Birthday Week: Postpartum Depression OR Why I Will Never Have Another Child Part II

As detailed in my previous post here, from the very first moment that Remy entered this world I felt nothing for him. During labor I spent most of the time wishing this thing would get out of my body so I could finally feel better. But really the story of my postpartum depression began before Remy was born.

3 months after Nic and I got married we found out we were expecting a baby. We were ecstatic and felt all the normal emotions of excitement and happiness. 3 weeks later, on May 7, 2007, I miscarried. That event has been the most defining moment in my life and even today I have not fully recovered or grieved. After I miscarried I learned how many women I knew that had a miscarriage. For the majority of them it seemed like no big deal. Sad, yes, but life went on and they moved on too. My miscarriage crippled me with grief. I spent months moving like a zombie through my daily routine.
Everything we read about miscarriage said one of the best things you can do is to get pregnant again. So we decided to try again. During this time we also had an upheaval with Nic's job situation because of a deadbeat boss he had and we were having car troubles daily with our Land Rover. This added to the stress in our lives and I continued to struggle. Nic suggested that I was depressed and I brushed it off because I felt like I should be sad, after all I was mourning the loss of a life, however brief it was. Nic was wise enough to see the difference between grief and depression but I continued on without help.

Around the end of September I began feeling more like myself, I took an interest in how I looked, I at least attempted to keep the house presentable and I planned a trip to Canada to see my college friends. Nic had a stable job and we decided to purchase a more reliable vehicle in October. I started to come back from the abyss of grief...and then I got pregnant. This joyous thing, a baby, was supposed to be the best thing for the hole in my heart. Instead I reacted completely opposite. I struggled with feelings of not wanting this baby because I wanted the first baby. It just all seemed so unfair. Why couldn't I have experienced the joy of carrying and birthing the first baby that I fell so completely in love with the 3 short weeks I carried it? Instead I was having a different baby. To compound things my sister had recently announced her pregnancy, after which I had decided I would rather wait until she had her baby to have one of my own. Unfortunately we were a little late in making that decision. Her happiness was like salt in my wounds. I wanted to scream "Doesn't anyone remember?!! That should be me!".

So I began the journey of pregnancy by sliding back into the depression that I had so recently come out of.

When I was 4 1/2 months pregnant the company both Nic and I were working for started to go under and we were both let go. So we moved to Fergus and moved in with his sister, Michelle. There I sat, pregnant with a baby I did not want, unemployed and technically homeless. Nic got a job quickly and I continued to get unemployment while looking for a job. As my due date got closer and closer and no permanent housing situation presented itself Michelle offered to move out so we could at least bring our baby home to a house that only we lived in.

I only remember one time that I actually felt a little excited about the baby. My sister, Anna, had bought me a little onesie that was so small only a newborn could wear it. It had the cutest little fuzzy tiger on the front and I felt excited, briefly, for the little body that would fill it. But that was one brief moment in a 9 month pregnancy.

Bottom line, emotionally I was not stable in the least bit, and here I was, having a baby.

When Remy was born and I felt no emotion I brushed it off and told myself it took lots of mothers time to bond with their babies.

This is one of only two pictures I have of me holding Remy in the hospital, I don't actually remember holding him other than breastfeeding while there.

We went home and the first week went pretty well. Nic was able to stay home with us and he helped me because I could barely move after giving birth. After that first week things quickly went south. Nic went back to work leaving me to deal with Remy largely by myself. Breastfeeding was a struggle from the start. Remy could not latch on and we would spend most of our day with both of us crying. It didn't help that Remy had colic and only slept when someone else was there with me. Seriously, my mother-in-law was convinced he slept like a rock and never cried. Ha! Thankfully both of our Moms were able to come spend a few nights with us so we could get sleep.

As breastfeeding became more and more of a nightmare I became more and more distant. To me, Remy was just a blob. I never neglected him. I fed him, changed his diapers and made sure to make him as comfortable as I could. But I felt nothing for him, I didn't even think he was cute in the least bit. I wanted nothing more than to have my body back to myself and never have to have him touch me again. After almost 2 weeks of breastfeeding I switched Remy to formula. He sucked that first bottle down like nobody's business and took to formula like a fish to water.

At Remy's 2 week appointment Dr. B asked me if I thought I needed any medication. I told him I wanted to wait and make sure it wasn't just the baby blues.He later told me that he was sure I needed medication at that appointment.

2 weeks later I lost it. I would go to bed at night hoping that Remy would die of SIDS and feeling awful that I felt that way. I never wanted to hurt him myself, and I knew that the way I was feeling was not right after all, what mother thinks that! So one morning I got up and fed Remy, packed my bags and informed Nic I was going to my Mom's. He was getting ready for work and kind of stood there in shock and asked what he was supposed to do with Remy to which I replied "I don't care.".

He called my Mom and she was waiting for me when I got there and took me to the hospital. Dr. B prescribed me medication and discussed with me how beyond my chemical imbalance my miscarriage had given me attachment issues. I was afraid to attach to Remy. In fact the first few months of his life I lived with a certainty that he would die too.

During the next two weeks we lived with my parents while we attempted to get Remy on some sort of a schedule. As I became more stable, so did he. At 6 weeks we moved back out on our own and slowly began to have a semblance of a normal life. Around 2 months Remy's colic improved dramatically and my medication began working as it should.

By the time Remy was 3 months old we had a normal mother/baby relationship. I could see how beautiful he was and he could feel that I loved him. The worst time of both of our lives had finally come to an end.

I still have grief and regrets. Grief for the baby I lost, grief for the moments I missed with Remy, grief for Remy that he didn't have a nurturing mother those first few, scary weeks in this big world. Regrets that I quit breastfeeding, regrets that I didn't get help earlier.
I tear up when I look at pictures of Remy during this time (although we don't have many, we lost all the pictures from the first 3 months of his life when our computer crashed) mostly because I could not see what a beautiful baby he was.

Here is a picture while we were staying with my parents. I teared up the first time I saw it, months after it had been taken. I remember I felt nothing for him there and did not think he was cute at all.

The memories I never got or don't remember because I have blocked so much of that time from my head are priceless. I wish there was some way I could get them back. I sometimes am overcome by anxiety for Remy, that he will be permanently damaged because he was not loved by me for too long.

Because of my labor, delivery and postpartum depression I am extremely hesitant to have any more children. Up until recently I was completely opposed to it, however I think if the situation was right I would consider it. I know that if you have had postpartum depression you are much more likely to get it again and putting myself, Nic, Remy and another baby through that again is just not that appealing. But if I did it would probably be years down the road, when I am older and mentally ready to care for a newborn, and when we are more financially stable. But then, every time I think that I might someday consider having another child I think about child birth, would I really want to go through that again?!!

For more information about postpartum depression click on this link.

http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/postpartum-depression/DS00546

Coming tomorrow: After the Storm