My Struggle With Mental Illness: The Telltale Signs Of Postpartum Depression I Should Have Recognized

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I have an eighteen month old son, and I am so glad I have an opportunity through your blog to share my struggle with postpartum depression, and the telltale signs of postpartum depression I should have recognized from the get-go. Since my brush with postpartum depression, I have been bogging my friends with it, telling everyone about it, much like a trade secret I want to spread!

Why? Because postpartum depression is serious business and yet we don’t talk about it enough. We don’t educate expecting parents enough. In fact I am of the strong view that the same way expectant women are taught about diet, rest, self-care and fetal developmental stages is the same way postpartum depression and other postpartum related mental illnesses should be treated. Women should be taught to look out for the signs of postpartum depression, and be aware it is a mental illness. Every new mom should be able to recognize the signs when they start, so they don’t take root and wreck lives.

I dated my husband for four years before we were married. We met at KNUST, I was a first year civil engineering student and he, a final year pharmacy student. Most of my classmates told me we would not last, and that relationships like ours had a short lifespan. But we managed to hold on to each other. Even after he graduated, he made every effort to stay connected and keep us going. We were and still are best friends, I love his company, I love how he treats me and I am always very conscious of how I treat him too.

In the second semester of my final year, I realized I was pregnant. I found out early because I was very sick. Apart from the morning sickness, the trepidation I felt about telling my parents made me a nervous wreck. My father is a Minister of the Methodist Church of Ghana, and my mom, his faithful, dutiful wife in the Lord. Even before I told them, I could envision their condemnation and disdain. So I told my boyfriend and suggested we terminate the pregnancy.

I still remember the look he gave me, but it is what he said that still rings in my ears. He said, “I fear God’s condemnation more than I fear your parent’s righteous anger. We already sinned by fornication,we are not killing our child.”

Gabby took me home to his parents and told them we were expecting. They were very wonderful and comforting, they told me to calm down and that all will be well. That weekend they, along with Gabby, went with me to break the news to my parents, ask for forgiveness and also for a way forward.

As expected, my parents were furious and disappointed with me. My father looked me in the eye and said, “Shame on you.”

My mother was just bummed all her grand wedding plans had gone to ruin. We had a small marriage ceremony; I was too sick for pomp and circumstance.

After my final exams I moved in with my in-laws so they could help take care of me. My pregnancy was a difficult one, I required a lot of bed rest and contant medical care.

In the final weeks of my pregnancy, I noticed my severe mood change, I was extremely sad and fatigued. But I chalked it to the pregnancy, it had been a long, hard road. And the lack of support from my parents weighed heavily on me. So I expected it all to go away after my baby was born.

Except it didn’t. It got worse.

I spent three days at the hospital after giving birth. And all I wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and cry. No one, not even the professionals recognized my behavior as one of the many signs of postpartum depression; they said it was normal behavior for new mothers to want to sleep, and be emotional. Baby blues they called it.

When my mom came to see me, I just lay there and cried. She thought the tears were tears of my remorse for getting pregnant out of wedlock, so she assured me I was forgiven. I didn’t know exactly why I was crying, so I agreed with her and let her comfort and pray for me.

Before I left the hospital, the attending physician told me to report back if I ever had thoughts of harming myself or my child, and that it could be signs of depression. But I really never had any thoughts of harming myself or my child so I never thought to probe into it.

I went back to my in-laws who as usual were kind and wonderful; my husband was away at school in the United Kingdom. But my baby blues didn’t get better. It got worse. Three months later, I was still always fatigued and sad. All I was able to do was breastfeed, bath and sleep. The extreme fatigue, and my consequent inability to help in the home made me so ashamed and guilty. Even though my in-laws never said anything to make me feel that way. And that feeling of inadequacy made me sadder and gloomier.

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There were nights I wept like I had lost my child, alone in my bedroom with my child, I soaked my pillow with tears. Cried myself to sleep. And I never told anyone. How do you open up to people about always crying and being sad when you don’t even know why?

My in-laws assumed my gloom was due to my husband’s absence. And so when he returned, they were overjoyed to send me packing to his home. I was about six months postpartum.

So here I was struggling with a mental illness, postpartum depression, yet unaware, and now I was fully responsible for my baby.

Gradually, my sadness gave way to rage. And I became a complete total bitch. I was so mean and disrespectful to my husband, I picked on everything he did, complained about everything and turned every discussion into a disrespectful screaming match. I still remember how he would flinch when I entered the room. Truth is the misery I felt weighed too heavily on me, and I had to project it on him.

I still didn’t make the connection that all these were signs of postpartum depression, because I still had no thoughts of harming myself or my baby. It didn’t occur to me that the unexplained fatigue, sadness and unprovoked rage were signs of something deeper; that my mind was broken.

Oneday, when our son was about nine months old, after one of my outbursts, my husband looked me square in the face and said, “You have become everything you said you will never be.”

That broke my heart. So of course I went to bed to cry my heart out. And then I googled, “why am I alternating between extreme sadness and anger?”

And right there, at the top of the results, was a blogpost of a nurse telling her story of how all her symptoms and signs of postpartum depression had escaped her caregivers and even herself. And all the things she said she experienced, I realized I was experiencing.

I showed the post to my husband, and ever the kind, thoughtful husband, he took me to see a doctor. It took nine months of suffering, and a provoking sentence from my husband for me to do the necessary digging to find redemption. But finally I got a diagnosis; postpartum depression.

And thus began my months-long journey of postpartum depression therapy. And since then, I have learned a ton, which I try to share to educate other women. Because it is a hard place to be, to have a human depending on you, and not have the mental and emotional capacity to be fully and adequately equipped to nurture them.

So here are some early signs that you may have postpartum depression:

Your ‘baby blues’ do not get better, it gets worse. Baby blues, or a dip in your mood within the first two weeks postpartum is fine. After that it should get better, you should feel better; if you don’t feel better and/or the baby blues get intense, you may be experiencing symptoms of postpartum depression. Look out for unexplained sadness or feelings of hopelessness.
You are consumed by guilt. It is okay as a new mom to be tired and upset every now and again. But if the feeling never leaves you, you are often unhappy about being a parent, you are feeling emotional all the time about giving birth, you have frequent unexplained crying spells, you may be having signs of postpartum depression.
The things you used to enjoy don’t interest you anymore. This one hit me hard! I used to love comedy shows, because laughter is my thing, but I lost complete interest when I was in the throes of mental illness. I lost interest in intimacy with the love of my life. I lost interest in my favorite banku and okro stew. So yes, if the things you loved do not interest you anymore, it could be an early sign of postpartum depression.
You have trouble making decisions and running day to day life. When you find yourself not caring about things like diaper changes, feeding your baby, taking a bath and doing other things that should come naturally, talk to a professional or find yourself a postpartum support center and check in.
When you have thoughts about harming yourself or your baby. This one needs no further explanation.

I hope my story helps someone. Please take time to educate yourself about postpartum depression symptoms if you are a pregnant woman, a father to be or just a friend of a new mom. You could save her life.

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Adwoa Danso

I am a connoisseur of life stories, and writing is my first love. I believe we can empower, educate and uplift by telling our stories. Writing is my happy place.

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