So I’m sitting here on the couch while Tarzan is feeding Monkey. What a day it’s been! I have a massive headache due to all of the crying I’ve done today and my husband has been wonderful in taking over as the role of parent for little Monkey for a bit while I ran out to get my medicine and a few other things.
Let me back up and explain what happened…
I read my post to Tarzan and couldn’t get through it without crying a few times. The look on his face was complete shock when I was finished reading everything. He told me that he wanted me to call my OB immediately. I went back and forth with him, “What if this is just part of being a new mom?“, “What if I just wait 2 more weeks until my appointment?“, and “What if it’s nothing?” He told me point blank that if I didn’t call, he would.
Point taken. I picked up the phone and waited to leave a message for the nurse. Of course I didn’t get through the message without crying. How embarrassing, but I’m sure she’s gotten calls like that before. Anyways, maybe an hour passed by and then I got a call back from the nurse.
She asked me what was going on, I told her how I felt, she said she had talked to my doctor, and she wanted to put me on an anti-depressant. She said that this 3-week mark is typically when patients call to say that something isn’t quite right with how they are feeling and she told me that I was a great mom for realizing that and making the call. I’ll admit, she’s never seen me with my son, but it was nice to hear. Really nice.
We talked for probably fifteen minutes. She told me about her experience with postpartum depression and I told her more of what I was feeling. I asked her what I should expect with an anti-depressant because, not going to lie, but I have a fear about taking any kind of “serious” medication. She said that it should take about 4 days to a week for me to notice a change and that change should just be that my “weepy” feelings will be no more, I’ll feel like I can handle the baby & baby situations, etc.
She said that if I ever feel like the postpartum depression is getting worse or if I start having bad or suicidal thoughts, no matter day or night, to call the office and my doctor will call me back immediately. Naturally I’m terrified that I’ll all of a sudden start feeling crazy at night time and I’ve told T. to monitor me carefully. I’m paranoid, but smart I guess. I think it bothers me to have to take an anti-depressant instead of taking care of this depression on my own, but I do know that it’s the smartest decision when there is a little baby involved.
After talking to her about the medication and the postpartum depression support person that they have if I want to talk to her, I asked her about the medication and breastfeeding. That turned into me telling her how awful it was for me and us getting into a conversation about breastfeeding. She shared her story with me and told me that if I’m not happy, the baby isn’t happy. (Same thing many of you have said to me.)
She said that if I was that miserable breastfeeding and pumping that little Monkey would pick up on it too, which would explain so much really. We started talking about the alternative of breastfeeding. I told her that I wanted to quit for a while but that I was so conflicted with it as well. I know that breast is best, but if I’m not happy… is that enough to throw in the towel?
She said that she went through the same thing with her daughter too. She wasn’t happy, but knew it was best. It’s the same thing I struggle with. She said that when she realized that she would be a lot happier giving formula, she wondered to herself why she breastfed miserable for so long.
She said that the anti-depressant “wasn’t recommended for breastfeeding”.
After hearing her story about breastfeeding and then knowing that I need medication for postpartum depression and knowing it’s not good for breastfeeding, I knew what I was going to do. My answer was simple and finally made some sense and became very clear to me.
I made the decision to stop breastfeeding.
Now I hope that I don’t get a lot of flack for making this decision because I truly felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders almost immediately. Of course I was crying on the phone to the nurse, saying my fears about giving up breastfeeding, feeling like a failure to my little boy for giving up 3.5 weeks into it, and just feeling like I’m failing at being a mom.
Those raw, real emotions are right there and you all know that I’ve struggled with breastfeeding. Without sounding selfish, it’s a lot of pressure to be a sole food source. I’m sure there are tons of rewards of this responsibility in the future, but right now it was too much for me. I know that I said that I would give it 6 weeks and obviously that isn’t happening, but I truly feel at peace with my decision.
I know breastfeeding is best and at least I tried. At least I gave my little boy 3.5 weeks of breastmilk. At least I didn’t give up before. And I also know that I do not view formula as poison. He will still be eating. I know that my little boy will continue to thrive on it and grow up to be a healthy, strong boy.
