There’s no way this is postpartum depression. How could it be?

I remember thinking this to myself as I received the diagnosis seven months after my son was born.

I had been aware it could happen, especially since I had a history of anxiety. I had discussed the possibility with my husband a couple of times before and during my pregnancy. But, when the baby got here, weeks went by. Months went by. I felt exhausted and stressed but normal. I filled out the postpartum questionnaire each visit with ease and handed it to the medical staff. The woman at the desk had told me at my baby’s 6-month check-up, “This is the last time you’ll need to fill this out,” as I took it from her, thanked her, and smiled.

And then, out of nowhere, it hit me.

The anxiety that was typically under control was short-circuiting my brain. I felt on the verge of panic attacks every day. I became depressed about being anxious, crying every day and sinking into a dark fog. People would talk to me, but I wouldn’t really hear them. I was forgetful. My brain was moving at lightning pace, yet my words and actions were forced and hard, like moving through molasses.

It wasn’t until a friend asked me point blank how I was mentally that I finally started opening up about it.

She encouraged me to get help, and after a few days of fighting it, I decided it was the right thing to do.

I met with a counselor who was able to diagnose postpartum depression. Then, I met with my doctor who was able to help me with the next steps.

RELATED: It’s OK to Admit You’re Not OK, Mama

It was hard to talk about because I felt like it somehow made me a bad mom.

I felt guilty and embarrassed. Above all else, I felt ashamed.

And I think that is one of the biggest factors that stop people from getting help: the intense shame. But, mental health is extremely complicated and does not need to be compared to be validated. Our pain needs to be combated with compassion. We can see and support another in their pain while not shrinking away from our own. Sharing our experiences, shedding light on what hurts helps shut down the shame.

I was talking to my parents about it one day. Feeling very defeated, I said, “It just hit me like a ton of bricks.”

My dad looked at me and said, “Well honey, then you’re gonna pick it up one brick at a time and throw it back.” 

That really stuck with me. I would stare at the bricks around me and be absolutely trapped in one spot.

The shame. The fear. The guilt. You name it, there was a brick for it.

But, no matter how many bricks there were, I only needed the strength to throw one at a time. I threw the shame away by combating it with the truth: this happens to so many women from birth into the first year postpartum. It can manifest in so many ways for so many different women, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

RELATED: A New Mom Can Feel Blessed and Thankful and Still Battle Postpartum Anxiety

I threw the fear away by talking: to a counselor, to friends and family, to my doctor. I threw the guilt away by reminding myself that mental health is just as important as physical health and getting treatment in its various forms is admirable and the best option for myself and for my family.

Step by step, I threw those bricks back.

Some were easier to toss than others. Some required a lot more concentrated effort. But, I found the strength through faith, a treatment plan, an amazing support system, and lots of hope and prayer.

So, please, if you think you might be experiencing postpartum depression or any kind of mental illness, reach out to someone. It might not present in the typical way at the typical time. It might be something that requires professional help and treatment options. It doesn’t make you weak to ask for help or to seek out those resources. It doesn’t make you a bad parent, spouse, or sibling to admit when you need help.

RELATED: I Have Anxiety and Depression—and I’m a Good Mom

I know it can feel like you’ve been blindsided. I know it can be tempting to try to compare your pain to others and to minimize it and push it into the dark. I know it can make you feel scared, vulnerable, and lost. I know it can feel like you’ve been hit by a ton of bricks that are weighing you down, threatening to crush you.

But, one day at a time, one brick at a time, we can throw them back, together.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Liz Newman

Liz Newman is a poet and a blogger from the Midwest. She writes primarily on faith, love, and relationships. She is a wife, mama, and a bookworm. She loves connecting with others through words and hopes to inspire and encourage others along the way. 

Sometimes God Sends a Double Rainbow

In: Baby, Loss, Motherhood
Two sacs as seen in early pregnancy sonogram

I lay on the ultrasound table prepared to hear the worst. While this pregnancy wasn’t totally expected, it was a miracle for me. I knew with the current stress in my life and the symptoms of a miscarriage, I may have to face another heartbreak to my series of heartbreaks over the last two years. I questioned what I did wrong to deserve it all. I prayed I had been stronger in my prior life: to have made better decisions. So I lay there, I held my breath, and I waited as the tech put the cold jelly over my...

Keep Reading

When Your Baby becomes a Big Boy

In: Baby, Motherhood, Toddler
Toddler boy smiling with hoodie on

My son recently learned how to climb out of things, so I asked my husband to take the side off the crib to convert it to a toddler bed today. I snapped one last picture of my son in his crib before I hurried off to get him dressed for school. As I got to work, I saw my husband had sent me a text of the transformed crib, and it just about killed me. I know, I know . . . what even changed? It pretty much looks the same. But it’s more than just the side of the...

