Secret Mommy-hood Confession Saturday

A secret mommy-hood confession? Hmmm....where do I start? I know....my confession for this Saturday is that I often feel jealous, angry, and selfish. I envy moms who have babies--sometimes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and more babies--and do not experience postpartum depression or anxiety. I am so envious that they can enjoy and appreciate such a beautiful, miraculous experience without the dark hole that is depression and anxiety. Now, don't get me wrong...I know those moms go through tough times, too. I know that motherhood isn't always a cakewalk. But postpartum depression and anxiety is something that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. It is a pain so unimaginable, and so intense, that it can turn the most joyous life upside down.
My second confession is that, not only do I feel jealous about these moms, sometimes I feel angry, too. I feel like it's unfair. I feel mad that I am the one that has to go through this. I so badly just want to feel "normal", everyday stress. I want my biggest worries to, again, be about how clean my house is, if I can afford that new shirt, or if I am getting enough exercise. Sometimes I feel slighted by God that I have to experience this hell-on-earth that is postpartum depression, anxiety, and OCD.
Finally, my last confession for today is the selfishness I feel. Although there's plenty of selfishness contained in the writing above, that's not all... My selfishness can be strong at times. I find myself secretly hoping that one of my friends gets postpartum depression, so that I am not alone. So that I have someone to lean on who understands this experience. (God, please forgive me for this. I don't really mean it. Like I said earlier, I truly wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy). I have so many friends who have baby after baby, with seemingly no major stress. I want that so badly. I want to be that mom that pops kids out--one right after the next. I dreamed of having that big family, and I am so sad that will not be a reality for me and my husband.
In spite of all these negative thoughts I have, I know that they are just that--thoughts. They are not reality. They do not reflect my heart or my personality or my intentions. These are the thoughts of a mom who is in the throes of depression, and who is being so brutally honest in the hope of healing.

Before and After

Before postpartum depression, I believed:
That my husband loved me unconditionally, and that we would be married forever.
That if my husband ever did decide to leave me, that I would be okay on my own.
I believed that I was an asset to my employer, and that they were fortunate to have me.
I believed that I was born to be a mother.
Before postpartum depression and anxiety I never doubted my sanity.
I never worried about being psychiatrically hospitalized.
I never worried about "going crazy".
I believed that having a big family, and caring for them, was my calling in life.
I dreamed of being a foster parent.
I dreamed of rescuing dozens of dogs from shelters and having a home in the country.
I dreamed of being a stay-at-home mom, or owning my own business and working part-time.
I dreamed that I would give my child all of the things that I longed for in my childhood.
Then postpartum depression and anxiety hit. Hard.
And I became terrified that...
I was losing my mind.
I would never be myself again.
I would always feel depressed and anxious.
I would have to be psychiatrically hospitalized.
And that would be the end of my career. And my sanity.
I believed that I would probably become debilitated by depression and anxiety.
And that I would lose my job.
And never again be hired.
Or if I was hired, that I would soon lose that job too.
I became terrified that I would never sleep again.
That I would never find meaning in my life again.
That I would never be happy.
Or fulfilled.
I doubted that I would be able to give my son a stable or happy home.
I thought my son would be better off without me.
I became terrified that I would lose my mind and hurt my son.
I became terrified that I would lose my mind and hurt myself.
I gave up on my dream of being a foster parent. After all, I didn't believe I was capable of caring for my son, let alone anyone else's children.
I gave up on my dream of having a big family.
I became convinced that my husband would eventually realize he was better off without me.
And that I could not survive without him.
Right now, I am confused. I am not sure what to believe anymore. Actually, I think I am still in a state of disbelief. Disbelief that this has all happened to me. And I am grieving. Grieving for the confident and joyful beliefs I once held. Before postpartum depression, that is.

My Safe Place

Growing up, home wasn't always a safe and comfortable place. When I became an adult and moved out on my own, I yearned to make my dorm room, college home, and grad school apartment my sanctuaries. I tried....but I was not successful. Sure, those places were sufficient, and they were mine. But, they never really felt like home. Then, the stars aligned and I finally finished school and got a decent paying job. I married my husband, and he had a solid income. And we were able to purchase a charming, but modest home. I spent hours visualizing, planning, decorating, and rearranging my home until I felt it was just right. My home did become my sanctuary. I remember times I would be at a meeting or a class and feel nervous. I would think back to my "safe place" and imagine myself at home, cuddled up on the couch with my hubby, feeling perfectly blessed and content with life. Then, postpartum depression hit me like a ton of bricks....while I was in the kitchen making lunch for my sweet little boy and my husband. Scary thoughts that were unwanted and horrifyingly frightening entered my mind. I became a ball of shame, depession, and anxiety. I was paralyzed by my fear. And my home became the place where it all occurred. My home was no longer my safe place. It now became the place where, to me, the worst imaginable pain I could have ever imagined, overtook me. As devastated as I was to have lost that safe feeling at home....I learned that feeling safe with your mind was even more important. During the worst moments of postpartum depression, I could not trust my mind or my thoughts. I felt like I was losing my self, and my sanity. Today, my home is becoming my sanctuary again. It does not feel as comforting as it once was, though. Being home for long periods of time by myself or even with my family, can still bring twinges of anxiousness. But they are now small, only remnants of what once existed. The associations are fading over time. My mind and my thoughts are safer, too. Those memories and those fears have faded. Now I am putting my energy in my faith in God, and relying on Him through the good and the bad. When I am feeling frightened or worried, and long for that sense of complete safety I once felt, I think of God, and I think of Pslam 34:19--Many are the afflications of the righteous, but the Lord deliverth him from all of them. And I feel like I have once again found my safe place.