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Post-Partum
Depression
A mother's
story in three parts.
By Lauri Jean Crowe
Published December 2000
Lauri Jean Crowe writes
about the depression associated with human
reproduction and the terrible consequences
of allowing Prozac to be part of the treatment.
- Part One:
My Struggle with Post-Partum Depression.
- Part Two:
Post-Partum Depression: Where Am I Now?
- Part Three:
Losing Vision: The Struggle of the Eye
and the Soul.
Originally three separate
articles, they are presented here together
in sequence.
Part One:
In 1997, shortly after my marriage I became
pregnant for the first time. It was a pregnancy
fraught with trouble from the start. Hypertension
and low thyroid function quickly caused
me to be pre-eclamptic and at just 12 weeks
I was put on total bed rest. Quite a shocker
after going to the doctor for what I though
to be intestinal flu, after being told several
years earlier I could never have children.
Still, my son was born in July 1998, healthy
even though born pre-term.
Just two months later I was rushed to the
emergency room for gallbladder surgery.
They removed the organ and over two-hundred
stones. In December, after a routine pap
smear I found that I had pre-cancerous cells
on my cervix and surgery must be done to
remove them. Still, I was a happy mom. I
had my miracle baby, and these other things
seemed inconsequential compared to that.
However, at times my mood would dip because
I was still very ill despite the pregnancy
having gone to term. I never quite had the
time to recover between birth and the surgeries.
So, six weeks after the surgery on my cervix,
my husband and I happily went to bed, not
to sleep. It was the first time we’d
really had any couple time since the birth
of our son, as I was either too ill or having
surgery. We didn’t expect that on Valentine’s
day I’d have another bout of the “flu”
and be pregnant again. Still not recovered
from the first pregnancy, I was thrilled
that we were going to have yet another little
miracle, but the instant bed rest was awful
with one baby already.
Eventually this got to me. I began having
crying spells that would sometimes last
for hours, and the littlest thing like my
husband not taking out the garbage the moment
I asked him to would send me into fits of
anger. This behavior wasn’t like me,
but I wasn’t willing to admit anything
was wrong besides the stress of two difficult
back to back pregnancies until I found myself
weeping on the kitchen floor unable to even
get up. I was suffering from severe post-partum
depression.
Fortunately, once I asked for help my OBGYN
and primary care physician both recognized
the signs and recommended Prozac. It’s
one of the few drugs considered safe for
the treatment of depression in pregnancy.
I’d heard all the horror stories about
Prozac and was quite against trying it,
but it was at the point where I either had
to try the drug or face the reality of committing
myself for in-patient care and leaving my
husband and child. I made it until my seventh
month before I had to have medication, and
at the time that seemed like a tremendous
accomplishment on my part. In reality, it
was a huge strain on my marriage and family.
I was started at 20 mg daily, and that was
upped to 40 mg shortly after my second son
was born, also pre-term, but healthy in
October. I also had weekly therapy sessions
with a social worker to discuss my feelings
and bewilderment at the prospect of being
a mother of two children when I thought
I couldn’t get pregnant in the first
place. It was a lot to deal with, and the
biggest thing to deal with for me was the
depression itself because it made me feel
like a failure.
I’ve reached the point where the fog
has lifted and I feel good again. The Prozac
helped me get there. So did the regular
therapy sessions and keeping track of my
dreams. I found that by writing down my
dream experiences, and then analyzing them
for somatic causes verses mental ones I
could see more clearly the tensions in my
waking hours, and begin to slowly deal with
them. Now, I am in the process of weaning
off the Prozac, but I still keep my dream
journal and have moved to monthly visits
to my therapist. The doctors feel I’m
over the post-partum depression and I feel
like I have control of my life again.
Depression is an illness I never thought
I would personally deal with. And it’s
still shocking to me after being on Prozac
for six months post-partum. In researching
the illness I’ve found that it’s
considered transient, and also that many
woman don’t get help because like me,
they feel like they’ve somehow failed
as a mother to need help. I’m hoping
that sharing the success of my story and
battle with post-partum depression will
aid those who need help in seeking it. Each
person must deal with their depression as
they see fit, but sometimes you must get
medication or an outside perspective from
a qualified professional in order to see
through the fog.
Part Two:
I wrote, My Struggle With Post-Partum Depression
in April 2000. Things were just beginning
to look up and my depression had cleared
when I found out that my husband had decided
to quit taking his lithium for his bipolarism,
and to stop seeing his psychiatrist. It
was about two weeks after that when I found
out he had not been taking his medication
for some time and hadn’t been taking
it correctly since February. Although I
could have easily gotten back on Prozac
as a crutch (and I thought about it) or
dipped headlong into another depression,
I didn’t. To me this was a sure sign
that I was on the right path to heal myself.
Rather than wallow in all the bad that was
happening and dwell on my husband’s
role in my post-partum depression (he had
been very verbally abusive during my last
pregnancy and thereafter due to his bipolar
episodes), I focused on what I could personally
do to make the situation better.
So, I began researching more online writing
venues, and building my career again. I
had stopped working when I became pregnant
with my first son due to bed rest and hadn’t
really gone back to work except for an article
here and there since my pregnancies. I’d
been living either for my kids, or for my
husband and I began to recognize that a
lot of my post-partum depression was because
I had lost a lot of self-time and wasn’t
nurturing myself at all. So, I did what
I needed to do for my family, tried to improve
my relationship with my husband, but devoted
at least 3 hours a day to myself, either
writing, taking a bath or reading. Sometimes
I just went for a drive. This time for my
self kept me out of a depressive slump.
