Author: Joanne

(Photo By Angela Baron Photographer)

The first person to ever ask me if I had ever had any issue with post partum depression or anxiety was my hairdresser. It’s seems kind of unbelievable really, especially considering she asked me this question just this past weekend and my youngest is already two years old. So, how is it that no one ever checked in or flat out asked me this before?

We all know just how taboo mental health topics can be to openly talk that and too often we feel a bit uncomfortable asking the people in our lives the nitty gritty on how they are coping. We tend to assume our friends and family will feel comfortable enough to ask for help if they are having a hard time. However, in real life, this is far from the truth.

Right after I had Elisabeth I sunk into a weird unexpected cycle of feeling anxious. I never had any post partum depression or anxiety with the other two babies and to my intellectual brain it did not make sense. I had a healthy baby in my arms and she was my third baby, I knew how to mother a newborn. I’m sure the high risk pregnancy, crazy delivery and NICU experience all played a role in my post partum anxiety but truly post partum anxiety can target any new mum.

This hot prickly feeling of anxiety crept into my daily life as soon as I got home from the hospital. I should have been relieved that the pregnancy was over and that I was home with my new baby. Instead, the happiness and relief of that was not enough to carry me through all of the feelings of anxiousness.

One of the ways that I felt more in control and safe was being with the baby in my bedroom. We set up camp in my bed and I could actually feel tiny moments of bliss and happiness, it was definitely how I coped and survived this time in my life. However, if you asked me to do something that required getting out of the apartment, I turned into this uncertain sweaty anxious person with a whirlwind of thoughts.

When Elisabeth was about five weeks old my sister took my older kids over to Victoria to go and see family. It was all great until it was time to arrange bringing the kids back home. The plan was for me to meet up so I could go get them and drive them back home. At first I faked it and thought if I pushed myself enough I would get over the fear of leaving my bedroom, leaving the city and driving with the tiny baby to go and pick up the other kids. It was about a 45 minute drive away and the thought of having to do it made me feel physically sick.

It’s a drive I’ve done many times before and logically it did not make sense why it made me feel as upset as it did. That’s anxiety for you, it is totally not a logical process. I was worried about putting our very tiny baby into a car seat, I was worried about driving while feeling so tired, I was worried she might cry the whole drive. I convinced myself that she could stop breathing in her car seat and I even let myself ‘go there’ and envisioned getting out of the car and finding that she had stopped breathing.

Eventually my sister offered to bring the kids back home to me and I went from feeling totally ridiculous with all of my thoughts to feeling a sense of calm. I could stay in my bedroom, on my bed, with my tiny baby and we would be okay. I could stop having to constantly process the ‘what ifs’ that were totally illogical but still swarmed my mind. Things that I had done with my other kids when they were babies just felt like too much this time around. Everything felt scary.

It was even too much for me to make the six week post partum check up with my obstetrician. Instead, I just kept telling myself that I’d eventually book it. Months went by and I could never bring myself to make that appointment. It felt like getting there was this huge mountain and there was no way I could arrange care for the big kids, take the baby and make it work. However, as expected from a busy medical practice, there was no call to check up on me or see if I was okay. Eventually I was totally off the office radar but not going didn’t help my feelings of anxiety. Instead, I’m sure it made it worse.

Anxiety is a complex beast, it is completely controlling of your daily life. It steals your joy and your sense of self. The idea that something bad is about to happen all the time is utterly exhausting. Things that used to make you feel happy and satisfied were now coated with a new layer of uncertainty. I wish that someone had flat out asked me if I was having any problems coping when I had Elisabeth. Just having someone to talk about these weird feelings would have been beneficial.

Slowly over time I started to feel less and less anxious. As my baby grew and I felt more in control of my daily life I had more anxiety free moments. It was not an over night transformation but a gradual continuous shift into feeling more like my old self. For me the feelings were the most intense for the first 3 to 4 months post partum and slowly eased off over the rest of the first year.

 

---

Andrea is part of our new Mama Diary Series, #RAWmotherhood, that aims to provide purposeful portraits to break the “Instagram worthy” pictures of motherhood and be real for a moment. Thank you Andrea for supporting this campaign to unite and support mothers in their journey, postpartum. This initiative is to bring awareness and funds to BC Women’s Hospital Foundation as they continue the research and development of an app to treat PPD and PPA. Click here to find out how you can help.

