Postpartum Progress

Hope Feels Good Mom Needs Your Support

Warrior Chicks -- please head on over to the Hope Feels Good blog and tell this mom who is suffering that you are with her.  We all need to be there for each other because no one understands like we do.

Part 2 of Becoming Me's PPD Journey

If you read the story last week in Postpartum Progress about the blogger from Becoming Me and her experience with a postpartum mood disorder, you'll want to read part 2.  She writes very beautifully about what it felt like and I know many of you will connect to her journey.

Women Like Us: Poet Anne Sexton Suffered PPD

Did you know? ....  Apparently it is National Poetry Month, and because of this I have become aware that the Pulitzer-Prize-winning poet Anne Sexton suffered from postpartum depression.  Here is a bit of her biography from Poets.org:

"In 1953 she gave birth to a daughter. In 1954 she was diagnosed with postpartum depression, suffered her first mental breakdown, and was admitted to Westwood Lodge, a neuropsychiatric hospital she would repeatedly return to for help. In 1955, following the birth of her second daughter, Sexton suffered another breakdown and was hospitalized again; her children were sent to live with her husband's parents."

After that, Anne began writing poetry, as suggested by her doctor.  (photo credit: Rollie McKenna)

More Mommy Bloggers Share Their PPD Stories

Here is a link to the Becoming Me blog where a mom opens up to share her story about antepartum and postpartum depression. 

And another GREAT PPD story from the Dig Your Toes In blog ... here is a highlight:

For me, PPD looked (looks) like this:

• Feeling off.  Just off.
• Feeling disconnected–from my life, from my kids, from my husband
• Feeling like I’m in a ‘fog.’
• Lacking joy.  Lacking joy in being a Mom, in little things that I normally love, in life in general.
• Guilt, guilt, and more guilt. 
• Just feeling down
• Having my ‘default’ attitude be negative and pessimistic rather than fairly optimistic
• Wanting to run away.  To sleep, to hide, to curl up in a ball.
• Shrinking when my children cried.
• Inability to focus
• “Escaping” often.  To the computer, to phone calls, to books, to anything to get me out of my ‘real life’ and my feelings.
• Snapping at my children very, very easily
• Feeling overwhelmed all the time
• Feeling like no matter what I just couldn’t get it all together.

And a link to the Unfolding... blog and another story about PPD.

Mom Tracy Kennedy's Journey Through Postpartum Depression

Here is a link to an article that just appeared in the Santa Clarita Valley Signal newspaper about Tracy Kennedy, who suffered severe postpartum depression. 

Brazen Careerist Writes About PPD & Working Women

This is a great post from Penelope Trunk of the Brazen Careerist blog.  She writes about experiencing PPD while working, and makes suggestions on what women should know about PPD if they're the breadwinner in the family.  She bravely shares what she went through, including the following:

"Then, one night, the baby was screaming and our three-year-old wouldn’t go to bed and my husband was telling me that I needed to get the three-year-old some milk and I was saying that he should and I’ll get the baby and he rolled his eyes, and then I took a knife out of the dirty dishes and stabbed my head.

I don’t actually remember doing it. I remember my husband saying, 'Oh my god. There’s blood everywhere.'

Here’s how crazy I was: I just put the knife back in the sink and went to get the baby.

Go check out the rest of Penelope's story.

Guest Author: Sarah Pond of mama2mama

Sarah Pond, co-founder of mama2mama in Canada, was kind enough to share with us her story of postpartum depression.  This is a beautifully written story, and a very comprehensive one in which she lists all of her various symptoms.  I don't normally post something this lengthy on Postpartum Progress because I like everything to be easily digestible, but this is worth it.

"The third day after my daughter's birth, a vortex of dark, deafening, and terminally sinister energy swallowed me whole. It sounds dramatic and it was. It overcame me in the car on the way home from the hospital. My baby slept soundly in her carseat, blissfully unaware that her primary caregiver was beginning a freefall into a churning turmoil. I remember commenting to my husband that I was suddenly not feeling too well. An understatement, to be sure.

