Baby Blues or Postpartum Depression (Part 5) I don’t want to admit it

So, we got through a VERY LONG first month with our brand new alien, Kyler.  We decided to cancel the contract on the house we were building because it was taking them WAY too long.  (We signed a contract when I was 3 months pregnant and when Kyler was 1.5 months old, they had not even broken ground…)  Fortunately, we were able to find a brand new inventory home and just decided to buy it.  It worked out for the best.  Trying to deal with a newborn, being completely unhappy, “settling” on a new house, and now preparing to move was not the ideal situation.  Most people would be one the edge of a nervous breakdown-right?

Apparently, wrong.  I was so lucky to have my family help us move into our new home.  My parents stayed with us for a week while we unpacked.  Thank God they did because I may not have survived.  My emotions were out of control.  I was so at my wits end with Kyler that I basically refused to take care of him.  How terrible is that?  It was like I was turning a switch off in my head and just going to pretend that I didn’t have a child anymore.  I knew my parents were coming to help and I was going to let my mom have him.  My poor mom.

It was kind of out of nowhere that I just went out of control.  Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING either made me yell or cry.  I wanted no part of Kyler and let my mom take care of him all day every day.  I had moved into a brand new beautiful home but could not appreciate one bit of it.  All that I could see was everything that I couldn’t do anymore because of my alien.   There would be no time to decorate, much less shop for decorations, no time to enjoy the pool outside, no time to cook in the new big kitchen.  Again, pity me.  But, in my world, it was serious and that is how I felt.  I was losing control.  Well, I had already lost control but I was losing it mentally!  I can remember getting so mad at Baby Daddy for the smallest things such as how to make a grilled cheese sandwich.  I absolutely hated him.  It seemed (to me) that he had it so easy, could just work on projects outside, go to work, and not worry about his son or me.  Although my mom was caring for Kyler, I felt like I couldn’t get anything done.  I needed to empty boxes, pay and file bills, grocery shop, etc but felt as though I couldn’t get it done.  There was no reason why I couldn’t when I had plenty of help that week.  Subconsciously, I believe that I was so dreading my parents leaving and having to face the real world with Kyler again, that I was procrastinating and hoping that would somehow stall life.  The real story was that I didn’t want to face life so bad that I was taking everything out on everyone.  All of the yelling at Baby Daddy, all of the “poor me” conversations with my mom were really just me mad at myself for not getting it together.  Everyone has kids and survives.  What was wrong with me?

Finally, someone, I forget who first, mentioned that maybe I should talk to my doctor about postpartum depression.  WHAT?!  I DID NOT have postpartum depression.  My life just sucked, of course.  But, it didn’t.  I had a beautiful new house, a handy and helpful husband, and parents who were a blessing…I also had a healthy baby boy.  Why did I insist that my life was so bad?  Then, someone else mentioned that maybe I should consider talking to someone.  Again, I was offended.  I think when the third person (maybe my mom) mentioned that I was acting a bit out of control, I finally decided to mention it to my doctor.

Ok, I’ll mention it….although I do not have postpartum depression and I’m not taking any stupid anti-depressant that is going to make me fat.  I didn’t need medication – I thought it was ridiculous for people to take antidepressants anyway…  Finally, one afternoon after completely losing my cool with everyone and again realizing that I wanted NOTHING to do with my child, and coming to grips that my parents were leaving in two days, I did call the doctor.  They suggested that they would call in a prescription for me but that I still needed to come in to see my OB.  I was very concerned with the side effects of taking medication and thought that I probably wouldn’t take it anyway but at least I called…  When the nurse mentioned that it may cause weight gain- FORGET about it.  The last thing I needed for my “bad moods” was to gain weight.  I’d surely fall into depression then.  Regardless, I picked up the prescription in good faith but was not going to take it.

I did, however, go to see my OB.  My reasoning is actually hilarious yet sad.  I thought that if I cried enough and explained my sorry life to her that maybe somehow she would make it all go away.  Well, in a sense, she sort of did.  I did cry…but my tears were real.  I felt stupid and pathetic but let it all out anyway.  The important part was that she didn’t appear to judge me in the least.  She sympathized with my situation and comforted me in a way no one had been able to up to that point.  She “diagnosed” me like it was certain and no wonder I had been acting the way I had been.  I couldn’t help it.  The best part was that she did prescribe something for me (something different than before) and it changed my life.