My husband refused marriage counseling,
as well as to get back on the treatment
protocol for his own depression. Our marriage
hit the rocks and kept crumbling into pieces
of flying dirt despite my best efforts.
I was diagnosed with atrial fibrillation
and autoimmune hepatitis as well as other
liver problems in July and August 2000.
In mid-August I had to spend a week in the
hospital with heart trouble and my husband
didn’t even bother to come see me.
This led to a good cry, but not a depressive
one. I knew something had irrevocably changed
and that things were indeed over between
us because he wouldn’t get help for
his illness, and I was. On August 22, my
husband in the midst of an argument asked
me if I wanted him to leave. I said “Yes”.
That one simple act is what kept me from
becoming depressed again. I took charge
of my life again, more than I had at any
other time since my pregnancy. I filed restraining
orders on my husband due to threats he had
made, and on August 28, my birthday, I signed
the divorce papers.
It’s been a real struggle but I have
not gone back into a depressive slump. And
the breakup of my marriage was just icing
on a very sad cake. Exactly one month to
the day my husband left, my 2 year old son
was diagnosed with nephrotic syndrome, a
rare but potentially devastating kidney
disease. My husband came to the hospital
for our son and I had to spend 3 days sleeping
in the same hospital room, where he insisted
on going through all the bad in our marriage.
I felt shattered again, I finally decided
I needed to go see the psychiatrist who
had first put me on Prozac. That was yesterday,
October 3.
As I was speaking to him, I realized I didn’t
need to be there. The stresses in my life
were affecting me, as they should, but I
was having normal reactions to them. I was
taking the steps to get things accomplished.
When I cried it was justified and traceable
to a specific, rational reason. The psychiatrist
asked me if I wanted to go back on anti-depressant
medications. My reaction was “No”.
Again, a simple little word, but it placed
the power and responsibility in my hands
instead of that of another or a pharmaceutical.
I was pronounced, “not clinically depressed”
and the psychiatrist suggested that if anything
I might want to look into a divorce support
group.
It will take a minimum of six months for
my divorce to be finalized because I have
minor children. My son is on an intensive
16 week protocol of steroids, antibiotics
and blood pressure medications with a lot
of home monitoring and clinic visits for
his kidney condition. My own physical health
problems are chronic and lasting. However,
since my struggle with post-partum depression
I have found new methods of coping that
have made me a stronger individual who won’t
give in to the demon of depression again.
I have too much to live for, and I want
to live it in the open, in the light, instead
of the dark shadows of my mind.
Authors endnote:
Since writing
this article, my husband and I have decided
to work toward reconciliation with the caveat
that he seek and maintain medical treatment
for his illness. However, it will be another
long hard struggle and I am not certain
the outcome will be a happy one. I have
not gone back into depression or on Prozac.
Life has it’s trials. I’m ready
to meet them.
Part Three:
I was in the eighth month of my second
pregnancy when I began losing vision in
my right eye. They thought it was pre-eclampsia
again, or maybe a small stroke. The doctors
put me on one baby aspirin a day, just in
case it was a clotting problem. This did
absolutely nothing.
After delivery, they told me the condition
would most likely vanish. Nope. It only
got worse. Have you ever changed a diaper
and suddenly lost the view of the fecal
matter you were trying to clean. Your head
spins. It's even worse if you're driving
down the road and suddenly have just one
eye.
There's a saying that the eyes are the window
to the soul. Given that precept, does it
mean that as I slowly lose my vision in
my eye I am losing a part of my soul? Or
just closing off the ability of others to
look at it?
Do the ten minute sprees of blurriness mean
that I am having a spiritual crises? And
are the four hour ones more profound? Nope.
I'm just going blind for some indefinable
reason.
This has affected my art. You see things
much more impressionistically through a
blurred haze. Suddenly Monet seems to have
made sense. You start to hate realists.
And, well my writing has changed too. You
look inward more even as your eye cannot
look out.
It seems strange to me that this gelatinous
blue orb should so profoundly affect me
with its failures. But it has. It continues
to. Sometimes I have fantasies of just popping
it out, holding it in my hand and seeing
if the soul is still inside.
Of course, I'd never do it. I love my vision,
like being able to see my children's eyes
reflect back into mine. So, whether this
is a spiritual crises or merely an anatomical
one, I'll keep my failing vision and my
ever changing perspective.
Author’s endnote:
I am now a full
year post-partum, and although my perspective
is still ever changing it isn’t encumbered
by a medical condition. Six months after
I had my second son I went off of the Prozac
which had been administered for my post-partum
depression. It was strange to be both out
of the mental fog that state of mind had
placed me in, as well as to find out that
it was the Prozac which was causing my vision
to be faulty.
Medications have strange side effects. Orbs
swell, blood vessels scream faster and faster.
The skin breaks out in rashes and sometimes
it’s hard to breath. That seems a lot
like life to me. What I don’t understand
are those who will continue with medication
instead of life. Something common in cases
of post-partum depression. Now there is
a spiritual crisis.
Writer:
Lauri Jean Crowe is a freelance writer known
for such diverse topics as dreams, sexuality,
gardening, health and parenting. She is
a freelance writer, artist and designer
living in Michigan, USA. Lauri Jean welcomes
feedback at vu-writer@earthlink.net and
is seeking serious individuals who wish
to be interviewed about all aspects of sexuality.
To learn more about this writer and her
diverse skills follow these links
The
Living Herbal
Managing
Editor, Customs, Etiquette, Folklore
Contributing
Editor, The Art & Science of Dreams
Short
Story Editor at Mocha Memoirs
Index
of writers, the-vu
About
Lauri Jean Crowe's own dreams
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