In my experiences in this particular lifetime, it has been the deepest pain which has transformed me most profoundly. Such has been the case in recent
years as I have suffered disappointments and tragedies that seemed to have no end. By the time my oldest child, Luka, was 18 months old, I had been
struggling with postpartum depression that I had tried to manage on my own by exercising, minimizing stress, proper diet, fish oil, therapy, St. John’sWort—
you name it, I was doing it. Anything to avoid medication, and I really did try it all.
I was sure that I could beat it, and I came pretty close, but then in September of 2005 my father was nearly killed in a tragic car accident half way around
the world in New Zealand. It was quite the journey from rural Wisconsin to New Zealand in 48 hours to try and see him before he died. My father spent the
next 3 months in New Zealand in a coma, and when he came home to the States, at 55, he was no longer the father I had known my whole life, having
suffered traumatic brain injuries. In many ways he did die, and in other ways he is still alive.
Soon after the accident I was pregnant again, and I remember the night it happened because I knew right away, in fact I distinctly felt her spirit as if it had
come in through the window above our bed. I smelled it in my urine in the morning. That night, as we had made love, I thought to myself hmm, I didn’t know
I wanted another baby. I was in a kind of coma myself, and though I am so glad she came to us, at the time I think I just needed a reason to keep going,
because the depression had darkened considerably.
I then started Jacqueline’s online class, and meditation helped me through much of the hard parts of the pregnancy and the grief over my father’s
changes. I was able to put aside my worries of my father’s health for the most part and focus on the pregnancy. I was trying for a VBAC, which proved
very stressful towards the end of the pregnancy as I neared 3 weeks over my due date. I dreaded surgery and wished for a vaginal birth because my first
cesarean had been so hard, but I worked to let go of my expectations of the outcome. Still, I labored for 3 1/2 days and when I thought I was in transition
and made the triumphant trek to the hospital, it turned out I wasn’t dilated at all. A few hours later a voice inside me said it was enough when the pain did
not subside between contractions and I asked for a cesarean because something just didn’t feel right. The baby’s head had split my pubic bone and was
lodged on that ledge. A couple of months later an x-ray at the chiropractor confirmed that my pelvis is indeed malformed and neither of my babies would’ve
come through after all. This news was an amazing relief, because throughout my depression I had blamed myself subconsciously for not being good
enough to birth my children vaginally. That was a recurring theme of my depression – I was never good enough.
With my new baby girl, Pieta, I was recovering and had 4 weeks before I was back at work. From the very beginning I felt I just couldn’t recover from the
surgery. Every day I thought I would be stronger but every day I grew more overwhelmed. I kept thinking Stop the world! I want to get off! No matter what
I did, I just couldn’t keep up. We were also living in a one room cabin with no running water and I was bleeding and bleeding and bleeding. The outhouse
was 75 ft away and I had a toddler and a newborn in the cabin. I was overwhelmed. It was crazy. I began losing more and more sleep and was overcome
by fits of rage. Luckily I had a friend checking on me who knew the symptoms of PPD and she brought over a screening, to which I answered every
question with a yes except for suicidal thoughts – but those would soon come. By the way, if you have experienced PPD after your first child, it is highly
likely you will have it again after the next child is born. And you are even more likely to have depression after a cesarean birth. I have heard it said that
depression happens gradually, and then suddenly. This is exactly how it was for me because one week I was telling friends, yes I am a bit depressed, and
the next week I was fully psychotic.
I had tried everything I knew to quell the madness that ensued – yoga, relaxation, acupuncture, and yes I finally went on Zoloft even though it was my
greatest fear to do so, but the medicine was too late and by the time I started it I was losing sleep in massive amounts. Five nights I went without sleep,
and I can tell you that mindfulness is no longer an option when you have lost your mind.
Luckily my body shut itself down before the doors to suicide and homicide opened up in my mind, and luckily I had close friends and my husband who
spotted all the signs and were able to get me to help in time. I was fully catatonic when I showed up in the hospital, and the nurses would later tell me they
thought I had come in for detox because they had never seen postpartum depression like mine.
The hospital was an oasis for me where I was finally able to sleep with medications, and I was very afraid that I wouldn’t be able to continue breastfeeding
my daughter but the doctors and nurses accommodated and my daughter thrived under the care of my mother, who left her home and job in St. Louis to
come and help out for the next 7 weeks. Before that time, our relationship had been rocky and ridden with arguments, but since then my mother has
become one of my greatest friends and heroes. I am forever grateful for the medical care I received and continue to receive, and it truly saved my life.
Eventually I was stabilized in the hospital on a high dose of Zoloft, an antidepressant which has been tested enough to show very few effects on
breastmilk, and while I was in the hospital my husband and mother coordinated the rental of a small house in town with all the amenities so I could have a
more suitable place to recover. My boss at the music school where I work found me a substitute teacher and brought soup to my family. It was an
amazing experience for me to know that just when I thought things were the darkest they could ever be in my life, suddenly I felt inexplicably lifted up by a
hidden grace I hadn’t believed existed. A grace I had, inside my depression, completely given up on.
