I’d give anything to relive those early days with my baby just one more time.
The Overwhelming Reality of Motherhood
Motherhood can be overwhelming; we all know that. I remember one particularly exhausting day when I couldn’t even recall whether shredded cheese needed to be refrigerated, only for my partner to discover it in the microwave later that night. Another time, I realized I had forgotten to take off my nursing bra and underwear before stepping into the shower. In a moment of pure distraction, I even forgot my own son’s name.
These moments of forgetfulness are common among new parents; the relentless fatigue can create what my friend calls “Swiss cheese brain.” I experienced plenty of those instances, but I was also grappling with the suffocating grip of postpartum depression (PPD). Consequently, much of my son’s first year slipped through my fingers, leaving me feeling like a spectator in my own life. Viewing photos from that time feels like looking at strangers instead of cherished memories. Mentally, I was absent.
The Impact of Postpartum Depression
PPD has profoundly shaped my experience of motherhood, casting a shadow over my son’s early days and lingering long after. Now, five years later, I’m finally beginning to understand the impact it had on my life. One of the most painful realizations I’ve come to is how much precious time I lost with my son—time I can never reclaim. Though I was physically present, I was emotionally detached, merely going through the motions of caring for him. I was trapped in a cycle of depression and suicidal thoughts, with my only focus being to ensure my son was fed and safe. Happiness felt out of reach, and I couldn’t fully embrace my role as his mother.
It infuriates me.
A Common Struggle
Sadly, my experience is not unique; research indicates that 1 in 7 new mothers experience PPD, and that’s just the number who receive a diagnosis. Very few women come through new motherhood without emotional or physical challenges, and I was no exception.
My struggle with PPD began about a week after my son was born. It sneaks up on you, often presenting itself as mere exhaustion. Initially, it manifested as negative thoughts—like “You’re a terrible mother.” Then, after a good day, I’d convince myself it was just part of the chaos of new motherhood. But soon, it would return with a vengeance, telling me, “Your family would be better off without you.” After several cycles of this, I found myself submerged in depression, unaware of what was truly happening.
The Battle Within
I battled insomnia, uncontrollable anger (though never directed at my baby, I took it out on my walls and kitchen cabinets), and suicidal thoughts. I feared that seeking help would lead to hospitalization and separation from my child, or worse, that he might be taken from me. I found it hard to bond with my baby, emotionally shut off and unable to revel in motherhood. My existence revolved around survival: feed, change, and get the baby to sleep—repeat. I believed my only worth lay in breastfeeding, and once that was over, I had a plan for ending my life.
Finding Help
Fortunately, I sought help before it came to that. With medication and therapy, I gradually began to reclaim my life. I finally started to find joy in my baby and immerse myself in motherhood.
However, my journey didn’t conclude neatly. As anyone with mental health struggles knows, recovery is rarely straightforward. I faced setbacks, medication changes, and the everyday challenges of life. Just as PPD had crept into my life, it exited in fits and starts. I now take daily medication, possibly for life, and am constantly working on myself. Yet, I find myself longing for the baby with chubby legs and adorable cheeks. I couldn’t enjoy that time; I merely wished it away. Now that I’m healthy, I am grateful but also mournful about the lost moments.
Reflecting on Lost Moments
Looking at baby photos feels like a punch to the gut, reminding me of the small face and sweet babble I couldn’t fully appreciate. I miss that baby, the one I feel I never truly got to know.
I try to practice self-compassion. I remind myself that every mother endures exhaustion, pain, and suffering. I wasn’t alone in my experience. Furthermore, my brain wasn’t functioning in a healthy way. I don’t wish to relive those days; I simply wish I had been healthier and able to appreciate them more.
But I would give anything to see that tiny baby one more time, to hold him in my arms and truly marvel at him. To be fully present in a way that felt impossible back then.
The Transformation of Motherhood
Motherhood reshaped every part of me, splitting me open in profound ways. It changed me for the better but also tore me apart. The thing that hurts most now is the little baby I didn’t get a fair chance to know. He’s perfect now, but he was so perfect then, too. I just couldn’t see it.
Emily Carter has been embracing motherhood since 2016. She contributes to various parenting platforms and often shares candid moments of her life online. Her debut book, which explores the raw realities of the first year of motherhood, is set to be released in May 2023. She resides in the Bay Area with her husband, son, dog, three cats, and a partridge in a pear tree. Connect with her on Instagram at WittyOtter.
Further Resources
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Summary
This article reflects on the author’s experience with postpartum depression (PPD) during her son’s first year. Despite being physically present, she struggled emotionally and mentally, feeling detached from her role as a mother. After seeking help, she began to heal and appreciate her motherhood journey, but she still grapples with the loss of precious moments and memories from that time. The piece emphasizes the importance of self-compassion and understanding that many mothers face similar struggles.