Perhaps, I should have been much less judgemental of all the people on antidepressants.  What did I know?  Well, I learned quickly that if you are fortunate enough to find the right one for you, it may make all the difference in the world.  And it did.  Immediately.  I finally admitted that I did have postpartum depression and I wasn’t embarrassed to say it aloud.  I was also comfortable with admitting that I was treating it with medication.  Maybe it is just in my head and the medication really didn’t do all that much?  What I do know is that I still take it and wouldn’t dare stop.  I’m not going to go into detail about what sort of changes I felt or what I’m taking.  I do want to encourage anyone reading this who feels similar to the way I did to talk to someone, preferably a doctor.  Be open-minded.  I do not feel that I am healed.  I believe that maybe depression will always be with me somehow but I do feel better.  Over the past year since I was originally treated for postpartum depression, my husband has faced many potential layoffs with his job (fortunately, he still has it), we were transferred across the country to a state where I know no one, and my little Kyler (to whom is now absolutely BEAUTIFUL and in no way an alien) is now starting to show a developmental delay.  The latter situation is testing my strength right now.  I have been able to deal with selling and buying yet another house, moving far away from my family and friends; but this new issue with Kyler is very hard to deal with for me.  Hopefully, we will work through it but I am admitting that mentally, I’m losing it a little again. 

Well, if for nothing else, maybe someone reading this feels or felt similar to me and can either get help or at least relate.

Baby Blues or Postpartum Depression (part 4) The Everyday

So, I was on the third week of having had Kyler, I was still bleeding from the delivery, and still hoping that maybe I was bleeding bad enough to be sent back to the hospital.  Insane right?  We were so exhausted from not getting any sleep.  Kyler would grunt the entire night and we couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him besides the generic “colic” term.  Perhaps he really had colic; but no one was able to help us help him.  Meanwhile, the breastfeeding was such an issue.  I just hated every minute of it.  I hated waking up in the middle of the night and fighting to get him to latch on correctly.  I hated having to be half dressed for most of the day.  I hated how uncomfortable I was when he was feeding. 

Unfortunately, I was still not bonding with my baby.  Kyler was not “cute” by any means, he was so tiny and fragile.  He wasn’t progressing with anything that my friends’ babies were doing.  I was so expecting a gerber baby but had an alien baby.  This is definitely sounding like a pity me party; but in all honesty, it was very real to me.  Selfishly, I just wanted my old life back.  We waited until I was 30 to have a baby so perhaps I had just been independent for too long.  I wanted to feel like me again and not just a milk maker.  Still to this day, I get depressed to hear other mothers with their perfect new babies who slept all the time and never cried.

We were temporarily living in a condo while we waited for our new house to be built so our living situation didn’t help matters. I remember just holding Kyler for hours praying for him to stop crying while my husband was at work.  I would walk in mini circles outside our front door singing lullabyes to him for literally hours at a time.  Tears would just pour down my face.  Maybe I just didn’t know what to do with him.  Maybe if I had another one it would be better because I could do things differently.  At this point though, we’re not taking any chances, one is enough! 

It was so frustrating to not be in control of my life, home, baby, etc.  Our condo was a wreck which was definitely adding to the depression.  As mentioned in other posts, I am a perfectionist and when it comes to clutter and messes…they make me CRAZY!  When you have a newborn, you have clutter and messes- especially when you live in a tiny condo.  The baby gear was everywhere, our dog’s fur was everywhere because I couldn’t vacuum like I wanted, gunk was building up everywhere due to lack of alone time to get it cleaned.  I looked absolutely HORRIBLE.  Fortunately, I DID lose the weight and my body was returning to post pregnancy-ish again.  Sort of.  Jeans and tee shirts still weren’t fitting right but the scale was looking a bit better.  Basically, I didn’t have time to eat and what I did eat was coming right back out in the breastmilk.