For weeks I felt that I had been risen from the dead, like Lazarus, and the bliss I experienced after feeling so near to death was something I will never
forget. I seemed to see in between everything to where we are all connected – the trees, the black squirrels, the blue jays. I felt more alive than ever,
though those days were also sometimes rocky and frightening. When I asked my doctor if it was normal to feel like waking out of a dream she said yes,
many patients who had lived with untreated depression for as long as I experienced similar awakenings. I likened it to the Buddha seeing the universe in a
river. These tiny insights into the great peace of enlightenment were amazing gifts.
In my darkest hours I was unable to practice anything, but as I recovered, yoga and pranayama helped me to regain my life force which had been so
depleted. Over time I began to see how my heart had ripped open to hold so much more than before, and finally I was able to feel again, to connect with
my heart which had been clenched shut into numbness by depression. One yogi defined depression as the feeling of separation from our divinity – the
opposite of atonement. This truly struck a chord with me, especially when I was able to enjoy music again after many years of being bored by one of my
greatest pleasures!
When I was pregnant I read The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, and this book was a great help to me in preparation for severe depression. I
encountered demons in my own hell, and still I turned towards light. What my depression ultimately did for me was take me to a place of utter noise and
unrest in my mind and body until I collapsed and then, eventually -- emptiness and stillness. When I got there I realized there was still a voice inside of me,
urging me on. There was still Life.
This is how I assume it will always be. Just when we think it is over, when we think the end will come – that which we fear the most – then there will be
silence; and then there will be light. So that gradually, and then suddenly, a river will appear. Drop after drop, and we will see the Universe in that river,
and ourselves in perfect harmony with it.
So now when I meditate, my practice is so much deeper because I have a little idea what awaits me through the muck of anxiety or anger or desire or
depression-- something so much bigger. I can’t imagine anything else that would transform me more in this lifetime than the births of my children and the
severe depression I have been through. Even so, strangely enough I look forward to the next challenge around the bend. I have grown so much from all
of this suffering. And I feel now that I have so much more to give.
years as I have suffered disappointments and tragedies that seemed to have no end. By the time my oldest child, Luka, was 18 months old, I had been
struggling with postpartum depression that I had tried to manage on my own by exercising, minimizing stress, proper diet, fish oil, therapy, St. John’sWort—
you name it, I was doing it. Anything to avoid medication, and I really did try it all.
I was sure that I could beat it, and I came pretty close, but then in September of 2005 my father was nearly killed in a tragic car accident half way around
the world in New Zealand. It was quite the journey from rural Wisconsin to New Zealand in 48 hours to try and see him before he died. My father spent the
next 3 months in New Zealand in a coma, and when he came home to the States, at 55, he was no longer the father I had known my whole life, having
suffered traumatic brain injuries. In many ways he did die, and in other ways he is still alive.
Soon after the accident I was pregnant again, and I remember the night it happened because I knew right away, in fact I distinctly felt her spirit as if it had
come in through the window above our bed. I smelled it in my urine in the morning. That night, as we had made love, I thought to myself hmm, I didn’t know
I wanted another baby. I was in a kind of coma myself, and though I am so glad she came to us, at the time I think I just needed a reason to keep going,
because the depression had darkened considerably.
I then started Jacqueline’s online class, and meditation helped me through much of the hard parts of the pregnancy and the grief over my father’s
changes. I was able to put aside my worries of my father’s health for the most part and focus on the pregnancy. I was trying for a VBAC, which proved
very stressful towards the end of the pregnancy as I neared 3 weeks over my due date. I dreaded surgery and wished for a vaginal birth because my first
cesarean had been so hard, but I worked to let go of my expectations of the outcome. Still, I labored for 3 1/2 days and when I thought I was in transition
and made the triumphant trek to the hospital, it turned out I wasn’t dilated at all. A few hours later a voice inside me said it was enough when the pain did
not subside between contractions and I asked for a cesarean because something just didn’t feel right. The baby’s head had split my pubic bone and was
lodged on that ledge. A couple of months later an x-ray at the chiropractor confirmed that my pelvis is indeed malformed and neither of my babies would’ve
come through after all. This news was an amazing relief, because throughout my depression I had blamed myself subconsciously for not being good
enough to birth my children vaginally. That was a recurring theme of my depression – I was never good enough.