(Photo By Angela Baron Photographer)

You can’t tell when a mother has postpartum depression, anxiety, OCD or PTSD just by simply looking at her. People assume it should be fairly obvious, except it isn’t. We get pretty good at hiding how we are feeling and what we are thinking especially when we have a little one to be taking care of.

Where to begin? There is no easy way to start this but to dive head first into it… My declining depression all started long before I had gotten pregnant and back when talking about mental health wasn’t even a thing, it was seen as a form of “attention”. All aspects of being depressed and anxious haunted me. It has affected and still does to this day, my relationships with friends and family, how I work, my well-being, any aspect – it has a grasp on.

Now coming to terms with my mental health years later, I seemed to have somewhat of a better grip on things… that was until I found out I was pregnant. I was pregnant and alone. A single mom from day one! No partner, no spouse, not even a “boyfriend”. Que the anxiety and panic. My entire pregnancy was me living in fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the what ifs, fear of just being a complete and utter failure in yet another aspect of my life. Obviously when a ‘new mom’ finds out she is pregnant a sea of emotions hit her… The excitement and happiness that a human being is growing inside of you. Then within a matter of seconds, panic, fear, shock, etc. all crept in.

The prepartum depression was all too real the entire pregnancy. Because of the fact I dealt with depression on the regular, my psychiatrist was very meticulous at watching my moods and behaviours. If you are on any sort of antidepressant you know it’s not great for the development of a fetus. Carefully and cautiously we weaned my dose down to something minimal that would have no residual effect on my unborn baby.

Come time to delivering and having my son – I was not prepared. Again the pain of knowing I was delivery a baby by myself (with the exception of my mom) was all too much. I had experienced a rough ending and a traumatic emergency c-section due to preeclampsia that left me in more pain than planned. Now this hadn’t really sunken in till I was getting wheeling into the operating room. I was panicking. What was I to do with a newborn? I had to heal… my stomach would be a mess and I’d be in excruciating pain… I was right. My c-section was horrendous – complication after complication. Baby was stuck, I was losing a lot of blood, it was all just a bit too much too soon.

I hate even thinking about this and saying it out loud – I was disgusted when they put my son on me for the first time. I was so scared and in shock of everything that was going on I just gave my mom a look of horror and she knew to take him off of me immediately. Plus I was shaking uncontrollably from the sedation during surgery, I could barely hold my son. To me, he was still a stranger… we’d never met before. Now I was suddenly a “mom”.

The minutes, hours, days, and weeks after were all a blur. I needed to heal but was raising this tiny human being. On top of my ‘normal’ everyday depression, I was now experiencing major postpartum. I couldn’t cope. I was literally in zombie mode and struggling to dig myself out. I had my psychiatrist whom I could talk too and take the right medication to help with some of the “blues”. It took me a while to connect with my son and feel like he was mine… But as a single parent, with not a very big support system it was really scary and daunting. Even to this day my ‘village’ as they call it, is next to nothing. I always worry if I did and am doing the right thing – but I assume that’s common of every mother?

Even to this day I can still say I have some postpartum depression on top of my everyday struggles with anxiety and depression. My son, who is now 2.5 years old still poses his own unique set of challenges and of course at this age is testing the limits and boundaries. I don’t have a giant house, or a nice fancy car – and always find that I compare myself to other parents. What if I was married, what if I had a bigger home, etc. All of these factor in – but I know I am doing everything I can to provide the best life for me and my son. Parenting, yet alone single parenting is no walk in the park.

Handling life as a new mother is terrifying, yet alone a new single mother. Going through the highs and lows of childbirth and dealing with them alone is so a tough pill to swallow. We do it, and we do it with a smile on our face – but deep down we really just need a break sometimes. Honestly, talking with someone about the fears, anxiety, and moments of what seems like insanity can really help and show that you aren’t as alone in this as you may feel. I still feel alone most days in this journey, but that is part of my depression. I know these feelings, and just because I feel them doesn’t make me less of a mom or someone who loves their child any less. We all process things differently — physically, mentally and emotionally, and we must acknowledge and respect everyone’s process. We all are doing the best we can!