My mother in law was truly a lifesaver throughout Kyler’s first few months.  She helped me by keeping him at least once a week.  Thank God!  While he was away,  I wouldn’t rest.   I’d just clean, read baby help books, and eat as much as I could!  I would analyze everything about the way I was taking care of Kyler trying to find a miracle solution to his eating and sleeping issues.  BTW,  I tried all sorts of herbal remedies and gas medicines: Colic Calm, various Little Tummies products, and Mylicon.  None of which were successful.

I felt sorry for myself everyday.  It was weird to be so down…I mean just DOWN.  Why wasn’t I bonding with my baby?  Why was I being so selfish wanting my free time back?  Why did it seem like I was the only one feeling this way?

Speech Delay and Omega 3’s & 6’s

As I’ve posted before, Kyler may have a speech delay.  He has begun therapy with Early Intervention and I think that it will at least give my husband and I a few ideas of how to work with him.  Unfortunately, I just don’t think that once a week with a SLT is enough.  I’ve sought out private therapy and will be meeting with someone next week for an evaluation.  I’d like to get some sort of idea of what is causing the delay.  EI doesn’t diagnose; so they are just there for support and ideas. 

I’m a control freak and absolutely cannot stand the helpless feeling I have with Kyler and his speech issues.  Lately, I’ve really felt like I’m getting postpartum depression all over again…or maybe it’s just depression this time.  ??  I desperately want to hear my baby say Mama!  He used to say Dada and YumYum but now I’m struggling to get any babbling.  We were so incredibly happy, thankful and relieved when he finally said Dada (at 12.5 months); so when he stopped, my mood tumbled fast!  I’m heartbroken over this.  I know that he’s still very young but I can’t help but worry.  The problem is that he never began babbling.  Most babies fumble upon mama or dada very early on but don’t know what it means.  Later around a year, they say it with meaning.  Kyler never babbled at all…at all.  He has just recently started making sounds other than grunts.

Of course, the internet has information on everything so I have just been going to town searching for possible answers and solutions.  My husband absolutely freaks if I mention autism.  I just think we need to be real because he does have a few other red flags (wheel spinning, not responding to his name, not talking).  The more I research and really watch and listen to Kyler, I’m beginning to believe that it isn’t autism.  He is trying to communicate with us and DOES understand many things that we say.  Perhaps his lack of interest previously was due to my own inability to sit and entertain him for very long.  He had to learn to be independent early on.  Anyway, so I’ve really been working with him and I do see some positive things going on although still no words or even much babbling.

So, to the internet I go for more research.  I came across childhood apraxia of speech.  I have MUCH more research to do on this but I do see many symptoms in Kyler of this condition. I’m definitely anxious to hear what the private therapist thinks about it.  At any rate, I’ve found where many parents have supplemented their child’s diet with fish oils containing Omega 3’s & 6’s and have seen vast improvements in their children’s speech (and behavior).  Of course, I’m sure it’s not a miracle drug..actually it isn’t a drug at all and is completely natural.    I hate to give myself false hope but I’m starting Kyler on supplements.  I mean if for nothing else, they are very good for children and adults. 

Yesterday, we gave him one gelcap.  The dosage for an adult would be about 6 in a 24 hour period.  Ironically, that very afternoon, he was making much more eye contact and more noises.  Obviously, it was just a coincidence.  This morning, I put one in his breakfast…I heard “da” faintly about 10 times today.  Coincidence???  So, I’m keeping my fingers crossed and praying that this is going to help him as well.  I am also working very hard on incorporating the EI’s suggestions into our daily routines.  Maybe I’m just more aware of what’s going on…nevertheless, I got a few babbles today!!!

I’m very interested in hearing from anyone who has had experience with a speech delayed child and the supplementation of Omega 3&6.

I’m going to update this in one week to see if there are any more improvements

…..keeping my fingers crossed….

Baby Blues or Postpartum Depression (Part 3) Crashing

It was Kyler’s 2 week birthday and my four year anniversary with my husband, Baby Daddy.  My MIL volunteered to keep Kyler for a few hours so that we could have some time to ourselves.  She thought maybe we could go to dinner or to a movie.  It was a nice gesture but I had so little energy and motivation that all I wanted to do was crawl under my covers and NEVER come out.  I felt guilty for letting someone babysit my infant this young.  My family members would surely have something to say about it.  I DESPERATELY wanted her to keep him though.  I was so incredibly thankful but pulled the “oh, you don’t have to do that” line.  Fortunately, my husband had enough sense to insist that she keep him. 