With my new baby girl, Pieta, I was recovering and had 4 weeks before I was back at work. From the very beginning I felt I just couldn’t recover from the
surgery. Every day I thought I would be stronger but every day I grew more overwhelmed. I kept thinking Stop the world! I want to get off! No matter what
I did, I just couldn’t keep up. We were also living in a one room cabin with no running water and I was bleeding and bleeding and bleeding. The outhouse
was 75 ft away and I had a toddler and a newborn in the cabin. I was overwhelmed. It was crazy. I began losing more and more sleep and was overcome
by fits of rage. Luckily I had a friend checking on me who knew the symptoms of PPD and she brought over a screening, to which I answered every
question with a yes except for suicidal thoughts – but those would soon come. By the way, if you have experienced PPD after your first child, it is highly
likely you will have it again after the next child is born. And you are even more likely to have depression after a cesarean birth. I have heard it said that
depression happens gradually, and then suddenly. This is exactly how it was for me because one week I was telling friends, yes I am a bit depressed, and
the next week I was fully psychotic.
I had tried everything I knew to quell the madness that ensued – yoga, relaxation, acupuncture, and yes I finally went on Zoloft even though it was my
greatest fear to do so, but the medicine was too late and by the time I started it I was losing sleep in massive amounts. Five nights I went without sleep,
and I can tell you that mindfulness is no longer an option when you have lost your mind.
Luckily my body shut itself down before the doors to suicide and homicide opened up in my mind, and luckily I had close friends and my husband who
spotted all the signs and were able to get me to help in time. I was fully catatonic when I showed up in the hospital, and the nurses would later tell me they
thought I had come in for detox because they had never seen postpartum depression like mine.
The hospital was an oasis for me where I was finally able to sleep with medications, and I was very afraid that I wouldn’t be able to continue breastfeeding
my daughter but the doctors and nurses accommodated and my daughter thrived under the care of my mother, who left her home and job in St. Louis to
come and help out for the next 7 weeks. Before that time, our relationship had been rocky and ridden with arguments, but since then my mother has
become one of my greatest friends and heroes. I am forever grateful for the medical care I received and continue to receive, and it truly saved my life.
Eventually I was stabilized in the hospital on a high dose of Zoloft, an antidepressant which has been tested enough to show very few effects on
breastmilk, and while I was in the hospital my husband and mother coordinated the rental of a small house in town with all the amenities so I could have a
more suitable place to recover. My boss at the music school where I work found me a substitute teacher and brought soup to my family. It was an
amazing experience for me to know that just when I thought things were the darkest they could ever be in my life, suddenly I felt inexplicably lifted up by a
hidden grace I hadn’t believed existed. A grace I had, inside my depression, completely given up on.
For weeks I felt that I had been risen from the dead, like Lazarus, and the bliss I experienced after feeling so near to death was something I will never
forget. I seemed to see in between everything to where we are all connected – the trees, the black squirrels, the blue jays. I felt more alive than ever,
though those days were also sometimes rocky and frightening. When I asked my doctor if it was normal to feel like waking out of a dream she said yes,
many patients who had lived with untreated depression for as long as I experienced similar awakenings. I likened it to the Buddha seeing the universe in a
river. These tiny insights into the great peace of enlightenment were amazing gifts.
In my darkest hours I was unable to practice anything, but as I recovered, yoga and pranayama helped me to regain my life force which had been so
depleted. Over time I began to see how my heart had ripped open to hold so much more than before, and finally I was able to feel again, to connect with
my heart which had been clenched shut into numbness by depression. One yogi defined depression as the feeling of separation from our divinity – the
opposite of atonement. This truly struck a chord with me, especially when I was able to enjoy music again after many years of being bored by one of my
greatest pleasures!
When I was pregnant I read The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, and this book was a great help to me in preparation for severe depression. I
encountered demons in my own hell, and still I turned towards light. What my depression ultimately did for me was take me to a place of utter noise and
unrest in my mind and body until I collapsed and then, eventually -- emptiness and stillness. When I got there I realized there was still a voice inside of me,
urging me on. There was still Life.
This is how I assume it will always be. Just when we think it is over, when we think the end will come – that which we fear the most – then there will be
silence; and then there will be light. So that gradually, and then suddenly, a river will appear. Drop after drop, and we will see the Universe in that river,
and ourselves in perfect harmony with it.
So now when I meditate, my practice is so much deeper because I have a little idea what awaits me through the muck of anxiety or anger or desire or
depression-- something so much bigger. I can’t imagine anything else that would transform me more in this lifetime than the births of my children and the
severe depression I have been through. Even so, strangely enough I look forward to the next challenge around the bend. I have grown so much from all
of this suffering. And I feel now that I have so much more to give.
| M oms Helping Moms |
| The Hearth Foundation - Copyright 2007 - 2008 Wendy Myers Web Designs - Copyright 2007-2008 |
| Postpartum Depression by Heidi Howes |
| If you would like to contribute to Moms Helping Moms, please contact Jacqueline Kramer. |
| The Hearth Foundation - Copyright 2007 - 2008 Wendy Myers Web Designs - Copyright 2007-2008 |
| posted 7/22/07 allmaterial copyrighted 2007-2008 |