 

---

Samantha is part of our new Mama Diary Series, #RAWmotherhood, that aims to provide purposeful portraits to break the “Instagram worthy” pictures of motherhood and be real for a moment. Thank you Samantha for supporting this campaign to unite and support mothers in their journey, postpartum. This initiative is to bring awareness and funds to BC Women’s Hospital Foundation as they continue the research and development of an app to treat PPD and PPA. Click here to find out how you can help.

(Photo By Angela Baron Photographer)

Postpartum. Even the word in itself feels dark and scary for me. Before I had children, I assumed that I would easily and seamlessly transition into motherhood, and that it would feel like a honeymoon. I believed that I would suddenly bloom gracefully into motherhood. But I was so wrong. I have 4 babies: I’ve experienced 4 dark postpartum periods and am still very much in the thick of my 4th postpartum tunnel.

With each baby, the theme seems to be one of being peeled and broken down to my very core. So much of my naked, raw inner self makes me question myself. It makes me wonder who I am at my very core. I feel like I’m about to fall into a sea of emotions and tears.

Something about this time makes me feel raw, vulnerable, and most of all; broken. When I’m asked how I am, I say that I’m surviving, or that I’m getting better, but what I really want to say is that I feel so broken. Everything that makes me feel not okay seems to be magnified and intensified: My anxiety is heightened. My childhood pains are triggered. I become even more self conscious in my own skin. I feel like something is wrong with me, or that I’m broken. Throw in hormones, difficulty breastfeeding, a new stretchy, soft, curvy body, lots of tears and lack of sleep…. I really do feel broken. And I think to myself, maybe I really am broken. Cue anxiety: How do I mother my children if I’m broken? Am I valued if I am broken? Am I inherently worthy if I am broken? Broken down to my core, exposed and vulnerable- Am I still worthy, valuable and capable? 

Postpartum breaks us down physically, mentally and emotionally. Suddenly, I don’t care that my breasts were exposed in front of people after I delivered. I don’t have time to wear make up or get myself dressed. I sit in my bed, almost completely naked and topless because I just had a baby. My title as entrepreneur and business owner was put on hold as I took time off to have my baby. I was stripped down to the very basics of myself because I took everything off, physically, emotionally and mentally, to have a baby. During birth, I laid down my worries of the world, and stripped myself of all that was on my mind the day before and instinctually cared about one thing: the healthy birth of my baby. Bringing a child into the world, no matter how it happens, instinctually led me to take off my mask, my facade, my clothes and peeled me to my very core. I feel emotionally and mentally exposed and naked before my own eyes. After birth, as I entered into postpartum, I disconnected myself from titles, labels and roles that I carry in my life. I simply, became Jessica. When we give birth to our children, we give birth to a new, raw version of ourselves too. This new, elemental, raw version of myself feels as helpless as my newborn. And I’m learning how to discover this new, broken down version of myself. 

My brand new baby does not yet have any occupation, title, label, facade in the world. As she grows, she will pick up titles: friend, student. Perhaps she may become a dancer or a singer, or a banker, or whatever her heart leads her to. One day, she might have a career and hold an occupational career. But right now, she is simply my baby. She is inherently valuable, worthy, beautiful and so precious at her very core. She is loved simply because she is who she is. I have picked up titles of wife, business owner, entrepreneur, artist, friend, student, etc. These layers are peeled away during my postpartum to reveal Jessica, without any ties to labels or titles that may provide a sense of self-worth. And the hardest part about postpartum for me is to recognize myself at my very core and seeing self-worth in my raw, naked self.

It’s not the practical stuff that makes postpartum hard for me. It’s everything else. Something about these days makes me reach deep into my heart to look at my deepest and darkest fears. It’s like an onion is being peeled, uncovering layers that I never thought were there. Parts of me are being unearthed and makes me question myself as an individual, a woman and as a mother. It makes me feel lost, vulnerable, and like a child. I wonder if I’m a good mother, or if my children love me. I wonder if I am giving my kids what they need. All these questions ride on the waves of emotions that come from after giving birth. 