It was supposed to be for the best but it turned out to be for the worst.  What was left of my mental stability came crashing down as soon as we dropped him off at her house: uncontrollable tears, terrible thoughts about running away, even wishing for something bad to happen to me so that I could go back to the hospital.  I didn’t want to leave him with her because I didn’t want to have to get him back.  My husband kept assuring me that he would be ok with her…thinking that I was sad and worried to leave my baby.  I finally explained that my tears were because I didn’t want him back.  EVER.  We went straight home and the two hours that they kept him were the fastest two hours ever.  I just laid in bed and prayed for the ability to disappear. 

It was at this point that I wondered if something more than the baby blues was happening to me.  Was this postpartum depression?  I convinced myself that I was just feeling sorry for myself and that I needed to buck up.  Unfortunately, I was mentally and physically unable to buck up…things got worse.

Meet the Teacher Day with my Difficult Toddler

To manage my sanity, I decided to enroll Kyler in a Mother’s Day Out program one day a week.  We recently moved to Texas from Florida so I don’t have any family or friends to help out if I need to go to the doctor or run errands.  Baby Daddy and I thought that the Mother’s Day Out program would be a good way for Kyler to interact with other children and for me to get a little relief.

Today was Meet the Teacher Day at Kyler’s new school.  We were all prepared with our “impress the teacher” outfits.   I was on time, my child looked adorable, and we were ready to meet the teachers…  I’m always very anxious during outings with Kyler because he is so temperamental.  I don’t know why but he is always the one to not want to be in a stroller, or not want to be held, or not want to be set down.  It’s so embarrassing but I am persistant to try over and over to get him out and about hoping that one day he’ll behave in public. 

When we found his classroom, there were already several other children and parents standing around talking to the teachers.  My anxiety level was increasing as Kyler started to fuss…I cautiously took him out of his stroller and encouraged him to play on the floor with the other children and toys.  Whew, he did it.  Ok, now it’s time to meet his teachers.  I told myself that I would NOT tell his teachers about his presumed speech delay because I worried about them labeling him.  My big mouth, however, spouted it out immediately as I introduced myself to one of the nice ladies.  Much to my surprise, she comforted me by explaining that her daughter had a speech delay as a child and that she was very aware of how to work with children in need.  I was relieved…until I read that she is the teacher on the two days that Kyler is NOT in school.  GREAT, on to meeting the other teachers….

Meanwhile, Kyler was playing fairly well.  He was noisier than the other children with his grunts and “Aaahh” sounds but having fun.  So, the teachers informed us that there was a parent meeting in the auditorium and that we could leave our children in the classrooms with them if we felt comfortable.  Kyler appeared to be having a good time so I snuck out.  Twenty mintues later, after the meeting ended, I was headed down the hall to pick up my child.  I was feeling great…accomplished even.  We had successfully handled a day out in public and having him at Mother’s Day Out was going to be a good thing…….

Oh no.  I hear screaming.  Recognizable screaming.  Children’s screams sound similar – right?  Some poor child is not happy.  The closer I was to Kyler’s room the more sure I was that the scream I heard belonged to my son.  Indeed it did.  He was fine when I left him; I know he was.  Surely, she’s going to tell me that he was fine the entire time until just now.  NOPE.  I rescued the poor teacher and took Kyler into my arms.  He was crying so hard that he could barely breathe.    I apologized profusely to the teacher.  She said that he was fine for a few minutes after I left and then just lost it and they were never able to console him.  She said, “Oh, don’t worry about it.  It will take them a few times to adjust.  If we can’t handle him and he continues to cry, we’ll call you.”

Why do I have this feeling that the $200 non-refundable registration fee is money flushed down the toilet???

As soon as I got him out of his classroom, I realized that I had forgotten to give him his juice.  If you know anything about me, it is that I am scheduled.  Predictable.  This child of mine was as scheduled as can be and needs his juice or other meal right on time.  How could I’ve forgotten to leave them with his juice??  I hurriedly found it in his bag and gave it to him.  And he was calm……….

