September 2005 Archives

We are now ten and a half months postpartum and Finnegan and I are
flourishing in the final splendor of Summer's bounty. Though, we are
happy and healthy today, this was not so a few months ago and only
now do I really feel the courage to speak about it openly.

In March and April Finnegan was teething and became the proud owner
of eight new teeth, but it was a miserable time for him and for me.
At times I felt like I was going crazy. My memory was failing and I
was unable to finish simple tasks. The thought of going to the
grocery store was too overwhelming for me and I stayed home.
I was desperately trying to fit in with the other mothers at
Finnegan's play group, but I was just coming apart at the seams
before every outing.

It was just awful. I would get up early to go to physical therapy
then drive home take a shower and wake Doug for work. Then scurry
around the house to clean and prepare for our Tuesday morning walks
at 11 a.m. around Green Lake. I enjoyed the fresh air, but getting
ready was so stressful. The dogs were barking, it took several trips
to put everything in the car because I couldn't remember anything.
My back was hurting and going up and down all the stairs at our house
was taking its toll. I was constantly screaming at the dogs and
experiencing crying outbursts and I was afraid it was affecting
Finnegan because he was cranky too. He cried all the time due to
teething which really grated on my nerves. The worst part was that I
just wanted to curse all the time, the words were ever ready waiting
to be hurled at the most unsuspecting person or Doug and I just felt
like a terrible person because I wanted to scream and swear all day
long to vent my frustration. By the end of the day, I either had to
go take a nap or drink a glass of wine. It was the only thing that
helped me. Now I know why so many mothers are telling Oprah that
they have a drinking problem.

It was apparent to me that I needed to get back to doing some
photography because I needed to be creative again and to do something
that took me out of the house. However, taking on extra work also
meant meeting new deadlines which is hard to do while taking care of
a baby. The added work also increased my frustration level
everything was piling up on me again. I just couldn't win.

At Finnegan's six-month check-up his pediatrician recommended that I
stop eating dairy and soy to help prevent his eczema flair ups. So,
I went cold turkey, but after losing more than ten pounds and walking
around in baggy clothes, Finnegan still had eczema and I was
constantly hungry. I recently viewed some photos of him that I took
in May and his skin looked terribly painful and raw. Everyday people
asked me what was wrong with his face and I told them he had eczema,
but he's so much better now than he was a few months ago. The
downside is the flair ups have prevented me from taking lots and lots
of pictures of him.

In May, my friend Heather invited me to join her post-partum yoga
class and it ended up being a great stress reliever. It was more fun
to visit with other moms than the actual physical fitness benefit,
but you know...healthy mind-healthy body. On the walk back from
class I was telling Heather how I was feeling and I began to cry, she
asked how often I did this and I told her that it was an everyday
occurrence. She suggested that I see my doctor to get some help with
the adjustment, she could tell that I had post-partum depression. I
didn't want to hear that someone thought that I was depressed, nobody
wants the stigma of that label forced onto them, but maybe she was
right. So, I went to my OB/GYN and it was pretty clear to them that
my hormones were out of sync, I was totally sleep deprived and my
thyroid was not functioning properly. Finally, there was a reason
for my dismay and now I had a plan to get better with some medication
and doctor's supervision.

The first evening that I took my medication I slept for 14 hours, 12
hours the next night and 10 the following evening. I pretty much
average 9 hours a night and a nap during the day and I feel sooooo
much better. I don't feel like the world is coming to an end. In
the Spring I was pretty much convinced that the world was on a
straight path to destruction and I was afraid of everything,
especially terrorists who were going to blow up bridges in Seattle
leaving me without an escape route to get home. I was also terribly
afraid of tsunamis. My fears were increasing about as much as my
hand washing had. I was also obsessive compulsive about hand
washing, 30 or more times a day. My hands were so cracked and raw
that I was afraid of scratching Finnegan's skin with my gnarly fingers.

After one week of my treatment, I had a new outlook on life and felt
happy again. I went for a walk with Doug and it was amazing how blue
the sky was and how green the trees were, but most of all I felt that
I could breathe easily without the feelings of frustration and
anxiety nagging my every waking moment. Sleep deprivation and
hormonal imbalance is a terrible condition to live with, no wonder it
drives some people crazy. I am now convinced that sleep deprivation
is a form of torture.

Fortunately, my days are now calm and easy going as much as it can be
with a baby who wants to walk and explore his new world, but I don't
mind a bit. Every morning I wake up with the optimism that comes
from a good night's sleep and the excited anticipation of what
Finnegan will do next. I am so thankful that someone recognized my
situation and pointed me in the right direction for help and now I am
making a very good post-partum adjustment.