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My name is Julie Harnick. I’m a mother of two, an active PRC member and have served on its Parent Board as the PRC’s treasurer for some five years. I want to share my personal experience with postpartum depression in the hope that it might help you or others facing it.
When I speak my postpartum depression, I always refer to it as the “made for TV movie” kind. I do that not to make light of it, but to bring to mind the seriousness of the mood disorder. I didn’t have the “blues;” I had the clinical type. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I had a fairly straightforward pregnancy. Labor was induced when the baby’s heart rate accelerated after contractions. Some Pitocin, an epidural, four hours and four pushes later, my Jocelyn Belle was born. I was ecstatic that it was a girl. Delivery was 6 a.m. on September 4, 1994 and we were discharged the next day.
The first day home in Brooklyn was fine, but that night Jocelyn started making snorting sounds. No one at the hospital or any of the books mentioned that in the first days, some babies still have to clear some gunk from their nasal passages. No one says to you, “so, if the baby sounds like it’s choking or snorting like a hog, don’t worry; it’s normal…no, she’s not having a severe allergic reaction to your cats.” Which is, of course, what I thought was happening. I had my husband, Bob, up all night looking through every book we owned for information about allergies to cats in infancy. Let me tell you, Dr. Spock doesn’t discuss it.
Compelled by our ignorance and sleep deprivation, we hired a round-the-clock baby nurse for a week-long stay. Precious Sterling arrived the next morning and she was fabulous, which was a good thing because my depression had begun to show its ugly face.
Although we had Precious to care for Jocelyn, I didn’t want Bob to leave the house. I felt I couldn’t function without him. I would cry hysterically when he went to work. After three days of this, I called my OB/GYN and told her I wasn’t well. She said to hold out for another few days. I called again the following day and said I needed help. I related that I was in tears most of the time and could not handle things. She referred me to a psychiatrist who saw me immediately and prescribed Paxil, an anti-depressant requiring a six-month protocol. What choice did I have? During that time, I held, fed and changed Jocelyn; I rocked her and fell asleep with her, but I was not her primary caregiver. I was more like a helpful aunt.
The gist of “postpartum depression” is depression. I think the vast majority of people get it wrong because “postpartum” is attached to the word. This isn’t a joke. It isn’t “blues” and you don’t feel “sad.” I felt like taking pills so I wouldn’t wake up in the morning - or ever again. I saw myself in a 15-foot pit with no way out. I had flashes of wanting to hurt my beautiful baby.
These feelings are typical of this form of depression, which researchers have alternatively and collectively attributed to hormonal imbalances, alteration in brain chemistry, stress and isolation. However, the way the disorder presents itself is so varied that it often goes undetected or misdiagnosed. I was fortunate to find knowledgeable and understanding medical professionals who recognized what I had.
You’re probably wondering how the people in my life were acting or reacting to all this. Honestly, I think Bob was in shock. He saw his wife, whom he knew to be capable and loving and wanting so badly to be a mom, crumbling before his eyes. But, he was 150% supportive and advocated for me with doctors and relatives. I asked Bob daily how he could stay married to me knowing that I was such a bad mother. He constantly reassured me of my actual goodness. Bob saved my life in the two weeks before the medication took affect. Had he not stayed home with me most of those first days, I’m not sure I would have lived.
The rest of my family was supportive in the way people who don’t experience the agony first-hand can be. While my mom didn’t talk about it, she paid for the baby nurse. My dad was loving but clueless. My siblings expressed support, but were hundreds of miles away. I saw a few friends, but the pain was too intense for me to even talk about. I thought I was evil and didn’t want them to know.
One day, after about two weeks, I woke up without wishing I hadn’t. I was mending. Day by day I was feeling stronger. Around one month later, I was feeling well. The only down side to the Paxil for me was that it acted as an emotional leveler. I didn’t feel the downs, but I also didn’t feel the ups. In this case, it was an easy trade-off.
Bob and I waited close to five years to have another child. He was afraid of a repeat performance. I can’t blame him. My memory tends to be very short for unpleasant things. Having read up on postpartum depression by then, I knew that the likelihood of recurrence was very high. Fortunately, throughout my pregnancy we were living in Port Washington and I was safely ensconced in my security blanket of friends at the PRC. As for other measures, I informed my new OB/GYN of my past depression and reserved a baby nurse well in advance of my due date.
Justin was born on April 24, 1999. I was a bit shaky and teary in the following days, but I had the confidence gained from living through the first bout of depression and I had my neighbors, friends and my PRC. In fact, at the time of delivery, I was enrolled in an adult PRC class called “Taking Care of Ourselves.” There, I met women I now consider my closest friends. These people and the class took care of me and I managed my way through without any recurrent depression.
In hindsight, my experience with postpartum depression and avoiding its recurrence taught me that wellbeing in motherhood is a “community business.” While it’s essential to get professional help when needed, this type of sisterhood is also invaluable. At the PRC, I have my family of mothers – smart, loving women who hear me out, give advice and support me with no strings attached. Here at the PRC, my PRC, I’m not alone. Nor will I ever be.
I encourage anyone who is experiencing
depression after giving birth, or knows someone who is,
to seek professional help and support. Here are some valuable
resources: The Mental Health Association of Nassau County, www.mhanc.org;
516-489-2322; Postpartum Support International, www.postpartum.net;
Depression after Delivery, Inc., www.depressionafterdelivery.com;
1-800-944-4773.