I can’t ignore my feelings anymore and breastfeeding was just one more thing that was adding fuel to the fire, so to speak. There are a lot of changes with being a new mom and I haven’t been completely honest with myself and my feelings until today. I wrote about them and spoke to my husband and a nurse about them. I know that there is something going on inside of me and that is my first priority to fix so that I am a better mom to my little boy.
That’s the most important thing. What sense does it make to have feelings of postpartum depression and feel so low and do something that I dread? That won’t make me feel any better and it certainly won’t make me a happier mom to my little boy and a happier wife to my husband.
I need to fix myself first.
I am 100% okay with my decision to stop breastfeeding. I never thought I would actually decide to stop, but it is what makes the most sense for me and my family. I am honestly at peace with my decision, so I hope that you all don’t judge me for it. And if you do, that’s your problem, not mine.
(Although there is some information out there that says that you can still breastfeed your baby while on the medication and that it “might” be okay, I don’t want to chance it. I talked to Tarzan about it and we both agreed that it’s too much of a risk and too dangerous to even consider continuing to breastfeed while taking an anti-depressant. Plus, I don’t want that extra worry of wondering “what if” about my baby.)
Before I got off the phone with the nurse I asked her about my boobs and what would happen since I’m not going to be breastfeeding anymore. She said that I would need to wear a fitted sports bra 24/7 unless showering. She also said that I could wrap the girls up in an Ace bandage. I guess you just want them to be firm and tight.
She said that when showering I would need to turn my back to the warm water because I don’t want the water hitting my boobs. She also said that I could put ice packs on the boobs to help with inflammation. (This part does not sound nice or pain-free at all.) She said that I would want to take Ibuprofen around the clock to also help with inflammation. She said that things should feel better in about 4-5 days.
Two words popped into my head: Yikes & OUCH. As much as I’m not looking forward to this part of it, I still feel it is best… and that says a lot.
We got off the phone and I headed to Walgreens to pick up my prescription. I asked the pharmacist about breastfeeding and the medicine & he said the same thing as my nurse did: It’s not recommended. (The information pamphlet said the same thing too in all capital letters.)
I also asked the pharmacist about alcohol with the medicine. I don’t want to mess around with an anti-depressant. He said that a drink wouldn’t hurt anything as long as it was drank after a few hours of taking the medicine. Good to know for future.
All in all, it’s been a crazy day. I’m not kidding when I say that a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. It’s nice to know that I have supporters out there that are on my side whether I’m breastfeeding or not. It’s even nicer to know that I’m doing this for my sanity and for my baby. I want him to have a happy and loving mom.
It bothers me that I didn’t make it without having postpartum depression, but I know that I’ll be okay. I got help when I realized it was too much and that speaks volumes. It’s nice to think about how things will be in a week, when the medicine has hopefully kicked in and helped me to see things differently.
I told Tarzan that I just felt blank earlier. It’s true. These past few days I’ve depended on him a lot with Monkey. I didn’t actually put two and two together until tonight though. I didn’t want to feed Monkey or change his diaper. I would conveniently run errands or ask if he minded if I took a bath right around the times that I knew Monkey would be waking up. It was my escape, I guess.
Tarzan said that he realized something was up too. He said that I’ve been acting differently these past few days. I guess it just took a while to put the pieces together.
I’m excited about the next few days and for the medicine to start taking effect. Postpartum depression is no joke and I can’t wait to write about how different I’m feeling… stay tuned for whenever that happens.
And when I left to go to Walgreens, I jokingly told Tarzan and I would definitely come back home. I told him that I was excited to be excited to be a mom and that I knew I was going to be okay. And be the best mom to little Monkey, because really, he deserves nothing less of that.
You might also want to read:
- Being real with therapy, postpartum depression, family, & friends
- Past memory of postpartum depression, breastfeeding Monkey, & my dog
- Six week postpartum appointment and going to a psychiatrist for postpartum depression
- Normal feelings towards motherhood or something more serious like postpartum depression?
- Postpartum depression: Success with being real & worrying about word vomit
Hang in there Jane. You are doing good. The baby will be fine. You look after yourself! Anne from London
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