Postpartum makes me feel broken. It makes me feel small. It makes me feel like a child, which in turn, triggers these feelings and thoughts.  There’s something about my postpartum experience that makes me feel like a child, that makes me so aware that I am motherless. Perhaps it’s because the instinct to care and protect for my own children becomes heightened, or because I’m so exhausted that I yearn to receive the same love that I am pouring out into my own children? Perhaps it’s because I’m so weary from holding it all together that I feel the need to be cared for in a warm, unconditional way too. 

I know now, that  motherhood is about giving our children a safe place that they can be vulnerable in – a place where they can lay down their worries, the insecurities and their brokenness so that they can rest. My babies are born in their natural state, with no ties to titles or facades and I love them so much in their brand-new, raw state. I love them because they are simply, the way they are in their natural glory. For me, motherhood is about nurturing the babies I birth and cherishing them just as they are, so that one day, when they look deep inside of themselves, they know the answer to the questions they ask about themselves. One day, when they look inside their core, I want them to see self-worth, beauty, and inherent value. 

And that’s what I need right now. I need a place to rest in my brokenness. I feel like I need a place to rest from the sleepless nights, the difficulty breastfeeding, the colicky crying and the deep, turbulent emotions that come after having a baby. But what I really need is a space to feel safe to explore this raw version of myself that has just been unveiled.

I need the very same thing that I want to give my babies. 

If I dig deep into my heart, I know that I AM broken. But perhaps it’s a beautiful, broken mess.  What a beautiful opportunity it is for me to heal and discover at this very deep level.  I feel like I’m a vase that has been shattered, but maybe I don’t need to put the pieces back together like I think they should be. Maybe the broken pieces come together to form a new, beautiful mosaic art. The pieces are beautiful because it simply exists to form something new. I just don’t know how I’m going to get there yet. But I know that’s okay, because we’ll figure it out together.

 

---

Jessica is part of our new Mama Diary Series, #RAWmotherhood, that aims to provide purposeful portraits to break the “Instagram worthy” pictures of motherhood and be real for a moment. Thank you Jessica for supporting this campaign to unite and support mothers in their journey, postpartum. This initiative is to bring awareness and funds to BC Women’s Hospital Foundation as they continue the research and development of an app to treat PPD and PPA. Click here to find out how you can help.

 

(Photo By Julie Christine Photography)

Never in a million years that I would come face to face with postpartum depression.

You would think that my first pregnancy, as a Teen Mom, would trigger some sort of depression or anxiety.

But it didn’t.

I didn’t feel any sort of depression or anxiety until 7 and a half years later, when I had my second son.

At first, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling.

All I knew was that was angry, triggered at the smallest infraction, resentful at my partner and I hated being home alone with my son.

I suffered, but I didn’t know what I was suffering from.

I was always angry but not like this. I couldn’t control my emotions and I would be on the verge of tears almost every night.

Why didn’t he sleep? Why didn’t he eat? What was wrong with me? What is happening?! Why do I feel this way?!

I wanted to scream, yell at the top of my lungs “I hate my life!”.

I was sad.

Why couldn’t I wake up cheery like those “other” moms? Why don’t I have any energy? Am I just tired from being up all night?
I broke.

I didn’t tell ANYONE how I was feeling. I didn’t know I was suffering from PPD or PPA. I just thought I was crazy and that I was a bad mother.

My life was torture.  Everyday I would wake up dreading what the day would bring me.

I became ashamed of the person I was and that I allowed myself to get so deep into PPD without seeking help.

I had NO idea what Postpartum Depression.

Growing up, these topics were never discussed. It was taboo to talk about your feelings and it was worse if you let them define you.

So of course, when I was in it, I didn’t know what to do.

I kept seeing threads on Facebook about Postpartum and how do deal with it. I’d read through the comments and I would nod along.

I’d even think “that’s how I’m feeling”.

Once the lightbulb went off, I started googling.

“What is Postpartum?”

“How to deal with Postpartum?”

“How do you know if you have Postpartum?”

Finally.

An answer.

I had postpartum but who do I deal with it?!

It took time. Months to be exact for me to feel like myself again.

To this day I still struggle. But not because of new son.

