Rus Articles Journal

My unexpected postnatal depression of

“Marines, wake up, everything ended, you have a boy“, - I heard in the sleep. Interestingly, I dream it or not, but suddenly I felt sharp shortage of air. Tried to clear the throat. It is impossible, something disturbs. I cannot turn. What is with me why it is so bad? Something stuck, it was disconnected. In consciousness the phrase wanders:“ You have a boy“. Again it is bad, and so till the morning.

was carried in the Morning to chamber, me, it seems, it is better, understanding that I gave birth to the son, did not come yet. Passed to me the husband, at once brought to show the baby. The husband cried and laughed, and at me any emotions, some emptiness, and all.

Information extended quickly, in an hour my phone choked with calls of friends and relatives, all congratulated, wished good luck and health. I listened, with all the heart thanked, not up to the end understanding for what.

tried to get out of a bed in the Evening, it turned out not at once, but it turned out. Slept badly, all was ill awfully, could not turn. Next day to me put droppers - nearly 7 hours. In my opinion it was worse, than operation. By the evening I for the first time felt, one may say, well, went along a corridor nearly 2 hours, then descended in children`s office, looked at the kid, but for some reason again felt nothing. Calmed itself what after Caesarian always so, probably, happens. Especially as under the general anesthesia, all - the feeling of the birth per se does not arise.

asked to transfer to

me to chamber from intensive therapy Next day and to give me the child at least per day. Perhaps, it also was my first mistake, rest after operation was required for my organism, and I at once loaded it - I dragged the kid all day long, went with it along a corridor, tried to feed, rock to sleep etc., etc. By the evening I understood that I was exhausted finally, I was hurt by everything that is possible, and the feeling of love to the kid did not come.

the Second mistake was the fact that I was placed in separate chamber. I remained one. Then there were two days of a nightmare, at me milk came. How to feed what to do? I was in panic, I strongly was nervous, the child refused to take a breast, cried, shouted, a little bit slept, and again all at first. I was helped, of course, all showed, told, but nothing was impossible. I - that expected another - that all will be good at once that there will be no problems.

A me were overflowed then by bad emotions - everything, I need nothing, I will not cope, I will not be able and so on, all it is worse and worse. At me appetite was gone, all the time felt sick. At night suddenly shook, pressure, temperature rose and terrible - prezhutky thoughts got - I will refuse the child, I all the same will not be able to bring up it! And how I will sleep at the nights? He, probably, will shout! And so on.


to me doctors began to be flown down in the Morning, I cried, without ceasing, did not pay to anybody attention. Tried to show me the child, I shouted that all left and took away with themselves this being who is not necessary for me. I was left one, having pinned some muck. I long slept.

Having woken up, I mentally understood that it is necessary to be chosen. But also I understood that I cannot make it yet. Long-term conversations by phone with the husband, mother and the father began. Brains I understood that it is a depression not from - for what - I`m fine, my child is healthy, I physically almost as it should be, at me am the loving and beloved husband, mother with the father are live and healthy, with prosperity there are no problems too. But from where - that from within me was gnawed by thoughts - I will not cope with the child, I am not able, I will not be able, same such responsibility! And then I want to change nothing in the tenor of life, I want to sleep at night, I do not want to endow the freedom, I do not want, I do not want, I do not want...

It already. The first the father experienced it, having pointed me to the excessive use of a pronoun “I“. After that I began to be dragged already purposefully that “I“ I left the on the operating table, and now there are only “We“.

Then to me allowed to meet and take a walk with the husband. I gave birth in simple maternity hospital where visits are allowed in strictly allocated place, but met requirements of me. We walked long - nearly 3 hours. All this time I was silent, and he spoke, without ceasing, telling me some news, jokes, gossips, stories, and I thought of the life, remembered the feelings during pregnancy. Then embraced him strongly strongly, sighed deeply - deeply, and I suddenly terribly wanted to embrace the child.

Having returned to chamber, I understood that I am also influenced by hospital walls, I never in 28 years was in hospital. Having sat down on a bed, I still time weighed and began to act.

