Disclaimer:
As much as you might want Postpartum Depression to, please refrain from passing judgment on Theo or me after reading this. You could be moved to suggest probiotics, lavender, cut down dairy, or ask if I’ve looked into X. Please refrain. Because 1) nothing can be useful in the past, and 2) I spent months living in this reality. After reading about my experience, I can assure you that I did think about it as well. We investigated everything. We checked everything. For months, doctors, naturopaths, and infant chiropractors came and went from our life. We both had nothing “wrong” with us (fortunately or unfortunately, Postpartum Depression on how you see it, ha-ha). Simply put, this was a bad chapter in our life, and we are relieved to be through it.
Keep in mind that I’m feeling a lot better at the time of writing this piece.
During the worst of it
Do you enjoy being a mother? I first heard about this five weeks after giving birth. I feigned a grin at the barista and said, “Sure,” before heading home with my constantly-wailing new baby. Later on, in the same week, I sent my husband to watch Theo while I went outside for some fresh air. Except for one car rushing down the street, I was on, the Postpartum Depression streets were deserted. I momentarily entertained the notion that I might “accidentally” get hit if I timed my steps precisely. No, it’s not that bad—I wasn’t afraid I could die—but just a little. Like, just enough to require a brief hospital stay for me. There would at least be silence, right? And while I wish I could focus on just one instance when I felt wholly unqualified to be Theo’s mother, those thoughts followed me around 24 hours a day for several weeks.
So, after five weeks, how can I even react to a question like, “So, do you love being a mom?” that is both innocent and loaded? We can’t expect strangers to foresee and respond appropriately, so I wasn’t offended when she inquired react to our internal struggles. But I was slain by this inquiry. My spouse articulately stated that asking me this after five weeks is comparable to asking someone who recently resigned from their job to launch a business whether it was worthwhile. How is it possible that you already know the response to it? It’s just getting started!Types of Depression
HOW DOES COLIC FEEL?
crying or fussiness that is “frequent, protracted, and intense in an otherwise healthy newborn.” And if you’re saying to yourself, “Well, babies cry! And no. A typical newborn does occasionally cry out for no apparent reason. No matter the infant, there will always be a small amount of that because it’s just their way of adjusting to a new situation. An infant with colic cries at least three days a week for at least three hours a week, for at least 3 consecutive weeks.
Up until he was approximately 4 months old, our kid sobbed virtually constantly during the day at a level of intensity that left us shaking every morning before dawn. We were constantly tense and exhausted, and I’m not exaggerating.
The cries of newborns are the kind that should prompt you to take immediate action. It is startlingly loud and piercingly high. Fun fact: A newborn’s cry can be as loud as a machine gun at 130 decibels. Normal conversation is roughly 50 dB loud, whereas the pain threshold is 120 decibels. This intensity is biological, intelligent, and indicative of how they would survive if left alone.
We visited three different pediatricians since we were sure there was a problem, but each one of them confirmed that he was well and that the issues were “developmental” and “colic.” And everyone we talked to indicated that it disappears within three months. Hold on to hope! “3 months!” We can therefore imagine how much deeper I fell into the depressive quicksand when we hit the magical 3-month mark and little had changed. More of the same was present.