Every moment after that, I struggled in the teeth of a malevolent beast, while desperately attempting to keep up the appearance of a happy, serene mommy. It felt like a struggle of life and death proportions. I suppose it was.

At the 5 month mark, when sleep deprivation was becoming debilitating, I made an appointment with my (former) family doctor. She gave me the following advice: Get some rest, eat more fatty foods and don't spoil the baby. She neither mentioned PPD nor asked me any relevant questions, nor suggested any resources. The appointment lasted all of six minutes. I timed it.

I kept on going, not following the doctor's advice. At last, on a Saturday afternoon, when my daughter was 7 months old, I crashed hard and ended up at the medical clinic trembling, pale and unable to form a cohesive thought. I hadn't slept at all for three days and nights. I hadn't had more than 3 hours of consecutive sleep for half a year. My husband took our baby to his mother's, drove me to the clinic and insisted that we see somebody NOW. A short time later, I was sitting in front of a very kind, compassionate and helpful doctor, asking him for immediate help. Looking back, I know that I was very close to being hospitalized. Instead, the doctor, bless him, sent me home with three prescriptions: one for an antidepressant, another for a sleep aid, and a final one to do whatever it takes to get some decent sleep.

That night, with a lot of support from my husband and some pumping of milk, I slept for five hours straight. The next night it was six. After an entire week of sleeping "through the night", I was on the road to healing. By the time my baby was 10 months old, I was a new woman.

Recovery has been a path of ups and downs, of good days and bad. But no days have ever come close to the darkest days of all, when my perceptions were distorted by anxiety, fear and sleeplessness. When the primary emotion I felt toward my beautiful child was pity, for having such an inadequate mother. When I felt the hot breath of those notorious black dogs of despair on my throat, heard their hungry snarling, and knew that I was their weakening prey.  These days, pretty much every day is good. Great, even.

I have found a new balance. All the balls I juggle as a mother, a wife, an employee, friend, family member and upstanding citizen are staying miraculously aloft (WooHoo!). I practice self-care and I make it a priority. Most of all I enjoy mothering my little girl as I have never enjoyed anything else. I look at her now and I know that she has a good mother – one who loves her and nurtures her as best she can.

During the worst of it, I tried natural therapies, such as herbal remedies and homeopathy. While these took the edge off the most severe symptoms, it was the antidepressants that ended up saving me. The journey through PPD is unique for each of us and so are the ways we heal. I don't advocate any particular method of finding balance; I simply share my own passage. Until this experience, I was resistant to pharmaceuticals such as antidepressants. Now, I feel fortunate that such drugs are available and that they worked so effectively for me.

The best and most important therapy for me, was reaching out for help. Finding the guts to talk to other mothers about what I was going through opened the doors that lead me to health. It was other mamas who inspired and guided my way.

Now my wish is to do the same.

Some of the symptoms of my postpartum experience were:

Physical

       • Insomnia

       • Jittery, shaky

       • No appetite

       • Weight loss

       • Low milk supply

       • Adrenalin surging constantly

       • "Fight or flight" mode all the time

Mental

       • Inability to turn off my mommy-brain, which was running at 1000 RPM. Like an engine revving way too high in the lowest gear

       • Loud clamoring noise in my head at all times, especially at night when everyone else was asleep

       • Uncontrollable intrusive thoughts of harm coming to my baby (from earthquakes, wild animals, disease, car accidents, intruders, electrocution, drowning, choking, SIDS, etc, etc, etc)

       • Difficulty concentrating or focusing

       • mental fogginess, sluggishness

       • Nightmares

Emotional

       • Anxiety about everything to do with my baby

       • Terrible, awful apprehension when the baby cried

       • Extreme discomfort when I was separated from my baby

       • Feeling certain that I was a terrible mother

       • Fear of harm coming to my baby

       • Fear of dying and my baby being left motherless

       • Exhausting mood swings between the elation and joy of loving my child and despair and anxiety over my perceived inability to care properly for her