Ya I will repeat that I gave birth in simple maternity hospital, but according to “the friendly arrangement“, i.e. the chief physician was my very good acquaintance, and I was, say, on criminal conditions, it is possible that very much helped me.

By the evening me was transferred to chamber to girls who already gave rise on the second child. Then, at my persistent request, brought me the kid. I very long and fixedly examined it, considered, patted on a back, embraced, kissed and it seemed to me that he understood who I am. In the following feeding I tried to be persistent and not to be nervous, and everything went off with a bang. For the night I did not give it, having put to sleep near with myself.

A me was released next day on receipt and under a personal responsibility of heads of the doctor to whom I told that hospital walls are guilty of everything and that to me to recover, urgently it is required to leave home. It released me, having taken from me the promise to seem to the psychotherapist.

On the same day to me the psychotherapist or the psychiatrist came, I do not know even plainly who. Told to accept antidepressants as I have a pronounced postnatal psychosis. I, naturally, flatly refused - what there can be antidepressants when breastfeeding the child? Promised that if I am not able to get out independently, surely I will call it and I will accept its antidepressants.

it became much better than

of the House for me, did not shake me any more, and pressure did not rise. But all the same was not as I expected. At the slightest pretext and without I began to cry, I swore on mother who tried to help, on the husband who in general ceased to understand what occurs. I cried, having inclined over the child if at him the heat-spot suddenly jumped out or he began to shout, with thoughts that I am bad mother.

Freight of mad responsibility pressed

on me more and stronger. I tried to cope with myself, but could not. My God, I strong, I yet not coped with such experiences, and I tried to get out. It proceeded weeks three, then hysterics happened less frequently, my mood became better and better, well and came to naught.

Recently I decided to analyse

that, as a matter of fact, and why happened to me as it could be avoided. Perhaps, business was in stimulators which to me pricked to cause fights, or in antibiotics after operation. Or, all - that I was not ready morally to childbirth and to appearance of the kid.

Ya treated pregnancy somehow very simply and easily, without bothering on trifles. From the very beginning soared as though in clouds, without understanding and without realizing all situation. Listening to passions about pregnancy and childbirth, about the first months and years of life of the kid I laughed - it never happens to me, I will have everything not as at you, at me everything will be ideal and good.

Pregnancy really took place

on “hurrah“, perhaps, my very positive and optimistic spirit, well affected or it was just lucky. All 9 months I flew, without feeling any indispositions, well if only slightly - slightly and seldom, dreamed of how I will bring up the little little son, passing by a brain of thought of the forthcoming childbirth. I absolutely did not think of them, more definitely, did not want to think, sometimes just forbade herself to think about them.

In magazines I passed all articles about childbirth as it was sure that nothing good to them is written but only frighten by complications and problems. I also turned a deaf ear to all cock-and-bull stories that life changes when the kid appears, sleepless nights, new problems appear. Generally, protected herself from as it seemed to me, negative information.

I here suddenly everything changed, I stopped being independent and free. I could not afford more a dinner till midnight with friends at the Italian small restaurant in the center, days off in St. Petersburg and or just to roll about the whole day of the house in a bed with the book. This most of all frightened me then, in chamber of intensive therapy. Because, that my life changes completely and irrevocably, and my so-called postnatal depression began. I was not ready to it.

Now to our kid three months, he smiles when he sees me, and still it has the most beautiful eyes on light both very conscious and adult look. He lives at me on hands, it is pleasant to him and to me it is quiet and good. We endured with it a turning point in our life, now we learn to live together. I ceased to speak “I“, now there are only “we“.

my history proves once again, that by the birth of the child all is necessary - though somehow morally to prepare, removing the ambitions on a background and sacrificing the private life. To realize that from the moment of its birth only you are responsible for his small life, only to you to care about it is mute, depends only on you whom will be this little man.

One my friend somehow told

: “With the birth of the child you understand that ended your carefree childhood how many to you was years“. In reply I laughed only. Now I can paraphrase her thought a little: “With the birth of the child my carefree childhood ended, and the childhood of my kid began. More precisely, our new childhood which I will try to make carefree“.