That’s the thing about PPD/PPA…it doesn’t have to fit a mold or “make sense”. It doesn’t have to come from something obvious, it just happens to you without warning, and I felt so much shame for how I felt.

Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of becoming a mom. Playing house with my baby dolls was a regular occurrence for me, and as I grew up I pictured myself surrounded by tiny feet running around my home. I married my childhood sweetheart at 21, and we knew we didn’t want to wait too long before we started our family. Not two years into marriage, God gave us our first unexpected baby. Sadly, within weeks we would find out that our sweet miracle had gone back to heaven as we had a missed miscarriage. Seven more months went by as we waited for a sweet baby to join our family until we finally saw those beautiful words on a plastic stick once again…”pregnant”.

My pregnancy was filled with joy, visions of holding my baby, and excitement for this lifelong dream about to be fulfilled. I thanked God and prayed every day over my sweet son in my womb and couldn’t wait for the day we would meet.

The day had finally come. My water broke, and I knew he would be in my arms so soon. Little did I know that it would turn into a 51 hour labor with an unexpected transfer to the hospital, and a five day NICU stay due to stressed breathing at delivery. My birth held trauma, grief, and PTSD for months after delivery. To say I was in shock is an understatement, and I began my descent into a ten month trial like I had never experienced before— postpartum depression, anxiety, rage, insomnia, and grief.

I felt it was necessary to share the journey leading up to my rainbow baby’s arrival, as it has so much to do with the mental ache I experienced in postpartum. How could I be so sad when my answered prayer is right in front of me? How could I grieve the life I had wanted for so long? Why am I so lost within myself? It’s hard to say what exactly “causes” PPD/PPA, and I have ideas as to what may have contributed to my experience, but regardless of the reason, I was one of the moms who fell into the dark hole of postpartum mental health…and I never thought it would be me.

It’s hard to know where to start with this subject, as I feel I could write for days about my experiences and everyday heartbreaks of my journey through the fourth trimester…but I want to focus on one of the most difficult aspects I felt in this season: loneliness.

My mind was telling me from the moment I met my son, that I was failing as a mom. I wasn’t strong enough, I couldn’t be there for him like others could, or loving him like I thought I would. I was trying to cope with birth trauma, a baby who didn’t sleep (like ever), adjusting to nursing, inviting far too many visitors over to meet him, and baby blues quickly turning into something far worse than I ever imagined. All this and far more was suffocating me, and I convinced myself that everyone around me was judging me and observing my every move as a mother. Anxiety and depression are debilitating. Trying to keep up with my needs and my baby’s needs felt impossible. And even with a husband who took the best care of me, and a mom who was there for any other needs, I still felt utterly depleted and useless as a mom and person. Every day I felt more disconnected from myself, my son, my reality, and my God. That’s the thing about PPD/PPA…it doesn’t have to fit a mold or “make sense”. It doesn’t have to come from something obvious, it just happens to you without warning, and I felt so much shame for how I felt.

In the months following my son's birth, I had many close friends have their first babies as well. This season was something I had always looked forward to, and I felt so blessed to have friends to walk alongside in this season, hoping I wouldn’t feel so alone. One by one they had their babies, and no mother has it easy, trust me. But no one was experiencing quite what I was experiencing as a mom, or at least that’s what it felt like. So shame further crept into my mind and I started to hide my true feelings out of fear that they would see I wasn’t a good mom like them or didn’t love motherhood like they did. I know now that these feelings were not all true, but it felt real to me at the time. I would share just enough truth to keep myself honest, but would hide the reality I felt inside every day. I felt such dread every day, and grieved to even feel the way I did in the life I had been given. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. My son wouldn’t sleep, but he was healthy and so was I, and nothing was “happening”, yet my brain was stuck in a survival state for 10 months convincing me that I was no good, and I wasn’t cut out for this life.

All these lies kept me in a prison, disconnected from everyone around me. I hadn’t known loneliness like this until postpartum. I think what made me feel most alone was that I couldn’t even connect to myself. For months I grieved who I was before I was a mother because PPD/PPA made me someone I didn’t recognize. Motherhood is so beautiful, but for many, it is also the most ugly version of themselves they’ve had to face.

Even as I write this over a year after my son’s birth, I still feel the sting of shame trying to sneak in and tell me I’m the only one who has ever felt this way. But I know this isn’t true, and I feel it vital to share the truth so that even one mom won’t feel as lonely as I did. You are not alone. You are not the only one who has thought scary things. Your mind isn’t reliable or truthful in the most intense hormone shift in the human experience, and I can’t tell you how important it is to talk about your feelings out loud to someone you trust. I kept it out in the open as much as I could with my husband and family and it gave me a place to pour out. Not everyone will listen to you the way you hope, and sometimes that hurts. I certainly did my fair share of oversharing with the wrong people, and I think that can cause unnecessary pain when that person isn’t being intentionally hurtful. It’s just an experience that is difficult to explain if you haven’t been through it yourself, and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. In my experience, I found that finding your safe person to be open with is essential to getting through the valleys, and if therapy is an option, I think it could be a great tool and something I wish I had done.

My relationship with God struggled more than ever during this season, and I’m still talking to him about events that took place that I still don’t understand, and that’s okay. Talking to God openly was something that helped me heal, and over time He revealed Himself to me and brought me strength beyond my understanding. I am so thankful to be where I am today, and all glory goes to God for this beautiful life I’m living. I love my son with my whole being, and now I can look back and see how far I’ve come. I’ve only become stronger through this experience, and if you are in the fight, you too will come out of this as a warrior.

My story is just one experience of endless others, and I only hope to see more women share their stories of perseverance in such a vulnerable time in life. Even when you feel lost in this new role, you are the perfect mom for your baby. Grief and gratitude can coexist, and I promise that gratitude will win in the end. You are not alone.

Disclaimer: This article is based on personal experience only, not to be used as medical advice. If you believe you are struggling with your ppd or ppa, consult a medical professional.