       • Anger and resentment towards my husband

       • Guilt, guilt, and more guilt

       • Dread

       • Rage

       • Heartfelt desire to live in a secluded cave with only me and my baby

Behavioral

       • Crying fits

       • Micro-managing everything

       • Not allowing anyone else to care for my baby

       • Not taking any breaks

       • Unable to relax

       • Raging at my husband, up to and including threatening divorce

       • Obsessive coping behaviors, such as counting to 500 while soothing my crying baby

       • Clinging inflexibly to routines

       • Insisting that things to do with the baby be done EXACTLY SO and freaking out when it wasn't

Please reach out for help if you think that you need it. And if you think you MIGHT need it, too.

People Magazine Reports Britney Did Suffer PPD

People.com is now reporting that Britney Spears did in fact suffer from postpartum depression.  Not surprising.  I've been saying all along that it seemed like her life was bumping right along until she had her children, and then there seemed to be a huge change in her demeanor. 

Britney Spears has "suffered from a psychological disease for years," says a source close to the singer.

Two separate sources who are acquaintances of the family believe the singer has never been formally diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but "there is no question she is bipolar ... she's had manic episodes for years" ...

PEOPLE has learned from multiple sources that the singer also suffered from depression after both her pregnancies. "She had postpartum depression after Preston was born," says a source who was close to the family during her marriage to Kevin Federline. "She didn't want anyone's help ... It got worse after Jayden was born" ...

A close family friend says "the tragic thing is that Britney loves her children and would never knowingly put them in harms way. Her mental instability is getting in the way of her making proper judgment and it's extremely unfortunate."

If it is true, the important thing to point out here is how important it is to seek treatment.  A lot of us don't want any help, as the article states about Britney, because we don't want people to know and we don't want to admit that we may need therapy or medication.   And in her case, I can completely understand her reluctance since she knew any problems she had would be shared with the entire world.  But the alternative is SO much worse.  I'd rather admit maybe I'm not the invincible person I thought I was than to descend into a vortex of misery.  Untreated mental illness can become much worse, and have a greater negative impact on the sufferer and everyone around them.  Get past the stigma, get past the fear, get past the disappointment and reach out.  Ask for help.  You and everyone around you will benefit from your courage.

News Roundup on PPD

Story from Bismarck, North Dakota's KFYR-TV on postpartum depression - click here

Story from the National Catholic Reporter on the postpartum experience of Sylvia Lasalandra, author of "A Daughter's Touch" - click here

Another story from the National Catholic Reporter on a new postpartum depression education program for clergy, religious and lay leaders lead by the Archbishop of Newark, NJ - click here

Your Prayers Are Needed For Missing Rhode Island Mom

I have a request for those who are the more spiritual among us:  please pray for the safe return of Katie Corcoran of Rhode Island.  Katie, mother of two boys, has been missing since September 5th.  As I understand it (and I may not have all of the details exactly correct), Katie was suffering from postpartum psychosis and was released from the hospital to a cab instead of to her husband.  The cab took her to a local shelter, but she never went inside and hasn't been heard from in almost a month.  Of course this is terribly concerning.  She is suffering from a very serious mental illness and most likely has no access to medicine or treatment.  We need to send out a collective prayer that she comes to no harm and is found and returned to her family safely.  But for the grace of God, every single one of us could be in exactly her position.

Missing Rhode Island Mother Was Being Treated For PPD

According to an article this past Monday written by Timothy Barmann in the Providence Journal, Katie Corcoran of Lincoln, Rhode Island has been missing since September 5th after leaving a hospital where she was receiving treatment for postpartum depression.  To read the full story, click here.  Below are some highlights:

"Katherine N. 'Katie' Corcoran, 35, of Great Road in Lincoln, was reported missing 19 days ago. On Sept. 5, the married mother of two boys, a 4 year-old and an 8-month-old, left Butler Hospital, where she was receiving treatment for postpartum depression.