Well, one day down but many more to come.  I’ll write about his first real day of school which is not until next Wednesday.

Baby Blues or Postpartum Depression (Part 2) AT HOME

Talk about exhaustion, chaos, confusion, darkness, sadness….that was me at home with this new little alien that we called Kyler.  Before we left the hospital, the doctors noted that Kyler was a bit jaundiced but released him anyway.  Poor little baby could barely open his eyes due the all the “junk” around them, he was as orange as could be, and just a teeny fragile little thing (about 5 pounds).  At home, everything was in order as far as “baby stuff” goes.  We were anxious to use all of our new gear.  Anxious….ok, nervous….ok, terrified.

So, there I was at home.  What now?  Feed him? Play with him?  (Yes, I thought I was supposed to actually play with my newborn.)  Do I put him in his crib now?  Well, the books I had read spelled it all out for me: eat, activity, sleep, eat, activity, sleep, etc.  OK, not so much.  I found that my arms were in severe cramp mode from carrying Kyler around in the awkward position that I thought was appropriate.   I really wanted to eat or go to the bathroom or GET AWAY pretty much immediately.  I kept trying to feed him but it was an entire procedure because I just couldn’t get comfortable with him.  I’d prop five pillows behind me and, again, awkwardly try to hold him the way I had been taught in order for him to latch on properly.  Milk was just spraying everywhere, Kyler was crying, my back and arms were aching…I hated breastfeeding from this point forward. 

I couldn’t wait for the next day because we were going back to the doctor for Kyler’s checkup and I wanted to get out of the house!  Until then, we had to deal with the night.  My husband tried to help as best as possible; but it was me who was doing the holding and feeding and rocking/swaying.  I remember just crying thinking about how I could never do anything alone again.  It was so hard to do anything because I just couldn’t put the baby down.  He would cry and I did not know how to console him.  I was still feeling tired from the medicine I’d received at the hospital and thank goodness for it.  However, the need and want to sleep was just so strong.  I wanted to die.  I just did not want to be a mother.  At this point, I had no desire to be with my baby at all.  I’m sure that some people may read this and think what a lunatic I was…I truly couldn’t help it!  I hated it!  Unfotunately, I did not feel the love and bond that many others have with their newborn.  What WAS wrong with me???

That night, we just took turns holding him, trying to get him to sleep.  If we set him down, he’d just cry or make this really loud grunting noise.  I fed him every 1-2 hours and hated every minute of it.  Oh, I hated my husband at this point too!  I don’t remember too much more from that night other than I felt sorry for myself and wanted to go back in time.  I counted down the hours until we took Kyler to the doctor so that someone else could help hold him and briefly take me out of this nightmare of a life I was in.

Finally, we made it through the night and to the doctor’s office….GUESS WHAT?!?!  My baby’s jaundice was severe enough to land him back in the hospital overnight.  Crazy as this sounds, I was SO excited until I found out that we would all be staying in the same hospital room overnight.  My husband and I would share a single hospital bed and poor Kyler would lay beside us underneath the “lights” in the incubator type thing.  We were not to pick him up unless I was feeding him which actually did hurt my heart a bit.  Thank goodness, I wasn’t a complete monster.  I did feel sorry for my alien.  I did like the attention and help that we received while in the hospital and again dreaded going home.

More to come…..

Baby Blues or Postpartum depression? (Part 1)

I’d like to write about my experience with postpartum depession.  It may take a few posts to get everything out but I’m at least going to start it.

Let me go back a little over a year ago…Kyler at 3 days old….

