We are searching data for your request:
Upon completion, a link will appear to access the found materials.
I see you. You might not think I did.
I try to imagine what you endured. Never saying a word of complaint.
I recognize all you did to get me where I am today. To get us here.
We thought we’d just be tired. That exhaustion would be the biggest of our problems once our son was born. Neither of us expected that I’d be gripped – no, controlled – by my postpartum depression. It was supposed to be the happiest time of our lives, not the living nightmare it soon became.
It started slowly, do you remember? We thought I was tired. That my hormones were adjusting yet again. But before we knew it I was underwater. The progression from healthy to dangerous transpired within days once that beast took hold of me.
How did you do it? We had a newborn. No idea what to do with him. You carried that aspirator in your back pocket at all times “just in case.” And while we watched him sleep for fear something would happen if one of us closed our eyes, I began losing my fight.
Yet you continued on.
I started to slip away. I wanted to leave, convinced you both would be better off without me. You held me when I needed it. Let me run into the street to scream, then greeted me at the door with a warm blanket and tea when I returned. Researched treatment. Medications. Called my doctor and hid my car keys when things got dark.
You also got up every morning and went to work. Held things together for us financially. All while receiving frantic calls from me. Coming home between meetings, at lunch. To check on us.
There was no guidebook for you. No one you could call to ask questions on how to handle the situation. I was wrapped in the support I found online from other mom’s with postpartum depression. But what did you have? No men on social media were presenting themselves as the husbands of women with PPD. You had nowhere to turn.
There are resources for PPD. Help. But no one can really tell you how to live through it. It felt as if we were thrust into a new universe, one that spoke an entirely different language. My mind started lying to me and my will to live was faltering. Our coping skills were stripped away and we had to find a way to survive. I needed to be healthy again.
You kept going, for all of us. Trusted your instincts and did the best you could. Yes, there were moments when I was angry over the things you said or did. But today I see that it was in my best interest. You always tried to help.
Even when I screamed at you and said horrible things. Threatened to walk out of your life because I was convinced you deserved better than a sick wife. You never gave up.
You should be proud of yourself and recognize all you did. I’m proud of you. And grateful you stayed by my side. I’ll never forget sitting on the kitchen floor, crying to you as I said, “I’m crazy.” You kissed me and said, “then I guess I’m crazy, too.” Our tears turned to laughter and I knew I’d never be alone.
We survived and our marriage is actually stronger today because of all we endured. You held it together so that I could fall apart safely. And then build myself back up again.
Yes, I spoke up. Got help. Worked on myself, started taking medication. But it would have been much harder without you by my side.
I know you suffered. Were scared. And probably angry, frustrated and hopeless at times. But I never saw that. I only felt loved and supported.
Thank you for everything. I see you and what you did for me and our family. And I’ll never forget.
If you think you may be suffering from postpartum depression, don’t wonder. Speak up. Talk to you doctor, partner, family and friends. If you are scared or worried about the stigma (I get it… we shouldn’t be concerned about that but of course we often are) and would rather talk to someone outside of your circle, you can call Postpartum Support International at 1.800.944.4773. If you just need a fellow mom to validate you and listen to your fears, find me on Instagram and reach out.
Anxious, overwhelmed, unhappy, or scared by how you feel? If you’re struggling emotionally, you could be depressed. Take this 10-question quiz to find out.
For more mom moments, follow me on Instagram at Witty Otter.
Images by Becky Vieira
Opinions expressed by parent contributors are their own.