On my old blog, I once shared about the black hole of post-partum depression I found myself in nearly three years ago. I don’t want to re-hash everything about my experience today, I just wanted to acknowledge once again that it’s real and real people suffer from it. It comes out of the blue and even if you love your new baby with all your heart and even if he happens to be the cutest little boy to ever grace the planet, you may end up in the black hole. I did.
What I really wanted to share today is how I got out. The broad stroke of it is that God reached down and pulled me out EVEN THOUGH I DIDN’T WANT TO COME OUT. The fine print goes a little something like this. Miller hated nursing and this broke my heart. Even though he was my second and I was supposed to know what to do this time, I can remember struggling even in the hospital to keep him from screaming every time he ate. It was demoralizing. Those early days and weeks are a blur of increasing darkness. One day, when I was at my lowest, a good friend told me to just bring Els over to play with her girls. It had been an awful morning, so I gladly complied. When I got to her house, she met me at the door with a hug and cried along with me. She didn’t try to cheer me up or pull me out just then. She just climbed down the ladder and pulled up the chair beside me and cried with me. I’d love to say that everything was better after this day, but it took a long, long time. I did know from that day forward that I wasn’t alone. That I wasn’t the only person to have ever been in that hole. In slow, careful steps, she began to show me the way out.
This all came to mind as I talked with some ladies this morning about how we need each other. As women, as mothers, as Christians. We Americans want to be so independent and do it ourselves and never let them see us sweat, but it’s just not true. I’m not sure what would have happened to me if not for my friend in Beaufort. I’m glad I don’t have to know.
The heartbreaking reality is that three years later, I remember very little about Miller’s babyhood. He was (and still is) devilishly cute and extremely loving. I would never wish post-partum depression on anyone and I don’t want to go back, but God used the experience to mercifully draw me closer to Himself and give me life-long precious friends. For that, I am forever grateful.
“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” -Psalm 23:4