I’m traumatized about what COULD be. Always waiting for something bad to happen.

However, I know my triggers and when I feel them coming, I call for help. My mom, my sister, a friend.

Because, I refuse to feel that way again.

 

---

 

Heydy is part of our new Mama Diary Series, #RAWmotherhood, that aims to provide purposeful portraits to break the “Instagram worthy” pictures of motherhood and be real for a moment. Thank you Heydy for supporting this campaign to unite and support mothers in their journey, postpartum. This initiative is to bring awareness and funds to BC Women’s Hospital Foundation as they continue the research and development of an app to treat PPD and PPA. Click here to find out how you can help.

(Photo By Angela Baron Photographer)

My first born, Caleb, was born at 41 wks via an emergency C-section (following 2 rounds of induction in one day & hours of pushing with no success).

The C-section went well, and soon enough we were home and getting settled in.

It had only been one week since we had been home from the hospital, and I was sleeping on the couch at night with Caleb (I know that’s a no-no, but he would only sleep on you), as we were taking turns sitting with him over night so at least one of us could catch some zzzs.

I woke up in a lot of pain (basically septic shock), sometime around 2am and it felt as though I was paralyzed. I could barely open my eyes, couldn’t speak, couldn’t stand, and was drooling.

It took everything I had to sit up with Caleb in my arms and make my way to the bedroom to wake my husband up as something was definitely wrong.

After a call to the nurses’s help line 8-1-1 I was told to head to the emergency room.

Since Eagle Ridge hospital was closer for us, we headed straight there. After a series of tests in the ER, it was determined that I had acute edometritis (infection in the lining of the uterus). We spent the night in the ER (the 3 of us), until my parents picked up Caleb, since it’s not an ideal place for a newborn.

The next day I was moved to another wing to recover, and spent an entire week on antibiotics.

It was a very strange, and of course upsetting experience as I was not able to stay with Caleb, he had to return home with my husband & as a week old dad, spent an entire week alone with a newborn, who was originally EBF, and had to quickly learn to bottle feed. I pumped and dumped for an entire week which was physically and emotionally draining since it was all so new.

While I was fortunate to have a semi- private room, the patient I was sharing with was being moved from Eagle Ridge to palliative care and spent most of her time visiting & crying with relatives and her priest that came by. She was draining some sort of fluids and there were containers of it on the counter of our shared bathroom. So I sat in my hospital bed with an IV, and a breast pump attached to me the whole week. I couldn’t really get up and move around since I was recovering from a c-section, so I stayed in bed mostly, crying behind my curtain and watching DVDs, trying not to listen to the poor woman I was rooming with as she was grieving her own life.

With that said, having her as my roomie gave me perspective. At the end of my week I put my regular clothes & shoes back on and walked out of that hospital & back to my life, and I’m very grateful for that, I realize that I could have been in the hospital for much more serious reasons.

I really wish that there had been an option to have my son with me, or see him more. I don’t feel like there was any support for me as a new mom. I’m very grateful for the care that I received but the care certainly wasn’t tailored to a first time mom, 1 week post partum, recovering from a c-section.

It felt so strange to have become a mom and then suddenly I wasn’t. I’m so grateful that my husband was able to care for our son 110% in my absence, along with bringing me meals etc. And I’m so lucky that my son was such an easy going baby, and went right back to breastfeeding when I returned.

But because of that, it was a bit strange adjusting at home, at first I felt a bit un-needed since they carried on without me, and I felt guilty for missing an entire week of my son’s first first month on earth.

Most people commented about how ‘lucky’ I was to get to sleep through the night when I had just had a baby, but I certainly wasn’t getting any sleep in the hospital, and the ‘mom guilt’ for not being the primary care giver for my child was really upsetting.

Of course we carried on and eventually adjusted, it just took me some time to ‘officially’ feel like a mom. I just hope that for other moms who end up being hospitalized soon after they give birth, that there is an option to have their child with them and more support for them with breastfeeding & recovering post partum.

