My Post-Birth Plan

I started this blog as a way to help me share the reality and recovery of Postpartum Depression (PPD). I had heard of it before I had Andrew, but I thought it was something easily cured with some exercise and an attitude adjustment. 

Nothing could have prepared me for the storm that hit me.

 I had just had a baby. I should have been on cloud nine. I had every reason to be happy! Instead I was thrown into this dark, cold pit in a corner of my mind that I didn't even know existed. And it seemed that the harder I tried to climb out, the higher the walls got. 

I tried to hide it. And I thought I was doing a pretty good job. It's so easy to post a smiling face to Instagram and Facebook and say something creative. But those closest to me saw how badly I needed help. Tyler begged me to see my doctor. My mom gently suggested it multiple times. Even my boss at work pulled me aside to talk to me about it. And it wasn't until I caught myself fully ready to end my life that I finally caved. I didn't notice a difference when I started the medication. But everyone else saw a huge improvement. Tyler wrapped me in a tight hug and said, "Its so good to have you back!" 

And after a while, I was back. Thanks to A LOT of help and encouragement. But I was back. And it felt so good to finally smile at myself in the mirror and say, "I did it. I survived. I'm here. I WON. And I'm HAPPY!" I was living the life I had always wanted to live as a mother. I was thriving in my role, loving our new house and my wonderful Furlong boys. 

One day in late June we were all outside enjoying the sun. Andrew had on his Superman cape that is way too long for him and Tyler was tossing him dangerously high (a mother's exaggeration) as I watched from the porch. I reflected on how content we were in our Maybrooke home. And then I got the impression that someone was missing. It was like a spirit quietly tapping on my heart. "Don't forget me, mom." I told Tyler about it but we fully agreed that we wouldn't try for another baby for another year or so. 

Two months later I found out I was pregnant again, despite the pill I had religiously taken. Andrew was only 9 months old. It was too soon for me. "I can't do it again," I prayed out loud from the bathroom floor. I stared down at the four positive tests sitting neatly in front of me. They blurred through my tears. " I'm not ready. I don't think I can beat it again. I can't go back in the dark. I can't do this." 

I called Tyler and my mom to share the happy news and my fear of the depression. They both comfort and encouraged me, and Tyler gave me a beautiful priesthood blessing that night. I needed to be patient and all would be well. Benjamin was coming for a reason. And I loved him already. 

I have hard pregnancies with Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG). And this pregnancy has been nothing like my first. But I have tried so hard to keep a positive attitude. I often play "The Glad Game" from one of my favorite childhood movies Pollyanna. But it was sometimes hard to find something to be glad about when I had to drag that darn IV pole to put Andrew in his crib screaming so I could clean up the hulk-green stomach acid and blood I had deposited in the hall- a failed attempt to get to the bathroom in time. 

As my HG has become manageable and I am able to function like a real mother again, I'm getting more and more excited for another baby. I am now 32 weeks and I recently started having nightmares about after Benjamin is born. About the depression. I wake up crying and shaking. I am absolutely terrified it will come back. I'm worried that this time it will be worse, or that this time I won't recover. It makes me wish I still had months and months of puking left to go. Tyler needs me. Andrew and Benjamin need me. And I can't be the wife and mother they need if I'm not mentally healthy. 

So, Tyler and I are writing a Post-Birth Plan. I don't write Birth Plans. They are kind of a joke in my family. (Just my personal opinion. There is nothing wrong with them.) But I love the idea of a Post-Birth Plan. It helps me feel more in control of what may or may not happen in the weeks following Benjamin's arrival. The best advice a friend and fellow PPD survivor gave me about PPD is to expect and prepare for it. 

Maybe I'm overreacting? Maybe everything will be just fine and I'll be perfectly happy. But as one who suffers from anxiety, it's good for me to feel prepared if things take a wrong turn. 

My Post-Birth Plan includes things like who to call when I need help or feel overwhelmed. Plans for me to sleep as much as I can to avoid severe exhaustion. Plans to go outside and get fresh air, walking to the park down our street, date nights, and things Tyler will do to help me along the way as much as he can. It includes a time line of things to watch for, signs that I need help. How long will I wait before seeking medical attention and the kind of medical care I wish to receive. 

A lot of things are going to be different about this birth. I'm determined to breastfeed (Exclusively pumping for six months again is not an option this time. I felt like a cow. It's all or nothing and I'm definitely giving it my all.) I'm determined to give myself time to heal and not expect a quick recovery. I'm determined to let myself rest instead if stressing about a messy bedroom. I'm determined to have the best attitude I can. 

I can't wait to see his face. Will he have red hair like Andrew? Dimples? Will he be long and skinny, like his dad? Or plump like his big brother? I can't wait to see Andrew hold him for the first time. I can't wait to feed him and sing to him and get a chance to enjoy the weeks as a newborn. It will be hard. I'm probably going to cry a lot. But that's ok. I will be ok. I know I am a daughter of God. I have worth. This is my calling. Every calling has trials. And there is no trial we can't handle. And that it is very ok to ask for help. I have support. I have faith. I am not alone. I CAN DO THIS!