For some reason, post partum depressions is a topic that most people don't want to talk about. But it is something that needs to be discussed.
When I went into my 6 week post delivery check up with my OB, she gave me a basic 10 question quiz about how I'm feeling. This is given to every new mom and it is a basic test to tell if the new mom is suffering from PPD. At this point, Jacob had been dead for 5 weeks, 5 days and Juliet was still struggling in the NICU. Don't get me wrong, she was doing better, but we still had horrible days frequently, and we were on pins and needles when we were not by her side.
To say I was "depressed" was probably an understatement. My doctor discussed it with me and asked if I was wanting any anti-depressentants to help me through my hard time. I knew I was depressed, but this was not due to some chemical unbalance in my head; It was due to the fact that I fought for my son's life for 25 weeks, and it was taken from me. While the idea of taking something that would take the pain away was tempting, I knew in reality, I was going to have to face my pain one day, so why not now? I refused all medication, but I did ask for one more test to be done. 1 in 10 NICU parents develop PTSD (post-tramatic stress disorder). Due to my delivery and the stress of the NICU while trying to parent 3 older children at home, I was feeling myself become extremely anxious, stressed, and overall panicky about everything. I knew the likelihood of me having PTSD was high, so I asked to be tested. I was officially diagnosed with PTSD on January 8th, 2013: Two months to the day since Jacob died. I never told anyone I was tested, not even my husband. He knew, and I'm sure my friends around me knew I was suffering, but I was not about to give anyone a reason to push medications on me when I didn't want them. And I refused all medication. I wanted to get through this my way, with nothing but God by my side. I didn't want to be diagnosed so I could get medications. I wanted to know what was going on, so I could take steps to improve myself. I didn't want to rely on a pill to make me feel better, only to have to stop taking it one day and suffer through it all at a later date. I spent many days figuring out what triggered my panic attacks. Some were simple: pregnancy, newborn baby boys, doctor's offices. Others were harder to figure out because I didn't realize they were a trigger until it hit me. The smell of the lotion and soap I used in the hospital, certain songs I listened to while on bed rest, even some foods. As I discovered a new trigger, I began to try and break that trigger from affecting me. I would play those songs, look at pictures of newborn babies, talk about/to pregnant women. And slowly, I was able to overcome the panic attacks.
But they are not gone. I just had another one not too long ago, when I heard a heart rate monitor playing at the beginning and ending of a song at my church. It reminds me that this is not a one time thing. This is something that may still affect me years down the road. There may always be things that make my eyes tear up, my heart rate skyrocket, my palms get sweaty and my head get light. Satan will not give up just because I have worked with God to overcome these pitfalls that keep me from living my life the way God has intended.
I don't bring this up to get praise, or pity. I bring this up so others may know my struggles, and realize they are not alone. God uses every stumble and situation to bring glory to HIM. And without HIM, there is no way I would be able to overcome this. Don't be afraid of a diagnosis. Don't feel your only option is medicine. I am proud to say that almost 18 months later, while I am still suffering from PTSD, I am functional, and I did it all without medication. I am strong enough to get through this, and so are you.
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