My Journey Through Postpartum Depression: A Story of Struggle and Strength

My Journey Through Postpartum Depression: A Story of Struggle and Strength

When I opened our prayer request, I didn't know I would be flooded with prayer request about Postpartum depression. Being Vulnerable isn't always my strong suit. However, I feel like when we open up about our story you give women the safe place to open up about their struggles. You're in a safe place. Your story is heard. I hope my story helps you feel a little less alone. 

Becoming a mother was supposed to be the most beautiful chapter of my life. I remember daydreaming during pregnancy, imagining how I’d be the best version of myself for my baby. But what I never expected was how dark things could become. 

The moment Harper was born should have been one of the most significant in my life, but instead, I can barely remember it. I lost so much blood during delivery that everything afterward felt like a blur. Even my Mother and Law and Father and Law came to the hospital, I so wish I remembered their look of seeing their grand daughter for the first time. I have pictures, but I didn't mentally witness it.  I didn’t have that picture-perfect moment where I held her for the first time, gazing into her eyes. I didn’t remember her first cries. That loss, on top of the physical exhaustion, was a shock to my system. However I didn't feel bad at all the first several months, I slept better than when I was pregnant. I felt on top of this world and after 3 weeks of healing from an emergency c section I was ready to jump back into work. (I literally felt that good). Now that I look back, I think I just needed out of the house, I needed to feel "normal" again. DONT DO WHAT I DID LOL 

What I didn’t realize was that my struggle would truly begin around 6-7 months postpartum. When Harper started to wean from breastfeeding, my body went through a huge hormonal shift again, and I felt like I was losing my grip. Suddenly, I wasn’t just dealing with the usual exhaustion and new-parent worries—I was drowning in feelings of sadness, paranoia, and rage. It was like a storm hit, and I couldn’t escape it.

Every little thing seemed to set me off. I would cry over nothing at all. I felt angry all the time, snapping over things that never would have bothered me before. Gosh I was angry at myself for feeling so angry, I had this sweet little baby girl who just wanted to play and cuddle with her mama and I struggled to give her my all. The worst part was the paranoia, driving home I kept thinking cars were following us (I knew they weren't I remember saying "Alexis, your crazy, that car is not following you. Your safe.")

I was constantly afraid something bad would happen I felt like that I wasn’t doing enough or wasn’t a good enough mother. I feared people were judging me, and I felt so disconnected from Harper, like I was failing her. It got to the point that I feared if I told anyone how I was feeling they would take my daughter. I was that afraid to talk about my depression and anxiety that I would rather suffer alone.  There were moments when I thought I was losing my mind. I didn’t feel like myself anymore, and I didn’t know how to ask for help. I remember the words from my old boss after telling him I was struggling him saying. "You don't shine like you used to, you used to light up a room when you entered." I agreed, I didn't feel bright or like myself anymore. He said the words I was feeling and didn't know how to put into words until that moment. 

I felt so ashamed for struggling when I was supposed to be enjoying motherhood. I had this idea that I should be able to handle it all, that asking for help would make me look weak. But as the weeks went on, I realized that I couldn’t go on like this. I remember calling my doctor in tears, oh the peace she gave me when she said your ok. Were gonna help you. At the end of the day, I needed help to get through. Admitting that I wasn’t okay was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but it was also the most important. Once I reached out for support, things slowly started to change. With therapy and the love of those close to me, I began to feel like myself again. I learned that it’s okay to ask for help. It doesn’t make you weak—it makes you strong.

If you’re reading this and feeling any of the things I felt, I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for help. Don’t be afraid to reach out to someone, whether it’s a friend, family member, or a professional. You don’t have to go through it alone, and there’s no shame in needing support. Motherhood is hard, and it’s okay to not be okay sometimes. What matters is that you find the help you need to heal. 

Today I feel bright again, I am enjoying watching my little girl grow and take her first steps. She talks ALL THE TIME and is my little social butterfly. <3 

 

You will get through this friend. I promise you, even if in the moment it doesn't feel like it. Your needed, your valued, your loved, and if no one told you today, I love you. This world needs you. 

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