Monica Pérez draws a masterful life lesson from this episode
The birth of a baby is a moment that every woman awaits with great joy, but in some cases it can turn into a nightmare with a first and last name: postpartum depression. At least that’s how our protagonist lived it, Monica Pérez, who despite having the experience of having a first child, the arrival of her second was a moment of internal crisis for her.
“My first daughter, now six years old, changed my life. I always say that she made me a better person by discovering that feelings are more important than material things and, by revealing to me, that my heart still had a hole for someone Until then I thought that with my mother, my husband, my nephews, my friends, and even with myself, I had discovered the true meaning of love, but I was wrong: Clara, that’s my eldest daughter’s name, showed me that I had much more love to give, and not only that, she upset my list of priorities: I was no longer the most important thing and that love that I gave her without receiving anything in return filled every second of my existence.
When I found out that I was pregnant with my second daughter, I thought that the maximum happiness that I felt was going to multiply by two or three. Unlike other mothers who believe that they will not love their second child the same as the first, I was clear about it. My pregnancy passed with the typical discomforts of this period: vomiting until the third or fourth month, a little sciatica, and loss of agility, continuous fatigue… but nothing mattered because my second daughter was going to arrive to put the icing on my life. I had a nice house, a job that made me feel fulfilled, a husband who loved me and a first daughter who had discovered what true happiness was.
The origins of my postpartum depression
- Maria came into the world one sunny spring day in a birth with hardly any pain or suffering for any of them. She was perfect: chubby, blonde and very pale! The first days in the hospital were marked by “relative tranquility”. We had to adapt to each other and we also had to adjust this situation with the other two main actors in our lives: her sister and her father. I decided, for everyone’s comfort and because I wanted to breastfeed, to practice co-sleeping, banishing her father to another room so that he could rest more.
- First error! I assumed all the responsibility of the girl, spending good nights where she woke up, she nursed and we snuggled together, even those in which I spent two hours to put her to sleep without any success. Everything in the middle of the night, when the feeling of loneliness became more acute and when the minutes seemed like hours and the hours days…
- Second mistake! I became so focused on Maria that I abandoned Clara almost completely. In her four years until then, I had been her reference, her guide, her friend, her playmate, her support and, from one day to the next, I disappeared from her radar! She suffered a lot and I began to feel bad for not being able to be by her side, it was the first time she had let her down! And that was how anguish and fear settled inside, tears became a constant during my days, the lack of appetite caused me a constant rejection of the food that my relatives prepare for me with so much love and the fatigue went away. Accumulating and accumulating. I was not happy! Suddenly, I didn’t want that girl… What had happened to me? I didn’t really know, but I was just thinking about why I got pregnant again, I was fine with my previous life but now… there was no turning back and I was plunged into a maze with no way out…
Psychological help, my best ally to combat postpartum depression
- Crying and with my baby girl in a carrying backpack, I went to my family doctor. I don’t really know why I was going, but I couldn’t continue like this. We ruled out that it was a thyroid problem and it confirmed what I had already started looking for on the internet: I had postpartum depression, something that is more common than many women believe but few, I imagine for fear of what they will say or feel pointed out, they do not confess. She recommended medication and, although I initially refused because I wanted to continue breastfeeding, my doctor consulted with the midwife and pediatrician at my health center and prescribed me some pills that are compatible with breastfeeding.
- The medication took weeks to take effect and I was still the same: crying, not wanting anything and looking at that girl almost with reluctance… I felt like I was in a jail to which I had been sent with a life sentence! I reached out to other moms who had been through the same thing – I wasn’t the only one! He was not a freak! But perhaps what helped me the most personally was resorting to psychological help. Previously, due to a family issue, I went through an episode of anxiety (they say that one of the factors that can influence postpartum depression is to have had a history of depression or anxiety and, on that occasion, I was in psychological treatment). It was the best decision I made at the time! The face-to-face or telephone consultations with my psychologist made me, little by little, remove the black clouds that prevented me from seeing the blue sky that hung over me every day. She made me understand that this was something temporary, that time was going to be my best medicine, that once I returned to my previous routine I would see everything with different eyes and that it was an experience that, although negative a priori, was going to help in other future episodes of my life. How right he was!
- Everything came true as he told me: the passage of time made me, little by little, see that plump, blonde and very white girl as part of me and my life; In the family we all rearranged our roles and made room for Maria and I. To this day and two years after that episode, I can say that I am stronger. I hit rock bottom, bit the ground, swallowed dust and, from there, came back stronger, more tenacious and feeling more empowered. There is life after postpartum depression.
To those who ask me if I would have a third, he answered with a laugh: impossible, the yogurt pack is four!”