My Year's Secret

I feel the need to write this post. It may explain a lot of things to a lot of people, but I need to do it for me.

Though I may not mention your name or the extent to which you've helped me please know that it does not go unnoticed the thoughtful acts and words that have been spoken. I appreciate every listening ear, cookie, hug, testimony and desire to share information. Even at times when I have chosen to not read something or not pick up the phone I know that it has all been out of love for me.

I'm a bit nervous to write this, so here it goes...

At this time and for the past year I have struggled with Postpartum Psychosis. It's an extremely rare condition but very serious. Here is a definition about it:

Postpartum psychosis: A very serious mental illness that can affect a new mother. The episode of psychosis usually begins within 1 to 3 months of delivery. A woman with postpartum psychosis may lose touch with reality and have auditory hallucinations (hearing things that are not actually happening, like a person talking) and delusions (perceiving things differently from the way they are). Visual hallucinations ((seeing things that are not there) are less common. Other symptoms may include insomnia, agitation, anger, and irrational guilt about somehow having done something wrong. Women who have postpartum psychosis need prompt treatment and almost always need medication.

I have been receiving treatment for it, although it's been very difficult to find what works for me. My team of doctors are continuing to help me the best they can. I imagine that some of you may want to talk and at this time it is sometimes easier than others to talk on the phone but please email me if you would like, tiffsue383 at hotmail dot com.

So, in shorter than a year's time, here's my story...

I gave birth to Abigail and although things didn't go 'smoothly' I felt great about my birthing experience. I decided that I wanted to take a small dose of antidepressants as soon as she was born in hopes to ward off any postpartum depression.

Abigail had a tough beginning and there were a lot of trips to the doctor's office and tests done. As a mother this made me sad but not depressed. I was so happy to have my baby girl. I felt absolutely wonderful. It's hard to put into words how blissful it was having Dan and our two little babies.

Almost exactly two months after Abigail's birth it was as if my mind just flipped 180 degrees. I knew I was going downhill and I knew I was headed there fast. I called my OB and asked her to up my antidepressants for me and then I called the local mental health office and made appointments as soon as I possibly could.

The medications that were available for me to take were limited, as I really really wanted to nurse Abigail and I wasn't ready to give that up yet. I continued taking what was available and seeing a counselor under the diagnosis of postpartum depression and post traumatic stress disorder.

At this time I don't have a specific story to share about Dan because he was just there. He was a constant helping the best he knew how, even though he didn't always know how.

Makyra was my little angel sent from Heaven. I recall a day when I was just worn. I put on a show for her to watch and she sat on the floor in front of me. Silently I let the tears come in hopes that she wouldn't notice. But her little spirit is the most compassionate loving thing that she turned around with tears in her own eyes and told me it was OK and not to cry. She gives me hugs and brings me flowers - just at the right time. She is just a bundle of love and laughter.

It's hard not to smile when Makyra's around but there were many days when I just couldn't 'connect' to her. Like my soul was isolated inside this barrier and I couldn't reach through and just feel her. I couldn't feel a lot of people, it was very lonely inside of myself, with horrible thoughts that wouldn't stop. Yet there was one person that saved me. Abigail.

She needed me so much. She felt my presence leave the room. She always knew exactly where I was. Her eyes would bore into my soul and I felt someone there. I could touch her new skin and feel her. She sweetly existed in a world that was so twisted and wrong inside my mind. She was just there. For months she was the reason I could stay at least a little in the reality of this world. She would smile or lay her head on my shoulder and just sleep. She was just a baby doing baby things but God, in all His wisdom, knew we needed one another. She was sick a lot and needed to be held and taken special care of and I needed someone that demand that I stay with them and they didn't lose sight of me. There were hard days. Days when she just wouldn't stop crying no matter what. Days when I thought I would break. But God always sent in those neighbors and family members to get us through.

I love my little AbbyAnn. I don't know that I will ever be able to explain to her or the rest of the world the gift that she is to me, and how much she saved my life through the Hell of each day.

It wasn't until recently that my postpartum psychosis was pinpoint. It affects 1-2 out of every 1000 moms, so it just wasn't something that was thought of when you mixed in my PTSD symptoms. Now everything makes sense. It fits perfectly into the thoughts and reasonings that I couldn't explain in words, except maybe one; Hell.

It's Hell (and I don't use that word lightly). It feels as if Satan and I are on a full out war against one another. Dozens of times a day pictures and thoughts (for lack of better words to explain them besides hallucinations and delusions) would enter my mind. I felt no control over them. I felt helpless towards it all. I would put on a face, and act as if things were OK, or just that I got little sleep because of the baby (which was true too).

Every day and every night I had these. I wouldn't even know that it was possible to NOT have such a mind body experience except that I am on a strong enough medication right now that I don't get them like I did before. I'm not going to write what the thoughts were because they are graphic, disturbing, and revolting.

It came to a point a couple months ago where I was willing to stop nursing Abby so that I could take stronger meds. Transition to these is still a process that I'm working through and it seems to take forever, but I know that it will make a difference because it has started to slowly (very slowly) change things inside of me.

Some days I get mad because I feel like I didn't sign up for this fight. Maybe I could've fought it for a couple weeks, but not a year. I know that the only way I've been able to fight this long is through God's grace. Through the angels of His that have supported me and helped me through it all. I have survived a year of a severe mental illness under the impression that it was a very real but frequent response to having a child. I still feel like I'm going to crumble to pieces at any moment but as weak as I feel I believe that I've had great strength given to me to make it this far.