“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it... Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”
— Brene Brown
I am a granddaughter, daughter, sister, mama.
I offer thanks and prayers to my ancestors.
I am a creatrix- a midwife, a plant healer, a wellness weaver.
I am a love warrior,
I come lovingly alongside the pain
and sing the strengths of my human siblings.
I am a survivor:
wildly whole
wounded
tender and fierce
magical and commonplace.
Elsie’s family portrait, age 4
This is my postpartum story. I wrote it as one aspect of integrating the suffering and alchemizing the pain. It references suffering and if you’re not up for that exposure, skip it! May it serve to break the cycle of stigma, shame and isolation.
Suffering from and overcoming postpartum depression and anxiety while healing my childhood trauma and managing my sensitivity, intensity and complexity was the best-worst thing that ever happened to me.
I became pregnant with my son just after my daughter turned one. I didn’t realize until much later that I was depressed throughout my pregnancy. As my womb grew, so did the pressures of parenting a toddler, the mental health burdens of untreated ADHD and Autism and triggers of unresolved trauma.
I did everything I could to escape my suffering and wear my glowing-peaceful-strong mama mask. But, a small courageous flame flickered deep inside me, and that part of me understood something was quite wrong. I couldn’t yet consciously name or identify what it was. So I went through my pregnancy not sharing, trying to play it cool and calm and raise my baby daughter despite debilitating exhaustion, chronic pain, nausea and low mood.
“If one has courage nothing can dim the light that shines from within.”
— Maya Angleou
The rolling snowball of anxiety and depression grew to avalanche proportions in the weeks after birth. I was struggling with insomnia, anxiety and overwhelm. My new baby needed to cry a lot and I found myself totally undone and sometimes infuriated by the crying. My daughter’s needs for comfort and reassurance were also expressed in behaviors that spiked my anxiety and triggered old wounds.
My brain wasn’t working as it used to. After ten every morning my cognition would crash. I couldn’t work through daily problems or challenges. I became obsessed with nap schedules and was too anxious to leave the house. I retreated from people and relationships.
I was totally overwhelmed, morbidly afraid of the inner magnitude of what I was enduring and profoundly ashamed.
Several dim months of barely clinging to my untenable inner world passed. During that time, I crashed between knowing something big needed to change and clinging to small triumphs that made me feel temporarily “OK.” Mostly, I was too exhausted, confused and scared of something being irrevocably wrong with me to reach out. I did make several visits to several different kinds of care providers, peeking occasionally from behind my mask to share that something felt “off.” Not one of those providers asked me the questions that would help them identify a postpartum mood disorder.
One day, in the loving presence of my midwife, I blew on my barely flickering flame of courageous self compassion and spoke up. My midwife said, “I don’t think you have postpartum depression.” I took a long breath that rattled with pain and potential and said, “I think I do.”
Naming it and allowing myself to be in struggle was the first step on my path of healing and becoming.
Suffering from and overcoming postpartum depression and anxiety was the hardest path I have ever walked. AND, the journey I took gifted me the most rich and treasured lessons of my life. With help, I was able to transform my suffering into power. I found my power to heal old wounds, soothe anxiety, and address acute depression. Later on I realized how my experience as an undiagnosed, high functioning and high masking AuDHD person impacted my mental health and began to unravel how this lead to mental health crisis in the postpartum. I live with more self compassion, presence and gratitude than ever before. My journey has given me fulfillment, purpose and meaning in showing up for other brave travelers on their path.
“As soon as healing takes place, go out and heal somebody else.”
— Maya Angelou