The Lincoln police said she took a cab to the Crossroads shelter on Broad Street in Providence, but never went inside. A woman believed to be Katie was sighted in several locations in Newport more than a week ago. But since the last sighting, last Monday, there haven’t been any new leads ...

Asked whether he had any idea why Katie would leave, [Katie's husband] said, 'I don’t think she’s running. She’s suffering from a mental illness. We believe it’s postpartum related.'

He said that she had been seeking treatment for postpartum depression for the past five months. The couple had made plans to go to California to seek additional treatment, he said ...

There are two theories about where Katie might be ... One is that she is still delusional and wandering around somewhere. The other is that she doesn’t want to take her medication and that she’s trying to recover through prayer ...

Corcoran family and friends are offering a $50,000 reward for information that leads to Katie’s return home. Anyone who sees her should not approach her. Rather, they should contact the police. The 24-hour tip line is (401) 439-7988; the Lincoln Police can be contacted at (401) 333-1111."

Guest Author: Aliza Sherman of Babyfruit

Below is a blog post about experiencing postpartum depression that first appeared in Aliza Sherman's Babyfruit blog:

When It Hit Me, It Hit Hard

     I ended up with knock down drag out post partum depression around 4 months [postpartum] but even before that, there were signs.
     Maybe the time I threw a dirty plate from the dinner table up in the air because I was so angry could have been a clue. Or when I screamed at my husband to "give me the baby, you can't keep her from me!" then ran through the house slamming doors and cursing at him to leave me alone. Or the time I ran from the house screaming with the car keys, thinking I'd drive away (where? somewhere, anywhere) and he had to chase after me, wrap his arms around me tightly, lead me back into the house.
     When it hit hard, it wasn't depression in the way I had thought about depression. I wasn't sad. I was angry. I was seething. I was absolutely furious. Everything set me off. In my mind, as long as I didn't want to hurt my baby, then I would be okay. But I didn't think twice about wanting to hurt myself.
     When it looked like I was going to be put on anti-depressants, I couldn't go there. I had heard too many stories about people who went on them and then committed suicide and knowing how sensitive I am to anything I put into my body, I feared that they'd send me over the edge.
     So I turned to a naturopath and in one 2 hour visit, she pinpointed exactly what I needed. She said that the hormone imbalance I was feeling included large amounts of adrenaline and epinephrine pumping into my system sending me into "fight or flight" mode. This definitely explained my state of constant panic. The only way I could describe it was that I was screaming inside, constantly.
     She gave me supplements to help my adrenal glands to not overproduce adrenaline and an amino acid to spray under my tongue when I would start to feel panicky. Within a few days, I felt...as normal as one can feel after having a life changing and body changing event happen at age 41 (having a baby, of course).
     I can't say normal because I'm not who I was before baby. I'm another person, totally changed, and half the time I'm not sure who I am. I've seen a therapist a few times to explore this aspect of motherhood. Nobody told me I would lose my identity and have an identity crisis that would only add to my PPD.
     In the 2 months since I started getting treatments for my PPD, I haven't had any out of control, irrational outbursts. And I'm not screaming inside. When I feel something creeping in, I spray the amino acid under my tongue a few times and then take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I have only had to do that one time in the last 3 weeks.
     I still don't know who I am, although when I went to a friend's birthday party last month with my husband and baby, we had to wear name tags. I put my name, then under it, I wrote "NG's Mom." After the party, I stuck it on the inside of my coat and it is still there, a little worn around the edges, but there to remind me at least who I am in part. I need that reminder.

And here is Aliza's update, as of this month:

     About 5 months after I wrote this blog post, my naturopath sent me to a colleague - a nurse practitioner - who muscle tested me for an antidepressant. She determined that Effexor would be right for me. I started on the lowest dose - 37.5 mg - and immediately - and I mean immediately - felt different. I slept soundly and deeply the first night and woke up the next day refreshed. Within a few days, I felt calmer. The jagged edges of anxiety were smoothing out. Within a week, I felt...like me. Like the me I remembered me to be.
     Because the effects were so immediate and positive, I have remained on the lowest dose and am only supposed to take it for 3 months. Life at home is so much more calm. I feel capable of coping with everything, including being a mom. I'm trying not to worry too much right now about getting off the medication. I'm just enjoying having a normal life, something that I thought I'd never have again.