Keep Reading

I Know This Baby Is Our Last and It’s Bittersweet

In: Baby, Motherhood, Toddler
Woman snuggling baby by window

Three is our magic number. It always has been. It feels like the perfect number of kids for us. Everyone who belongs around my dinner table is here. Our family is complete. And yet even though my family is complete, I still find myself grieving that this is our last baby just a little bit as I pack up the teeny, tiny newborn onesies and socks. I’ve folded up swaddle blankets that saw us through the all-nighters of the newborn phase, ready to be passed along to a new baby in someone else’s family. But they won’t be swaddled around...

Keep Reading

I Wasn’t Sure You’d Be Here To Hold

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother with newborn baby on her chest in hospital bed

I stood naked in my parents’ bathroom. Even with the tub filling, I could hear my family chattering behind the door. I longed to be with them, not hiding alone with my seven-month round belly, sleep-deprived, and covered in pox-like marks. For three weeks, I’d tried Benadryl, lotions, and other suggested remedies to cure the strange rash spreading over my body. No luck. By Christmas Day, my life had been reduced to survival. Day and night, I tried to resist itching, but gave in, especially in my sleep. At 1 a.m., 2 a.m., 3 a.m., the feeling of fire ants...

Keep Reading

No One Warned Me About the Last Baby

In: Baby, Kids, Motherhood
Mother holding newborn baby, black-and-white photo

No one warned me about the last baby. When I had my first, my second, and my third, those first years were blurry from sleep deprivation and chaos from juggling multiple itty-bitties. But the last baby? There’s a desperation in that newborn fog to soak it up because there won’t be another. No one warned me about the last baby. Selling the baby swing and donating old toys because we wouldn’t need them crushed me. I cried selling our double jogger and thought my heart would split in two when I dropped off newborn clothes. Throwing out pacifiers and bottles...

Keep Reading

My Second, It Only Took a Second To Fall In Love With You

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother with newborn baby on chest, black and white image

You were the second. The second child who, as a mother, I wondered if I could love as much and as fiercely as my first. It’s true, I’m ashamed to admit. As much as you were so desperately prayed for, I was scared. So, so scared. I was scared I was going to fail you. You were the second. And already so loved. But, you see, your brother was my whole entire world. My everything. He made me a mother and gave me all the firsts. My lap was only so big. My heart was only so big. There was...

Keep Reading

Dear Helmet Mama, It’s Not Your Fault

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mom holding baby with helmet, color photo

I’m a helmet mama. It’s something I never thought I’d say, but there it is. And I’m not going to be ashamed of it. Of course, at first, when the doctor referred us to see a specialist for “flat head,” I thought, “Oh, please no. Not my baby.” I’ve seen those babies, and I’ve always felt bad for them and wondered how their heads got that bad. And I’ll be honest, I’d usually pass judgment on the mother of that baby. So how did I end up with my own baby having a helmet on his head? It’s called torticollis—and...

Keep Reading

Thank You to the Nurses Who Cared for My Baby First

In: Baby, Motherhood
Infant in hospital isolette, color photo

I wish I knew who she (or he) was and what she looked like. Was she young or older, experienced or just starting out? How had her weekend been? Was she starting or ending a work shift at 2:30 a.m. that Monday morning when they ran me into the surgery room? The first few days after my son was born, he was kept in intermediate care as we recovered from an emergency C-section that saved both our lives—his by just a few minutes. I occasionally managed to shuffle over to see him, but was pretty weak myself, so the nurses...

Keep Reading

Hey Mama, This Is Your Labor & Delivery Nurse Speaking

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother holding newborn baby looking up at labor and delivery nurse and smiling

First of all, mama, I want to congratulate you! Whether this is your first baby or not, I am honored to be here with you through this experience. Before you ask me, no, I do not care if you shaved your you know what. There are plenty of other things I’m thinking of, and that is not one of them. I’m so happy to be here for the birth of you and your baby, but most importantly, I’m happy to be here for YOU. It doesn’t matter to me if you want to breastfeed, it doesn’t matter if you want...

Keep Reading

My Baby Had Laryngomalacia

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother holding baby on her shoulder

Life’s funny, isn’t it? Just when you think you’ve got the whole motherhood thing figured out, the universe throws a curveball. And, oh boy, did it throw me one with my second baby. There I was, feeling like a seasoned mom with my firstborn—a healthy, vivacious toddler who was 16 months old. Our breastfeeding journey had its hiccups, an early tongue-tie diagnosis that did little to deter our bond. Fourteen months of nurturing, nighttime cuddles, and feeling powerful, like my body was doing exactly what it was meant to do. Enter my second baby. A fresh chapter, a new story....

Keep Reading