HuffPost Canada closed in 2021 and this site is maintained as an online archive. If you have questions or concerns, please check our FAQ or contact support@huffpost.com.

coping with postpartum depression

But it's slightly less accepted than that midday glass of chardonnay.
Because being a mom has its own set of challenges.
#relationshipgoals
When a friend says postpartum depression is normal, I get disappointed. When a psychologist says postpartum depression is normal, I get worried. When a New York Times best selling author and former U.S. congressional candidate with hundreds of thousands of followers says that postpartum depression is normal, I get livid.
By the time I became pregnant for a second time in 2013, I felt at my best, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically. I took hypnobirthing classes and had a picture perfect natural birth. My baby was sleeping through the night from day one and so was I. There's no way PPD would ever find me now. I was wrong.
I just wanted to stay home in my pjs and watch Netflix, which I did on many occasions. So inevitably, I was fired last Monday. And I don't care. In fact, I don't seem to give a shit about anything these days. And that's concerning.
I spent so many moments in the bedroom or bathroom, door closed, silently sobbing into tissues or a pillow. Pretending to be happy around my friends and family felt necessary and yet impossible. It was torture.
I cried for hours, not only because I was unable to master motherhood with a smile, but also because my Postpartum Depression was not only aggravated by the lie I had believed about perfect parenting, but also perpetuated.
If you should experience any or all of the scenarios I have described, please don't wait to seek help quickly. What I did not know is that this is PPD, and I was not alone. What I also didn't know is that there are people who will not judge you, and who are trained at helping to heal you. Please always remember this.
At the worst points during my postpartum depression (PPD) I thought about killing myself every single day. I planned my funeral in detail. Strangely, going back to work is a huge part of what pulled me through. Somehow, I could hold it together extremely well in front of my colleagues.
I'm OK! HAPPY! I'm higher than god. In fact, I am god. A human came out of my body. How would I ever feel bad? The problems began a month or so into being a mom. It wasn't anything specific -- it never is -- but I was starting to get that antsy feeling that I was doing this whole thing badly.
You may very well be aware of your postpartum depression and feel guilty about it, but you can't see the way to get out. And the deeper you get into it, the harder it gets to maintain the happy face. And if you're similar to me, you end up doing harmful things to change the way you feel.