In hindsight, maybe I should have known that something was not exactly “OK” when I just DID NOT want to be released from the hospital.  Seriously, I wanted to stay forever.  This alien, as he was known as, slept about 22 hours a day; so what was my problem?  It wasn’t that hard.  Well, the breastfeeding was kind of hard but I was determined.  I promised friends and family that I’d give it a try.   I enjoyed the sessions of help from the nurses- even if I was nude and at the mercy of a stranger.  At least they were telling me what to do.  I was really enjoying the free food which was actually managed like a hotel with room service.  The nurses didn’t exactly “take him” as much as I’d hoped but I was ok with that…I was hip and knew that the baby stays in the room these days.  Changing diapers was a bit of a problem at this point because it was so hard for me to get off the bed and waddle over to the changing table (that I couldn’t reach unless standing on my tippy toes).  So, my husband did most of the changing…bless his heart.  The nurses had that swaddling thing down pat; so Kyler would fall right to sleep after they finished with him.  Come to think about it, of course, I didn’t want to go home!!!  I was being waited on hand and foot and for the most part, so was Kyler. 

I have to say, it did all start when we were packing up to go home.  First of all, let me admit something about myself: I do struggle with a few OCD/perfectionism issues.  And, I didn’t want to get pregnant with fear of getting fat (lame but true).  So, when I tried on my “going home” outfit and my body was completely disproportioned, (and I mean DISPROPORTIONED!), I had the quick realization that I wasn’t going home to the “home” that I once knew.

Depressed yet devoted

Everyone wants their child to succeed.  How to deal with an imperfection??  My 14 month old is not talking, barely babbling, and usually only grunts.  According to most statistics, he is delayed in his speech.  With all of the autism controversy, it’s hard not to wonder…is Kyler autistic??  Granted, we are early on in this speech delay but it is still scary.  Not to mention, it is so frustrating.  We are working with a speech therapist and I’m so anxious to get results.  It is so hard to look at my perfect baby and know that there is a possibility that he may not be so perfect.  God, how I love him.  But, God, how I want him to communicate.  It’s so stressful working day in and day out with a fussy child trying to help him learn to communicate with no results.  I’ve always been an instant gratification type of person…a controlling person…and a bit of an “OCD perfectionist”.  I NEED him to talk to me.  PLEASE say Mommy.  Please say DADA.  SOMETHING.  We (my husband and I) have been trying so hard yet all of the trying with no progression just leads to bad moods, attitudes, and feelings towards each of us.

I thought I was past postpartum depression.  Why do I feel like I’m quickly falling back into this black hole?  My need to control every situation is obviously not met.  I cannot make him talk.  I cannot make him understand me.  I WILL continue to work hard with him.  I WILL continue to not self diagnose.  I WILL begin to pray more.  I WILL admit that no matter what, I am blessed.  Life could always be worse.

And so it begins

Hmmmm.  Where do I even begin?  I’m realizing that I should’ve started blogging ages ago.  Quite frankly, the dating life alone was probably much more interesting to an outsider; however, this new world is so complicated.  Ironically, both “worlds” have strong similarities such as insecurities, the unknown, love, chaos, and unfortunately the lost identity.

I do have so much to write about and share.  Mainly, I’d like to blog my daily chaos just to keep track of the year.  Also, I hope to comfort, relate to, or even better make someone laugh over the life many of us live.  A bit of background, I am married, to what I like to call my “college sweetheart” although our dating life was filled with the characteristics listed above.  We’ve been married for five years and I stay at home with our beautiful son who is about to be 14 months old.  I should comment that he wasn’t always beautiful.  No, as a matter of fact, he was quite the little alien at first…love is blind- right?  At any rate, he is perfect on the outside but…let’s just say, not so perfect on the inside. 

Having a baby has been the absolute hardest thing to do.  The day of birth was probably the best day of my life and not because I was blessed with such a beautiful gift.  It was a wonderful day because it is the last day that I can remember being waited on and doted upon from another.  Oh, and I don’t mean from my husband or for our purposes, ”Baby Daddy”.  It probably helps that I had a very easy delivery but don’t you worry, my pregnancy was absolutely terrible.

Everyone tells you that you never know how hard it is to have children until you do it.  SO VERY TRUE.  I would probably not ever do it again.  (FYI- I’ll post more positive thoughts later…just giving background info.)  From the beginning, the unknown happens:  What do I do with this alien?  How do I hold this alien?  Do I like this alien?  Does this alien like me?  Will I get to sleep tonight?  Will this alien sleep tonight? 

I wouldn’t categorize myself as a “baby person”; however, with all of my reading and organizing, I did think that I was prepared…. HA