Finding Light {My Battle Part 2}

It was towards the end of March that I finally decided to reach out for help.  My husband had asked me on numerous occasions if I wanted him to call my mom and seek out a doctor.  I turned him down each time, believing that I would get better if I just gave it more time.

I had tried exercising more frequently, changing my daily routine a dozen times, eliminating distracting activities...the list went on and on.  And while each of these solutions were good and should have helped, they didn't.  I realized that it was my body's hormones and not my external factors that needed a revamp.

But there were so many days that I wished I didn't even exist...for no tangible, logical reason.  My life was perfect, but I felt in the depths of despair.  Even the warm spring and the sunshine outside, which usually served to bolster me and fuel my joy, only made me feel like crawling up in a corner to cry.  The worst part of the depression seemed to hit me in the mornings.  Every morning the weight of the day would hit me like a ton of bricks the second I opened my eyes.  Sleep was my only escape from the terrible feelings of guilt, sadness, and despair.

In the last week of March I finally accepted my sweetheart's suggestions.  He called my mom because I was too sad to admit that I was depressed.  She immediately reached out and called me.  She found a doctor and I set up an appointment.  This was the turning point for me.  She prescribed a serotonin re-uptake inhibitor and I began faithfully taking the medicine.  It took a few weeks to fully kick-in, so to speak, but I found myself experiencing fewer and fewer bad days as time went on.

I continued to practice life-enhancing habits and did my best to eat and drink right.  I began taking afternoon naps with my little ones and found my days gradually normalizing.  I remember in April there was a day that I finally felt like my normal self.  At first these days were sporadic and unpredictable, but eventually they became the majority.

In May I noticed progress.  I noted that my afternoons began to be happier, and little by little, the hour got earlier that I would begin feeling happy.  Noon for a few days, then 11:00, then 10:00.  By June--I hit a landmark.  I was finally waking up happy.  I waited a few weeks and started to feel like my normal self again.  I am just now tapering off the medication and it feels so wonderful to be alive.

While the medication was definitely a catalyst in my progress, there was a spiritual power that activated it.  I truly learned how to call on my Heavenly Father moment by moment for grace and strength beyond my own to face the feats before me.  It was revolutionary and it has changed me forever...this calling upon Him for grace.  Early this year I had been contemplating how I could come to know my Savior better.  Truly, this was the answer.

Do I feel embarrassed, saddened, or bitter that this whole experience of postpartum depression happened to me?  No. 

Though it was excruciatingly difficult, I know that the Lord pulled me from the abyss.  As I learned to rely on Him more, and use the resources He put in my path, my burden was lifted.  And now as I gaze out at the sunlight falling on the summer countryside, I am truly happy.  And I know that even though I feel much like my normal self, I will never be exactly the same.  I am different now.  More refined, stronger than I was, and perhaps, a little more like Him.