Post-Partum Depression after my Miscarriages

  I don't think I could ever find the right place to start writing about the depths of despair I had felt after my miscarriages this last year. I knew that getting pregnant and being a Catholic mom open to life came with the heavy cross that I could lose my pregnancy or my life, but I never actually thought it would happen to me.

    Looking back now, it is almost strange that the first time I ever got pregnant that I lived in a joyful bliss. I wouldn't take back a moment of that bliss and I miss the ignorant way of life I lived in my first pregnancy. I hiked, milked cows, worked with horses, and it barely crossed my mind that I could lose the most valuable gift in my life, my son. I was proud to have stayed active throughout my pregnancy and I worked hard to keep toned. I recall telling close family members almost immediately about our pregnancy and I wanted to scream on the top of a mountain.  I was so beyond excited that I never knew or thought that the sight of me, a pregnant mother, could possibly be a the hardest thing for someone dealing with infertility and loss.

    I didn't know the term secondary infertility, but I felt the effects of it every month after I had my son. I was so excited to grow our family the moment I had my son I just knew I wanted to have another child as quickly as possible. There is nothing in life that I have found comparable to the euphoric feeling of having my first son. It was so  magically miraculous. I found that any doubt I had in miracles was replaced with an endless fountain of faith after I experienced becoming a mother.


     It was not until my son was getting closer to his third birthday that I really started to worry about my fertility. It had even crossed my mind that my body could possibly be miscarrying before I was getting a positive pregnancy test, but I would try and brush that sad thought aside. Last year, February 2016, I finally was able to get pregnant, my son was turning three in June. Everything was going fairly normal, but my morning sickness was not as intense as it was with my son and I would worriedly call my doctor who would reassure me every pregnancy was different.  We were so beyond excited and planned on telling our families with Easter pictures.

    The weekend after Easter, I was supposed to be 10 weeks along, but something wasn't right. I felt a few cramps, but again I was reminded by everyone that every pregnancy is different.  Then came my worst nightmare, blood. I felt my heart sink to a new low. I just knew in my heart that things were not right.

    At the time, I was out of town visiting family and was unable to see my personal doctor, so I went to the hospital to see what was going on. I was told the most devasting news I had ever received, that my baby had stopped growing at 6 weeks gestation and they had termed it a blighted ovum. My heart felt so utterly crushed.  I felt guilt wash over me, regardless of the fact that I did not purposely try to hurt my baby my soul felt a bone crushing guilt of letting down my sweet baby.

   After I finally got home: post-partum depression, is the only way I feel that I can describe the feeling of utter despair. I could not leave the house with out breaking down sobbing for what felt like eternity.  I could barely look at my son, suddenly his sweet face that had brought me such joy became a reminder of what I had lost. I felt awful for feeling this way towards my son, but his sweet little voice and his own broken heart ( he would constantly cry about the loss of our baby too)  tore me up. I had such a hard time playing with him, something that always brought me such great joy, became a cross. Just watching him play alone brought such sadness to my already despairing heart.

  I have been told that post-partum depression is very hard for mothers after having a baby, but I never heard anything about mothers who had lost a baby experiencing it.  I had been very nervous after having my first son and I would check on him constantly. I recall feeling so happy that I was worried something wrong would happen just because I felt that feeling of such great joy could not last long. But, I never recall feeling depressed, full of despair, like a failure ( except maybe when it came to figuring out breastfeeding), nor did I ever feel intense guilt. With my first son I felt unending joy.

   It was crazy how low I felt. I no longer wanted to even see the mom friends I had worked so hard to make. Their joy, their aggravation with their "children" fighting, their beautiful pregnant bodies, and all around every thing would bring me to an unending flow of tears. I felt like a time bomb and at any moment I could break down crying uncontrollably. It was an out of body experience and I no longer felt any control over my emotions. I would not wish the awful feelings of the grief and loss of a child on my worst enemies.

   My relationship with my husband was rocked. Our marriage was hit hard with the blow of our loss, and I often wondered if I would ever feel anything but empty ever again. My husband, the greatest man I could have ever been blessed to walk this insane path with, had to not only tend to our son but my broken heart as well. I can't even imagine the strength he had to bare for our family. While I was physically recovering and mentally a mess he had to carry the burden of our pain in a much quieter way.  He silently would carry on day after day at work  and some how come home to my sadness and still find a place in his heart to lift us all up.

   I didn't think I would ever want to be near another child or pregnant women again. One of the hardest things I ever had to do was leave my house and attend a playgroup gathering for my son. It was one of the first few times I had left my house, but I knew my son need normalcy again and I was determined to give him that. Most of my  mom friends were very aware of my situation, but few had no idea. My good friend was due just weeks before my due date and the sight of her healthy pregnancy cut like a sword. I  felt awful for feeling that way towards her, but it was again as if my emotions were on hyper crazy. Then  a mother sitting next to me commented about how hard it was having two children and commented about how I was lucky to only have one, she was unaware of my losses.

   My son, being all out of whack from our family's loss, was acting out durning the entire play group and I could not handle a minute longer. We left in disarray, I suddenly had what I can only describe as a  total mental breakdown. As I was driving, I uncontrollably could not stop screaming, out of the depths of my soul all the pain I was feeling came out in an insane shriek. I was beyond embarrassed and felt awful for losing it in front of my sweet innocent son.

 I felt the resources and I still feel the resources for post-partum depression after a miscarriage are very limited. I did not know where to go. I was blessed to have found other mothers who had become a support system. From online facebook groups to mothers in my area I could not imagine having to face those feelings alone. I am very thankful for social media and the internets vast amount of information and I don't know where  I would be mentally with out these resources.

  Today, I am out of the depths of despair but I know that at any moment I could be right back to those dark days. I pray for those going through the pains of loss whether it is through miscarriage, abortion, or to any mother who has ever lost a living child. I pray for those going through infertility and repetitive loses. My heart is with you all mamas around the globe that have ever had to face the darkest days of your life and wonder how you will look at yourself in the mirror again. I don't know if there will suddenly be better mental help for all the families that have had to struggle in these ways, but I do know that if we are to unite our pain and suffering through prayer that God will see our prayers and transform this suffering into something more beautiful than we could have ever imagined.

Blessings,

Christine