The Postpartum Freight Train, My Postpartum Experience

The last few weeks of my pregnancy, all I could think was “I can’t wait for this baby to get out.” It was my assumption after my son was born that all the pain and discomfort would finally end after a few weeks of recovery time.

Surprise! There were a lot of things postpartum I did not account for happening. Things that hit me like a freight train and left me standing there wondering where my stop was so I could get off this brutal ride.

This is a very personal piece. Yet, I felt the need to share because if I knew what I know now a few months ago maybe I could have avoided my postpartum experience blowing up to the level that it did. 

It all started with my three week postpartum checkup. The OB Doctor handed me a little piece of paper to fill out. She told me it was a series of standard postpartum screening questions. 

I filled them out and handed them back to her. I watched her expression shift to concern. She looked at me empathetically as she got up to close the door. When she sat back down, she said “Christian, I take it from the results of these screening questions that things are not going very well.” I said “Oh” I had to think about it for a minute. “Things are a bit overwhelming right now.” The OB Doctor said, “You have screened very high on the postpartum depression scale.”

High on the postpartum depression scale? I was confused. I remember thinking, “I don’t have the right to have postpartum depression.” We had lots of support and were certainly not entering parenthood without help. 

The OB Doctor explained that postpartum depression was so much more than the result of not having help. It was something that some women just experienced. 

I felt like I had lost an unknown battle. As if by experiencing postpartum depression I was doing motherhood wrong. Did having postpartum depression mean I wasn’t enjoying motherhood? Or that I wasn’t bonding well with my baby? 

I wondered this because I didn’t feel an immediate intense attachment to my son. It took me a long time to make peace with that. I felt so much guilt over it because I thought once they placed him on my chest I would have this exploding feeling of euphoric love and attachment. I knew I loved him the moment that I met him but I didn’t feel like I “knew” him yet. Of course now I have this attachment but for me, it took time.

I don’t think my postpartum depression was only the result of having a new baby. I think it was fueled in combination with the new baby stress and the identity shift in becoming a mother. I also saw true colours in people around me after my son was born and I watched important relationships change. 

Have you ever had a time in your life where your senses are just heightened and you really start to just pay attention to the people around you? For me, that time was entering motherhood. Becoming a mom lit my senses on fire. I’m assuming because the behaviors of other people in my life weren’t just impacting me anymore they were going to impact my son as well. 

There was just like this tsunami wave I got hit with between adapting to becoming a mom, shifting my identity, watching relationships change and feeling the pang of things from my own childhood I didn’t realize I needed to heal from until I was reminded of them again through motherhood. 

The OB Doctor put me in touch with some resources to help with some of my struggle areas. She empowered me to talk about my postpartum depression with loved ones and/or a therapist. 

Some of my loved ones were surprised. A few of them said “You don’t look depressed.” 

I don’t believe depression has a look. For me, it was something internal going on that I didn’t understand myself. My postpartum depression was like a trojan horse sneaking into my mind.

Numbness is the best way I could describe it. I didn’t think I had postpartum depression/ anxiety because I always had an excuse as to why I wasn’t interested in something. “I can’t go to the store, there are too many germs for the baby.”or “I don’t want too many friends coming over right now, he doesn’t have his vaccines yet.” While these thoughts all started out very reasonable and easy to validate; they snowballed into more unreasonable thoughts of not being able to leave the house for reasons that weren’t so easy to validate. These thought patterns left me very isolated and fueled an unhealthy level of anxiety over my baby's well-being. I started to pull away from most of the things I previously enjoyed. 

It was through openly talking about how I was truly feeling with my husband and close friends that I slowly made my way through it. Each day challenging myself to do one thing that scared me.

Stalled in discovery by my postpartum depression and adapting to motherhood; something else was boiling over with my health right under my nose. Something I didn’t uncover until very recently (five months postpartum).

Sparing you the gory details, I was having some persistent symptoms. These symptoms started mildly in pregnancy and got brushed off as part of the pregnancy. After I delivered, the symptoms continued. They got brushed off again this time to symptoms of postpartum. 

Around four weeks postpartum, I ended up going to the ER because the symptoms had really escalated. I was told it sounded like I had salmonella poisoning. The doctor mentioned that during the postpartum period women were much more susceptible to food borne illnesses and bacteria. In line with a case of salmonella, the symptoms did resolve. For a few weeks… 

Then, I started to get these annoying cankers in my mouth a few weeks after the “salmonella poisoning” I also had terrible eczema. My doctor mentioned the hormonal changes could cause both symptoms.  

Then the salmonella-like symptoms hit me again randomly one afternoon. I was so perplexed. I remember thinking “There is just no way I have food poisoning again.” I had been so diligent after the first time. Eating nothing sketchy, constantly washing my hands and overcooking every piece of chicken. 

I tried to trace all of my steps. I was thinking “Okay, am I not practicing good enough hand hygiene at diaper change time?” I asked around a bit and some people suggested trying some more fiber in my diet. I was just throwing darts at the board at this point.

