After I had my second baby, things felt different. At first, I attributed it to so many other things in the world and my life being different. We were living through a pandemic. I already had a toddler to chase after, in addition to caring for this new infant. Everything just felt harder. I had resigned myself to this just being how life with two small kids feels.
It took a long time to even seek a diagnosis for what I was experiencing, because what I was feeling didn’t feel like what I expected postpartum depression to feel like. I cried sometimes, for sure, but I wouldn’t have described myself generally, as sad.
I hardly talked about what I was feeling, in part because I really didn’t know how to describe it. I began seeing a therapist, and every week they would ask the typical depression screening questions, and every week I scored below the threshold for clinical depression.
It wasn’t until I was on medication and starting to feel like my old self again, that I realized how depressed I was, and how much my behavior had changed over the last year. Often in seemingly minor, but important ways. One of these things on it’s own might not feel like anything even worth mentioning, but it adds up.
What Postpartum Depression Looked Like for Me
I started sleeping – a lot. So much so, that I really wasn’t doing much beyond what absolutely had to get done. In hindsight, changes in sleep patterns can be an indicator of depression, but for me, I genuinely felt tired ALL of the time, so I assumed the tiredness was just because of never getting a break as a mom of young kids, or maybe a hormonal imbalance.
I stopped wearing my apple watch because it felt like a reminder of how inactive I had become. I was very aware of how much I was sleeping – and how little else I was doing -and I didn’t need another reminder of that.
I stopped updating the family digital photo album. This one feels silly to even admit to, but I just didn’t have the mental energy to do it. I remember my husband once asking if I could update it, and I snapped. What he thought was an innocent reminder of a simple operational task felt like a brutal reminder of the shell I had become.
I stopped singing in the car. I hadn’t even noticed this until I started singing in the car the other day and couldn’t remember the last time I did that – something I used to love.
I bought supplies to do household projects and then never felt up to actually executing those projects.
I showed up empty handed to my nephews birthday party because I just couldn’t coordinate myself to buy a present ahead of time.
I (almost) didn’t throw a birthday party for my three year old. It just felt too overwhelming to plan. In the end, my mom stepped in and made sure it happened. As someone who used to literally make up excuses to have a party, this one was a big change for me.
Sending thank you notes to the attendees of the above mentioned birthday party felt impossible, and I still haven’t written or sent them. I used to pride myself in performing these sorts of traditional niceties.
I stopped initiating social activities. This was another big one for me. I rarely turned down an invite, so for me, the depression screening question, “do you have little interest in activities?” didn’t resonate. But I had forgotten that I used to be the one always making the plans, looking for things to do, not just accepting invites when they were extended.
I started cancelling on plans I had committed to. I usually blamed them on the kids not cooperating, or nap time not aligning, but sometimes those were just excuses to save me from having to say, “I just don’t feel up to it today”.
I stopped reading my emails, texts, direct messages…I would go days waiting to feel ‘ready’ to respond.
I stopped answering the phone when friends would call because the thought of idle chit-chat gave me a pit in my stomach.
I stopped really engaging in play with my toddler. I wasn’t fully aware of how much I had pulled away from this until I began engaging again. The other day, we sat on the floor and turned a cardboard box into a house. Six months ago, I did not have the mental energy for anything like this.
I think the most surprising part about all of this for me is that my life didn’t altogether stop. I still maintained a job, made sure the kids were fed, got the car to the repair shop. I still did (most of) the things that absolutely had to get done. I still had the ability to enjoy (some) things and joke around (sometimes). I expected postpartum depression to take a more wholistic toll.
I’m still working on getting back to feeling like ‘me’ again, but I can at least see her in the distance.
If you are experiencing symptoms of depression, please seek professional help.