Guest Author: MommaSteph of MomSquawk

Following is a very honest piece about intrusive thoughts and postpartum obsessive-compulsive disorder, written by MommaSteph, a blogger at Mom Squawk.

I would never put my baby in the dishwasher.

But I've thought about it.

I've thought about putting the baby in all sorts of major household appliances: the washer, dryer, fridge, microwave, oven. I don't have a trash compacter, but if I did, well, that probably would have occurred to me, too.

And I'm not particularly unusual in this regard.

I remember the first time I had a violent intrusive thought about my first baby. It happened shortly after I had brought him home. My brother and his children were just leaving from a visit. I stood at the window holding Henry up and waving goodbye. My brother turned to wave and smile back. And suddenly I thought, "What if I dashed Henry's head against the radiator? How quickly would what happened register on David's face? How quickly could he get in here to get the baby away from me? When would his kids realize what had happened?"

It all occurred to me in a flash. I started to sweat, my heart started to beat quickly, and I moved away from the radiator. I was horrified, ashamed, disgusted, and scared. Was I one of those crazy women? How could I have such an awful thought? And how could I protect my baby?

From there, it just got worse. And I told no one -- how could I? What if they took my baby away?

For the rest of this EXCELLENT article, click here to go to Momsquawk!

Guest Author: Theresa Borchard of Beliefnet

Therese Borchard, who writes the Beyond Blue blog at Beliefnet, shares her postpartum anxiety story with Postpartum Progress today:

   Although I can’t remember a time in my childhood or adolescence that I lived without depression and anxiety, I guess you could say that I officially joined the elite mentally ill club in 1989, my freshman year at Saint Mary’s College in Notre Dame, Indiana, when I went by the Counseling and Career Development Center to inquire about local support groups (I was just a few months sober). One of the therapists politely invited me back.

   A few months later she rattled off a handful of diagnoses: obsessive-compulsive disorder, eating disorder, anxiety disorder, and depression. She strongly suggested antidepressants, but I resisted. Like fellow twelve-steppers, I thought they would compromise my sobriety. And with my Catholic friends and mentors, I regarded them as a crutch and a short cut from the pain that was necessary for spiritual growth.

    “Life doesn’t have to be this hard,” my counselor told me, giving me a copy of Colette Dowling’s book, You Mean I Don’t Have to Feel This Way. A year and a half later, when I was experiencing suicidal thoughts, I finally cried uncle, clinging to the lifeboat (or prescription) God sent me. After a few trial and error experiments, my doctor and I stumbled on the combination of Prozac and Zoloft, which allowed me to concentrate enough to study, and relax enough to tell a dirty joke (one of my favorite things to do).

   Then I got married, in 1996, and made small people (David and Katherine are now 6 and 4). After the two births, my hormones huddled together to ask each other what the hell they were supposed to be doing now that no baby was in the womb or on the breast. My neurotransmitters (the good guys responsible for feelings of well-being) caught an express train to another brain (the one content with instant oatmeal). Brain cells began to shrink (and I suspect croak) in my prefrontal cortex. A tumor grew in my pituitary gland (also in the brain). And I had a bona fide, genuine mental breakdown. There was nothing mini about it.

   I lost twenty 23 pounds (I could wear an Ann Taylor size 2! That was the only perk.) because I had no appetite (this alone signaled a serious crisis, given my love of all things edible), I contracted one urinary tract infection after another because my immune system was breaking down, I breathed into a paper bag every morning during a panic attack, and I trembled and flailed like Linda Blair in the “Exorcist” because my anxiety was so acute.

