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In retrospect, my first postpartum depression (PPD) was actually no surprise, and it is all the more sad that it went unrecognized for so long. I blame no one for this, as I tried so hard to maintain the facade that it was almost impossible from the outside to see that something was wrong. The pregnancy went smoothly, but we moved to Switzerland during that time. I experienced very closely, just before the birth, the loss of a baby shortly before the due date and moved in the tension between life and death before and after the birth, thus in complete emotional chaos.
After a few weeks, however, I felt that everything was okay. I was convinced that I had everything under control, that within 6 months I would be “completely myself” again – physically and otherwise – which I had set as a desirable goal. Three months after the birth, my mother had a very serious car accident, was in a coma for a week, and it was unclear if and how she would survive. I then spent a good month in Germany to be with my family and to be able to visit my mother daily in the intensive care unit. During this time, I was still exclusively breastfeeding, and the whole situation was quite taxing on me.
After leaving these difficult years behind me, I am particularly aware of two things:
I know and feel better today than ever before in my life, and I am therefore grateful for everything that has brought me here.
AND
All (expecting) mothers and fathers should have access to support and guidance – an open approach to the topic of mental health around childbirth, prevention, and mindful support are, in my view, the key to sparing more people this suffering.