But if I learned anything from my 2 C-Sections, 1 hospital stay following my first born & returning to the hospital with my 2nd child to spend 24hrs under the lamps for jaundice, it’s to roll with the punches, and to adjust your expectations as needed. It’s okay when things don’t go to plan, and what makes you a mom is showing up everyday for someone else & caring for their needs before your own. NOT having the most Pinterest worthy birth, or newborn photography, those things are just extras. All that matters is that mom & baby are healthy & the rest will fall into place.

 

---

Jennifer is part of our new Mama Diary Series, #RAWmotherhood, that aims to provide purposeful portraits to break the “Instagram worthy” pictures of motherhood and be real for a moment. Thank you Jennifer for supporting this campaign to unite and support mothers in their journey, postpartum. This initiative is to bring awareness and funds to BC Women’s Hospital Foundation as they continue the research and development of an app to treat PPD and PPA. Click here to find out how you can help.

 

(Photo By Julie Christine Photography)

When I think back to when it all began for me I always thought it was that first moment I held my perfect daughter in my arms and felt that overwhelming feeling of content. But the more and more I think about it, I think that it was that first moment I held the positive pregnancy test in my hands. I never really realized how much I had wanted it until it was happening.

Over filled with joy, one day, it was like a light switch went off in my head with the “what if’s. They use to come once a day, then once an hour and increased to once every half hour. They haunted me every single day, from the moment i found out I was pregnant to every once in a while presently. You know the “What if’s” we all get them. What if something bad happens and I loose my baby, what if theres a car accident or something terrible happens to Drew. What if I die, what if Drew dies. What would I do, how would my family cope? Do I have a plan?

I can’t explain why but these emotions, feelings, thoughts just lingered. I held in my secret pregnancy until I was 18 weeks so scared that I would loose my sweet baby. I was so scared of something bad happening to her, to me. This went on until the days leading up to my labour, by then I had told everyone our great news but still those thoughts still haunted me. I had discovered a lump under my underarm at 8months and I thought for sure the worst. Cancer. I made my doctors appointment, and on the morning of my appointment I went into labour. I found out the next day that it was only a milk duct and milk had gathered under creating that lump. It was almost like the universe was laughing at me. Reminding me to chill the fuck out.

I just couldn’t shake those feelings no matter how hard I tried, and after having my two beautiful kids and amazing husband it insensified. I could never let anything happen to me or my kids. I became a helicopter mom, I made doctors appointments for health concern possible, except for the one that bothered me the most. My Post Partum Anxiety/ Depression. I didn’t even know it was a thing until one night my anxiety hit the roof to panic attack. Sweating palms, heart racing, can’t think straight….

I hit to the internet to search my newest fear and stumbled upon PPA/PPD. I never thought of myself depressed I actually felt good, but my anxiety did not. The more I searched the more I realized I was diagnosing myself and yes and I made a doctors appointment. Turns out, she told me theres nothing I can really do about it and it happens all the time to new moms. Not quite the answer I was looking for, so I knew it was in my own hands to combat this. Still not an easy task to do. But I knew as soon as my PPA habits starting rubbing off on my oldest son I had to take charge back into my life.

I asked for help, I begged for help, a sitter a day out whatever it was I took it. I mediated, but my biggest dig out of my slump was my blog. I will always be appreciative for this buisness I created that helped me see the light. I started to write, and write until my hands started to cramp up and seize. My husband came home one day with my computer around mothers day 2015 and told me to type my thoughts. I did and expanded my writing to an online blog.

Don’t get me wrong I’m by all means not cured, I just helped myself channel my fears into positive things. I feel it abruptly coming to the service I remind myself that I’m here today living life still with my beautiful family and nothing can take away my joy. I wanted to share my story in hopes that it may help one or two moms see the light to those emotions and feelings they may be experiencing and think nothing of it. It’s not something to be ignored or swept under the mat. It may happen to everyone but it doesn’t need to be treated like nothing, it can effect your whole world. Your kids, your day, your feelings.

 

---

Keisha is part of our new Mama Diary Series, #RAWmotherhood, that aims to provide purposeful portraits to break the “Instagram worthy” pictures of motherhood and be real for a moment. Thank you Keisha for supporting this campaign to unite and support mothers in their journey, postpartum. This initiative is to bring awareness and funds to BC Women’s Hospital Foundation as they continue the research and development of an app to treat PPD and PPA. Click here to find out how you can help.