   Oh yeah, and the endless sobbing: in the deli line at the grocery (“No, it’s not the chicken salad, I just got my period”), in the waiting room at my gynecologist-obstetrician’s office (“I’m sorry, pictures of babies make me cry”), on the hayride at David’s class trip to the pumpkin patch (“I’m allergic to hay”), at Eric’s company dinners (“Please give him a raise”), at Katherine’s physical therapy sessions (“Will she ever walk?”), during sex (“Are you almost done? I have to blow my nose”), in church (twice as hard if we sang “On Eagle’s Wings” or “Be Not Afraid”), and yada yada yada.

   It took two trips to the psych ward, seven different psychiatrists, one endocrinologist, 23 different medication combinations, and several MRIs over two years’  time to get me well again. In other words, I upgraded to the platinum club membership in Club D. Diagnosed with Bipolar II Disorder, I graduated beyond the casual, my-primary-care-physician-can-prescribe-me-my-meds to the critical, regular check-ins with a head doctor.

   Although I have cussed out God too many times to count, asking him what kind of marijuana he was smoking the day he designed my brain, I agree with Kay Redfield Jamison, author of An Unquiet Mind, that “tumultuousness, if coupled with discipline and a cool mind, is not such a bad sort of thing. That unless one wants to live a stunningly boring life, one ought to be on good terms with one's darker side and one's darker energies.”

Surviving Moms, Send Me Your Pics!

The Surviving & Thriving Mothers Photo Album is an online photo album of strong, competent, fabulous mothers who have recovered from postpartum mood disorders.  The women pictured in this album show countless others that you can recover and live a vibrant and happy life.  I am so indebted to all of the moms who have added their pictures, including the most recent mom, Samantha G.  Ladies, if you want to add yourself, please email me a jpeg of you and your child or children to stonecallis@msn.com!!

Postpartum Progress Beacon of Hope: Wendy Davis

I would like to announce our Postpartum Progress Beacon of Hope for May and June (drumroll please): Wendy Davis.  She is as deserving as one could possibly be to be recognized for all her many contributions to the women who suffer perinatal mood disorders.  In addition to maintaining a private practice as a therapist, she has been deeply, deeply involved as a volunteer for many years.  Wendy writes:

"I got a crash course in postpartum mood disorders when I fell into one after the birth of our first child in 1994.  I had no idea there was a name for what I was experiencing; the names I gave it at the time were 'failure' and 'mistake'.  I thought I had just found out that I never should have been a mother.  I couldn't believe that any good mother would feel such crushing dread and hopelessness.  I was sinking fast and isolating myself.  A dear friend convinced me to call a postpartum doula and after much resistance, I called her.  She listened to my quiet request for help with the dishes, and asked me the question that saved my life:  'Have you been depressed or anxious?'  It was enough to open the floodgates and I felt that I was confessing to her.  She came over the next day and sat with me for hours while I cried, leaving me with some excellent articles about PPD and recovery and a promise that she would be back the next day.

"As soon as I understood that I had postpartum depression and anxiety, I was astonished that I had never learned of it.  I had already been a therapist for 14 years and I had never had a class or workshop on the subject.  At first I was angry.  Then I got busy.  I was compelled to learn all I could and to talk to anyone who would listen about postpartum suffering and recovery.  My own experience led me to develop a mom-to-mom support network here in Portland, Oregon, called Baby Blues Connection.  It has been going strong for 12 years now and I am so grateful and proud of having been part of this resource.  I continue to serve as their clinical consultant and coordinate the volunteer training team.

"I also became a member of PSI, and then a support coordinator for Oregon in 1998.  I have seen this organization develop so much, and have become more and more involved.  In 2005, I agreed to be the Coordinator for the Support Coordinators around the world and then I joined the PSI board.  This has been an amazing organization to work with.  The volunteers are passionate, knowledgable and caring and the board members are extremely sensitive and hard-working.  Jane Honikman was a wonderful mentor to me.

"I know that every voice of truth can make change for the better, and that it doesn't take that much for women and their partners to feel heard, acknowledged and cared for.  I know that PSI's advocacy will make a difference in the lives of mothers, their partners and their children.  I remember how much it helped me to have people around who knew what I was going through, who encouraged me when I wanted to give up and who trusted in me.  I adore my son and my daughter (after whose birth I had no PPD) and I just wish that I had been able to see that I  was bonding with my son all along.

