Postpartum depression | Imprint on my life
This blog is just not my memories pouring out but a cry coming straight out of the depths of my soul, but to share my hellish experience with other women who are going through a harrowing time due to PPD. It is about Postpartum depression | Imprint on my life.
‘This post is part of Blogchatter’s CauseAChatter’
About Postpartum Depression
Almost 20% of women are affected by postpartum depression and it is an illness just like a common cold is! But the sad news is most people educated or uneducated, rich or poor are not aware that it can be treated. I wish I knew how to increase awareness about it. Also, help those women who are suffering from it. And the good news is that it is temporary and does have a cure.
I grew up in a fairy-tale world I had created in my mind and thought that life would be just like Hans Christian Andersen describes in his fairy tales. Marriage at 19 was a rude shock to handle; becoming a mom in the same year had mixed feelings of excitement and nervousness about having a baby at that point of time.
Media and Motherhood Glorified
There is one thing that rankles me most as to how motherhood is depicted in books, and in advertisements everywhere. All rosy and picture-perfect with the baby gurgling away happily; and the mom smiling and prim and proper in her new avatar of a mom. I feel that the media should not be showing just the white, as grey and black to have a significant role to play. Every mom to be should be prepared for a major and I again stress …on a MAJOR change; in your routine and your whole life is going to become topsy turvy and the sleepless nights and a colicky baby to boot along with the 24/7 being on call. Yes, I know motherhood is THE perfect and best part of my life, and my baby was no less loved than any other. But I wish I were prepared and aware of all this. Now, one has so many mom-blogger experiences to read, the internet and awareness to bank on for any kind of info on pregnancy and how to deal with being a mom.
I was looking forward to the birth of my first child and all my thoughts were of the perfect mother that I would be with a chubby and cutest baby in the world in my arms. I was scrawny when I was married weighing just 84 pounds and was teased by one and all that I would give birth to a wet rat!! But then I have always proved people wrong about everything I did! I gave birth to a rather heavy baby of 8.5 pounds baby. He came into this world on a very rainy day and by a very primitive and painful C-section.
Maybe I was too weak to have a baby and having an inverted pelvis I had to go for a C-section which took its toll. Sadly my gynaecologist could not do the surgery as she was suffering from a heart condition and I came to know much later that the doc who actually did the surgery was not even a surgeon!
My Son, my First-born
My son was a chubby and cutest bundle of joy and I wanted to hold him close but the pain of the sutures and the bilaady 10 saline bottles in 2 days were an obstruction. I was helped to sit upon the third day when I first took him in my arms and held him close. The eight days in the hospital were real torture…the smell of disinfectants and the gloomy ambience ( I was in a single AC room but still) added to my misery.
When we went home my baby whom I named Kunvar (which means prince, my own little prince)) was the object of attention for the whole family. But it was a rude awakening for me when my much-loved baby turned out to be colicky; cried all evening till late in the night and slept only when the first rays of dawn was breaking. I used to sit up and rock him all night while my husband, tired from his work took solace in blissful sleep. Other than this all was fine until a month after he was born and then came the holocaust.
Signs of Distress
Suddenly from a bubbly young mom, I became a bundle of nerves, weepy, scared and completely contradictory of what I actually was. It was like I was playing the roles of a female Dr Jekyl and Mr Hyde. My poor husband and my family had no clue what was wrong with me. Either I was going mad or it was some kind of witchcraft I was under. I suffered like this for almost six whole months before I was normal again. Thirty years ago there was no Google to type in the symptoms and know what the illness was and the remedy for it. I went into a cocoon filled with fear and misery not knowing that what I needed was medical help.
But when I was fine I forgot the trauma thinking it was a bad dream and got into the most lovable role of a mom; revelled on seeing my son crawling on his knees and taking his first wobbly steps into the world.
Five years went by like a dream, and everything seemed rosy like I thought it would, but the wicked monster of depression again reared its ugly head ……..to be contd.