Friends and family started asking me about my weight as well. At first, I got a lot of “Wow, you don’t look like you just had a baby.” Then it slowly started to morph into “Are you okay, you look like you’ve lost a lot of weight.” Which I chalked up to breastfeeding a growing boy.

When the salmonella-like symptoms returned they started out kind of mildly. I was pushing through the symptoms as I got caught up in the four month sleep regression happening in parallel to the symptoms I was experiencing. I was so underwater trying to function. I had also felt a bit brushed off the first few times I tried to bring these symptoms up with a doctor. So I didn’t think it was anything too serious to rush in for. 

Big mistake. I finally did get to my doctor. He sent me for some bloodwork to see if I had Celiac’s disease. I didn’t. What I did have, was elevated levels of inflammation. So my doctor began the process of arranging a colonoscopy. 

In the interim of waiting for the colonoscopy; life hit us up again with another obstacle. I wasn’t feeling well so we decided to introduce formula to our son. I needed to take some of the pressure off myself from exclusive pumping due to the symptoms I was experiencing. My supply had also significantly decreased. 

We gave our son the formula and about an hour later gave him a bath. He started to fall asleep in the bathtub. This was extremely unusual for him. My husband took him out of the bath and he was cold and pale. My son was having a hard time staying awake. We called the paramedics who brought him to the hospital. 

He ultimately got transferred to a children’s hospital for monitoring. We were there for sixteen hours. Thankfully, he turned around and we now know he has a cow protein allergy. However, the stress of this experience sent my secret condition into overdrive. 

A few days after my son was discharged, I found myself at the ER. I was severely dehydrated. They gave me two liters of fluids, which made me feel better and then sent me home.

Unfortunately, things kept going downhill over the next few days and I found myself back at a different ER this time. I went to triage and for the first time in my life, was sent straight back with no wait time.

My heart rate was quite high from the dehydration. So the doctor gave me some fluids to stabilize my heart rate and then sent me straight for a CT scan and bloodwork.

The bloodwork and CT scan confirmed inflammation levels that were through the roof. I was put back on fluids and admitted as an inpatient. The ER Doctor was able to line up a specialist to come and see me in the morning. The plan was to arrange a partial emergency colonoscopy. 

The specialist came to see me and told me that he believed I had Colitis. I was like “What the hell is Colitis?” In a nutshell, my colon mistakes good bacteria for bad bacteria and attacks it. Leaving my colon inflamed with ulcers. Nice, right ? Oh, and this is a lifelong condition that can’t be cured. Only managed with medication and diet. 

After the colonoscopy was complete, the specialist came back to see me. He told me I had one of the most severe cases of Colitis he had seen in years. So much so that if this went untreated any longer I likely would have lost my bowels. When the specialist closed the door to my hospital room; I just cried. 

I felt robbed of moments with my son from the past few weeks and robbed of future moments from however many more weeks I would be in recovery. During the week I was in the hospital, I only got to see him for an hour a day. For the next few weeks, we have family and friends at the house watching him while I recover. 

I dreamed of taking my baby for Fall strolls. I pictured myself latte in hand pointing out all the colours to him. Instead, I’m on the couch while other people walk him. 

I can’t help but wonder what the future is going to hold with my condition as a parent. I worry about the stuff I’ll miss during the flare ups. I’ve been trying to remind myself that this is an opportunity to really maximize the times where I am feeling well. 

It’s also a chance for me to become more healthy overall. The recommended diet for Colitis is full of healing superfoods. Obviously, this is forcing me to let go of inflammatory foods which will be better in the long run anyways. However, it’s been pretty rough not eating whatever I want. This condition means lactose free, gluten free, no alcohol, no caffeine, and a very limited dessert range. It’s okay though, I see my son's gummy little smile and it makes it easy for me to decline “bad foods”. I know that by not eating a certain way it will prolong the time between flares giving me more time to play with him and be present.

I’m going to be navigating this for a little while yet but I have a few reflections so far I wanted to highlight

1. Postpartum depression doesn’t need a reason and it does not have a look

I hope one day new mothers feel nonchalant in saying “I have postpartum depression.” Like a tea time conversation amongst friends where we just openly say “I’m struggling.” No looks of pity. Just an “Okay, how can we help?” I feel embarrassed by my own reaction to postpartum depression. I was part of the problem by thinking it was “wrong” to have it because I didn’t feel like I had a reason to. I was under the misconception that postpartum depression was something to feel ashamed about when it absolutely is not. I was too hard on myself thinking in order to feel like I was doing motherhood right I had to feel happy about everything and ignore the other feelings. 

If you are the partner of a new mother or the friend or family member of one you have a role as well. Don’t assume that just because a new mom “looks” okay that she is. Check in with them on a deeper level. Make yourself a safe space for them to openly talk about their struggles and give them the floor. What I mean by that is not adding your own experiences or opinions when they share a struggle with you. Just let them express themselves and be there to listen.