Wendy's volunteer work also includes writing magazine articles, as well as appearing on documentaries, radio shows and local news reports providing her expert opinion and commentary.  She is also a frequent public speaker, AND, she was pleased to be asked by the Oregon Department of Health & Human Services to write a page on perinatal mood disorders for a booklet given to all new moms in Oregon.

She is proud that she spoke up with honesty and heart, and that she is able to provide a picture of hope to others.  She is also very proud of the work she has done nurturing new volunteers, and being able to connect frightened moms and their families and friends with so many resources around the world.  She is a perfect example of the power of speaking up, of working together with people and asking for help.

Her biggest concern these days is that people have too much of a little information, and become afraid that PPD is always dangerous.  (Thanks in part, I think, to the sensationalization of TV news and the tendency for them to only discuss perinatal mood disorders when there is an infanticide).  She says this is part of what causes women to feel panicky and suicidal.  She wants people to know that these illnesses are always treatable.  She would ultimately like to see pregnancy and postpartum mood disorders discussed in 6th grade health class, and revisited in childbirth education classes and providers' offices.  She wants people to understand that symptoms of depression, anxiety, mania and psychosis are common, treatable and faultless.

"I want people to understand what my son understood when he was only 10.  He got on the phone with my friend who had just had a baby, and said to her in the most sweet and loving voice, 'If you are having any sad or bad feelings, that is okay.  And just remember, when you think you're not being a good mom, you usually are.'  I was very, very proud of him and of all the work we have done."

Wendy, you are a wonderful and clearly loving human being and we are lucky that you are one of us and have dedicated so much of yourself to our cause.  Congratulations!!

New Blog Tracks Pregnancy for PPOCD Survivor

Lauren Hale, the PSI co-coordinator for the state of Georgia, has started a blog in which she will write about her current pregnancy.  This is her third, it was unexpected, and she has already experienced PPOCD twice with her first two children.  If you'd like to follow along, go to www.unexpectedblessing.wordpress.com.

Postpartum Progress Beacon of Hope: Mary Jo Codey

Announcing the Postpartum Progress Beacon of Hope for March 2007 (drumroll please) ... Mary Jo Codey!!!!  If you haven't heard about the impact the former first lady of New Jersey has had on the issue of postpartum mood disorders, then you've missed a LOT!! 

Mary Jo Codey was first introduced to postpartum mood disorders 22 years ago after she experienced PPD with the birth of her son Kevin.  Prior to that, she had no idea that PPD even existed or that she might be at risk.  She also went through PPD again four years later with her second son, Christopher.  Even though she had all the signs of PPD, no one seemed to know what was wrong with her.  She checked herself into a mental institution for a month but found no help there.  Eventually she began to see a psychiatrist who did know about PPD and was able to help Mary Jo.  She began to experience scary, intrusive thoughts about hurting her son.  For months she worked with the psychiatrist tying different antidepressants, but the intrusive thoughts increased until she finally decided to "just end it all".  Fortunately, the psychiatrist had decided to try an MAO inhibitor as a last-ditch effort, and within a few weeks the intrusive thoughts began to decrease and finally disappear.  All in all, it took a year for Mary Jo to get better. 

She became angry, as so many of us do, that it took so long for her to get the help she needed, and that until then no one recognized the signs.  She realized that people needed to know and care about this disorder, and she didn't want anyone else to have to go through the self-blame and shame she experienced.  To that end, she became an advocate extraordinaire.  She has publicly shared her story with a wide variety of audiences, from health care and mental health professionals, to women's groups, PPD support groups, the general public and the media.  During her husband's tenure as governor, New Jersey created a comprehensive awareness campaign called "Recognizing Postpartum Depression: Speak Up When You're Down".  The campaign -- which made New Jersey the first state to commit resources to uninsured new mothers for PPD screenings and treatment -- features a 24/7 helpline and a bilingual website with valuable information and contacts for women and their families, as well as for medical professionals.  The campaign includes literature and radio and TV PSAs.  Mary Jo is very proud to be the spokesperson for that campaign, and was instrumental in its development.   

