Facing the reality of postpartum depression

Facing the Reality of Postpartum Depression

Postpartum depression changed my life.

I let my postpartum depression go untreated for a long time after my son was born. I suffered needlessly — and my husband suffered too.

A therapist very kindly referred me to a female psychiatrist, more than once. But I refused. I was nursing, and those nursing times were the best parts of my day. They were soothing. I could sit, breathe, and feel the love between us. I did not want to expose my baby to medication through my breastmilk — especially not daily antidepressants.

Seventeen years ago, there was very little accessible, peer-reviewed research for consumers about the safety of psychotropic medications during pregnancy and breastfeeding. Today, there is far more clarity. Resources like MotherToBaby provide evidence-based information and even free consultations with teratogen specialists to help families make informed decisions with their physicians.

The current literature makes something very clear:There are risks in not treating. And there are risks in treating.

But now we have solid data showing the relative safety of certain antidepressants during pregnancy and breastfeeding. I wish I had access to this information back then.

Risk Factors I Didn’t Fully Understand

Looking back, I had several risk factors:

• A prior depressive episode beginning with menarche

• Leaving my professional identity to become a stay-at-home mother

• Moving 50 miles away to a more rural part of New Jersey

• Isolation and lack of nearby support

  
  

The first year was extraordinarily difficult. I was tearful, exhausted, and ashamed. Not every day was terrible — but many were very heavy.

What surprises me is that a trace of shame still lingers, even though I now work every day with people tending to their mental health.

Postpartum depression can feel like an imposter. It lives on the same emotional continuum as normal postpartum adjustment — but it goes deeper and lasts longer.

The Seismic Identity Shift of Motherhood

I was thirty-six when my son was born. I had never even changed a diaper.

Becoming a mother caused a seismic shift in my identity and sense of self-worth. I did not fully understand the pressure it would place on my husband as sole breadwinner. I did not grasp how vulnerable a woman becomes after childbirth. I did not understand how small the safety net is in America — or how devalued mothering can feel.

You can also read more about the emotional identity shifts of early motherhood in my article on Matrescence.

Our marriage deepened and expanded from “we-ness” to “three-ness.” But it also strained under exhaustion and emotional overload.

We were too tired to reflect. We were surviving.

The Loneliness

I remember going mall-walking one snowy day when my son was eight weeks old. I was desperately lonely. When I told a salesperson his age, she said, “I wouldn’t take such a young baby out. I’d be afraid.”

I walked away feeling criticized and ashamed.

So many people offered unsolicited advice. I know they meant well. But I felt confused, judged, and alone.

That is the quiet ache so many mothers carry.

Healing and Meaning

In the years that followed, I searched for meaning. I studied and practiced shiatsu, acupressure, and mindfulness. I eventually healed.

Motherhood was a time of profound emotionality — depression, loneliness, joy, maturation — all intertwined. With great pain came fertile ground for long-term growth.

Motherhood changes you forever.

Because of my own struggle with postpartum depression, I am deeply committed to helping other mothers feel less alone and more informed.

If you are struggling, you are not weak — you are navigating one of the most profound identity shifts a human being can experience. Support and informed care matter.

If you would like to explore the research and books that inform my work in perinatal mental health, you can visit the Perinatal Mental Health Literature CAT, where I curate trusted resources for parents and professionals.