2. There is a difference between resilience as a tool and resilience as a detriment

It is really easy to get caught up in the challenging phases of our children. No matter the challenge, while it is a top priority to tune into their needs; it is even more important to stay in tune with your own needs. I had this vision that being a mother meant being willing to sacrifice my own needs for the needs of my children. I always pictured motherhood as the highest form of love (it is). Yet, when I put my baby's needs 100% before my own I rendered myself useless to him.

I don’t blame myself. I have given myself the grace to let this be a learning opportunity. I know it was not my intention to let myself get as sick as I did and I think there were a lot of obstacles I faced in reaching the correct diagnosis. Pregnancy and postpartum have a wide umbrella of symptoms that made it very easy to disguise what was happening with my health.

I could have advocated for myself better though. I could have asked for help sooner so that I could make the time to go back to the doctor and say “No, this is not normal, this is not just postpartum or salmonella poisoning. What further testing is available?” 

Parenthood does require resilience. However, resilience is a tool in your belt. It does run out of power eventually. You can use resilience to get the tough jobs done but when the battery is getting low if you don’t put it back on the charger, resilience is a tool that is going to become useless until it’s fully charged again. Don’t let resilience become the crutch that leads to your detriment.

3. Toxic positivity gets thrown around sometimes when shit hits the fan 

During my hospitalization, a number of family and friends told me to “stay positive.” It’s just the thing you say right? I decided to take their stay positive mantra with a grain of salt. Ironic huh? I started a blog with the mission to create positive outlooks. It’s not ironic though, I am about positive outlooks but I am not about toxic positivity. Toxic positivity leads to denial and invalidation of your true feelings. 

I think it is healthy to let yourself feel grief in these kinds of situations. Trying to be positive about stuff like this too early in my own opinion is a bit delusional. I find sometimes people can’t sit comfortably with you during sad emotions. So they just tell you to be positive instead. 

I’ve often found positivity through my faith or surfacing motivators to be positive (like getting more time with my son). Positivity has also come for me through genuine acceptance of a bad situation. I have yet to reach genuine acceptance of a bad situation without allowing myself to feel the hardship of it. Grief is part of the work you do to get positivity as a result. In other words, like any job, cutting corners never leads to our best work or outcomes.

If someone tells you to stay positive during the peak of a bad situation just know that it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t need to stay positive. You can lay there and cry when they tell you that you almost lost your bowels. You can be angry if you’re missing time with your baby because you are unwell. You can give yourself a time frame to just be pissed off. There is no pressure you need to put on yourself to stay positive because positivity is only going to come with healing and healing does take time. 

I’m not saying to let yourself be angry indefinitely either. Just that it’s okay to move forward from a bad situation with some grief tagging along for a little bit. If you find yourself surrounded by people who just can’t seem to let you express these feelings of sadness without poofing you with the positivity powder I have found writing really helpful or therapy of course. 

4.Gratitude 

I know, I hear you, I beat gratitude into every blog recipe I write but I don’t think gratitude can be overexpressed. Gratitude is also the thing that keeps me going in all challenging times. I can’t tell you how much gratitude we have for the friends and family who showed up for us. Our village has been watching our son, keeping him none the wiser to what’s going on. He is still smiling, playing, well fed, sleeping and loved immensely which is the only thing that kept me from going insane in the hospital. Just knowing that my son was in good hands with people who loved him and were going to take good care of him while I couldn’t was the only thing that brought me any peace. 

That’s it for now. I’m sure as I continue down this road I’ll have more positive outlooks to share as my blog mission states. For now, I just wanted to write a candid piece with the goal of warning other new moms that the postpartum period can be full of surprises. If you’re about to enter it or have just entered it there may just be some things you need to pay a little closer attention to than you normally would with yourself.

If you have feelings of sadness as a new mom, it’s okay. It doesn’t mean you aren’t rocking or enjoying motherhood. It means you are a human who just went through a massive life change. Any life change at all is going to provoke a variety of emotions.

I also hope by sharing my experience with postpartum depression to contribute to the movement of normalizing it. 

On the health side of things, clearly pregnancy and postpartum can mask some stuff that is going on with your health that you should not push through.

In retrospect, I should have not let myself get brushed off. I wanted to believe that the symptoms I was experiencing probably were just part of pregnancy and postpartum. Deep down I knew that what was happening was not normal though. It was easier for me to just go along with it and agree the symptoms were just going to resolve as I recovered.

If I could go back I wouldn’t have just gone with it. I would have gotten over my fear of further testing and asked for it much sooner. I would have told myself that my family doesn’t feel burdened by helping me. That as a mom it’s okay that I need to rely on others more to help when times get tough because raising a baby really does take a village.

Taking help didn’t make me any less of a mom either. My son and I still light up at each other every time we are together.

He doesn’t love me any less.