was horrible and all of those feelings came rushing back. I could see that I needed to stick to those things or I would be set back, but I WAS starting to see the light and that was the most important thing.

Today:

I am almost 4 months postpartum.

I woke up today before my kids and drank my coffee. I made the baby a bottle and ran up to her room to wake her at 7.  I had missed her little face over the night.  She stretched and looked up at me and smiled.  My heart was so happy to see her.  I kissed her on the head a million times and sang her a song despite my terrible singing abilities.  I looked at her and could not imagine NOT having her in my life. I talked with my husband in her room while we finished our coffee.  We got the kids ready for school and completed the 2398430 morning tasks, and I didn't feel overwhelmed by it all.  When the kids left for school I snuggled my baby more before she went down for her nap.  I bought new shoes and committed to a 5K run.  I got out in the sunshine and did my first training run.  I'm starting to feel like me again.  The me that wakes up happy in the morning and ready to kick ass.  The me that has goals and dreams and plans.  

I believe a lot of things came into place in order for me to see and stick to what I needed to do to help myself.  Maybe fate.  Maybe luck.  Maybe answered prayers.

A series of events led me to sharing my struggles with a large group of women.  I let my guard down long enough to be vulnerable and share my struggles. That led me to finding strength in numbers.  For the first time, I did not feel alone. It made me realized that I wasn't the only person who had been through this. 

I am not broken.  I will be me again.  It will take time.

I think one of the things that helped me most was having people who had been in my shoes tell me that IT WILL GET BETTER.  It sounds crazy, but the minute I had people to relate to my struggle and their support, I started believing in myself. 

I am still struggling through this season, but it IS getting better.  I still have an uphill battle and most likely several more months to work on myself before I am back 100%, but I am here to do the work and here for my kids.  My kids are and will always be worth all the hard days.

The reason you are reading this story:

I wanted to hide my struggle because I was ashamed and embarrassed.  When I went out to look for help and information on PPD, there was very little.  Most people believe that PPD means you are trying to hurt yourself and/or your baby.  That is not the case!  In extreme cases some women can have postpartum psychosis, but that is not the same thing as PPD and not nearly as common. Also, in some cases of PPD women can be suicidal so it is absolutely something to take very seriously!  

I still do not know why it happens or why it happened to me. I don't know the science behind it what exactly happens to the brain and the chemicals in the brain after birth. In my case, it was a pretty traumatic pregnancy, birth, and month following birth so maybe that contributed.  But I will probably never understand why it happened only after my third baby. I will probably never know.

What I do know, is that I want to help!  If coming out of hiding and sharing my story will help even ONE person, I will be happy.  Please know you are not alone. Please reach out to me!  Please read my story and know you are NOT alone. 

If you have have never experienced PPD, it may be hard for you to understand its' depths.  Please try to be kind and have empathy for those new Mamas around you.  Check on those new moms!  Everyone checks on baby but not on Mom!  Give her a chance to confide in you.  It may be hard for her to voice her struggle, but she needs you. 

I NEVER want one of my daughters to go through this alone.  I am sharing this for them, for my friends, and for all the  important women in my life. 

This is me and this is my story of postpartum depression. 

To my babies, Saylor, Slate, & Scotlynn:

I started this blog almost two years ago as a way to document my life during this season.  I want you all to have a way to know what I was thinking and how I felt as a Mom/Wife during these years.  I want you to know our story.  I want you to know the good, bad, and the ugly. I never want you to feel that what you are feeling is not normal or not okay.  I don't want you to think we easily made it here and we had an easy marriage or easy time growing our family.  We have had all the same fears that you will have in this season and you can come to us when you need advice, help, or open ears.  It is 100% okay to admit that these times are tough because they are.

If you find yourself in this season of life struggling, you are not alone.  Please{always}ask us for help! Know that theses struggles do not define you or your strength.  This is simply a season of struggle.  A "face-down" moment, but you will rise and it WILL get better!

To my daughters:
If you have postpartum depression, TELL ME!  I will be there for you as long as you need me, in whatever way you need me.  I will stand beside you.  I will lift you up and you will NOT be alone.

To my son:
If your wife struggles with PPD, help her fight through it. Take her seriously. It will get better, but she needs you to help her be strong in this time.  You are her person and she needs you now more than ever. I will stand by you both in this time and take off any burden that I can so you can help your wife and your family.

You were all made to do hard things.  You can do this and I will support you, always.

Love,
Mom.