Of all the work she has done, she is most proud of New Jersey's Postpartum Depression Screening and Education law, which took effect in October 2006 and is an outgrowth of the efforts that began during her husband's administration.  Now every pregnant woman in New Jersey is educated about maternal mood disorders before giving birth; the mother of every baby born in the state will be screened for postpartum depression; and all licensed health care professionals who provide pre- and post-natal care will be educated about maternal depression.  There is a budget of $4.5 million for education and screening.

As for the future, most of all Mary Jo wishes for New Jersey's law to become national law.  The MOTHERs Act is actually based on the New Jersey law and is soon to be reintroduced in the Senate.  She says it's time for it to come out of committee and get passed!!

Her biggest concern is that too many women are slipping through the cracks and going untreated.  PPD is one of the most common complications of pregnancy, and progress is being made on raising awareness and increasing screening, she says.  But the latest study published by JAMA shows we need to do more.  There are lives at risk, she explains, and we owe it to women and their families to provide more education, screening, treatment and support.

Thank you, thank you Mary Jo Codey for your willingness to speak out, your courage, your honesty and most of all for your commitment to women like us!  You are definitely a Beacon of Hope!

Profoundly Alone: The Disconnection of Postpartum Depression

When you suffer from a postpartum mood disorder, you walk around in a haze while trying to seem as normal as possible.  You try to make yourself feel as connected as you can to your child and those around you.  Perhaps your dearest friends and family can tell that you don't seem like yourself, but then they just brush it off as normal baby blues.  And you soldier on, trying to pretend -- sometimes successfully, sometimes not so successfully -- that everything is cool.

When my son was a little over two months old and I was in the throes of postpartum obsessive-compulsive disorder I tried to host a ladies' luncheon at my house.  It was mid-December, and I guess I thought it would make me feel better to have a half-dozen women over and make them a nice little Christmas lunch.  I decorated the house.  I made goat cheese salad and butternut squash soup and little lemon tarts with sugared blueberries for dessert.

When the women came over, I'll never forget having one of the oddest feelings I've ever had.  I felt like I was inside of a bubble.  Or like I was hovering over the party watching it but that my guests couldn't see or hear me.  I was shocked out how disconnected I felt from the world, and it seemed like it didn't really matter whether I was there or not.  I tried to make small talk, but it seemed like the sentences just didn't come out right and that I wasn't making any sense -- it was almost like the air had been replaced by water that blurred my vision and muffled my sound.  Everyone seemed to have a great time, and they were chatting and eating away.  I kept trying to connect with them, to feel present, but no matter what I did it didn't work. 

To this day, I don't think they had any idea what I was thinking or feeling.  They seemed to have a lovely time.  After everyone had left and my son went down for a nap, I remember laying down on the couch in my family room and sobbing.  I had tried to do something to make myself feel better, to be a part of the world, and it only broke my heart.  I tried to be close to others and it only made me feel further apart.

One of the truly awful feelings you experience during postpartum mood disorders is that sense of disconnection from the world, from your friends and family, from your baby, and most of all, from yourself.  I felt so deeply, deeply alone. 

Profoundly alone.

This is why it's so hard for us to say anything.  We're ashamed, of course.  But we're also disconnected.  I didn't think anyone would hear me, or believe me, or perhaps even care.  I didn't even have myself to talk to anymore.  Myself had up and left and this new person I had become was clearly NOT my friend.  I had lost my ability to speak clearly and calmly and with reason.  I felt like I couldn't even communicate love to my own child.  How could I have been expected to understandably explain THIS?

I hope the people we love can try to understand why it is so easy for us to turn away.  It's much easier to run and hide, or give up, than to try and speak through the cement wall that life just erected between us and the world.  We try our best, but you may have to fill in the blanks for us until we find our words, and ourselves, again.