Guest Blog: Down Will Come Mama: Work & Postpartum Depression

Welcome to the Tuesday guest blog. Every Tuesday, "On Balance" features the views of a guest writer. It could be your neighbor, your boss, your most loved or hated poster from the blog, or you! Send me your entry (300 words or fewer) for consideration. Obviously, the topic should be something related to balancing your life.

Down Will Come Mama: Work and Postpartum Depression

Rebecca Kaminsky writes the column Down Will Come Baby for the online magazine Literary Mama, where she is also the Literary Reviews Editor. Her work has appeared in Literary Mama: Reading for the Maternally Inclined, as well as the anthology Wednesday Writers: Ten Years of Writing Women's Lives. She lives in Berkeley, Calif., with her husband and two sons.

At 29, one month into new motherhood, I went out with my husband and son for our first dinner at a restaurant. On the way out to the car, I slipped on the sidewalk and dropped my son onto the pavement, fracturing his skull. My son fully recovered. I still can't say that about myself.

Barely into motherhood, I felt I had already failed. My working life was spotty before baby--a couple years as a teaching assistant in Media Studies at Hunter College, a couple years teaching preschool full-time. I loved academia but wasn't really sure what path I wanted my career to take. After my son was born, that uncertainty magnified.

I was one of the 10 to 15 percent of new mothers who experience postpartum depression (PPD). Venturing outside a four-block radius of our tiny apartment in Berkeley produced a fireball of anxiety inside my chest that could be cooled only by avoiding the subject of work entirely.

Not exactly a recipe for the perfect balance of happy motherhood and beginning a career.

I had deeply conflicted feelings about my baby, one of the hallmarks of PPD. I loved and resented my son with equal intensity. When he cried, I fantasized about what it would be like if I'd never had him. Would I be writing? Teaching? Finishing up my doctorate? Then, I'd look at my sweet boy. How could I be so selfish, so disgusting? I had already failed him once--and now I was fantasizing about life without him?

Mothers with PPD cope with their conflicting feelings in many ways. I overcompensated by never leaving my son, even for a second. I couldn't fathom anyone else taking care of him. I imagined his little heart breaking if he were left alone with a sitter, or even my husband, sidestepping the notion that perhaps it was my heart that was in danger. I stayed with him in our apartment for days, unable to function other than to meet his most basic needs. I didn't deserve to take him out and have fun, much less the luxury of exploring career options for myself.

I certainly didn't deserve treatment. This was my fault. I blamed myself for not being a happier, more confident mother. For not knowing what I wanted out of motherhood and out of life.

When my son started preschool, I was forced to separate a bit. I began to see that he was okay without me. In fact, he had grown into a well-adjusted, happy toddler. And I had some time to look at my life.

My husband was strained from helping me, caring for our son and working full time. I was miserable and needed help. I managed to seek (and fortunately could afford) therapy and medication. The medication mediated my pain and anxiety. Therapy gave me the perspective to see that my guilt about the accident was preventing me from sharing my child and myself with the world, from enjoying outings with him and connecting with others and from finding my own way to combine work and motherhood.

Eventually, I started writing and connected with a mothers' writing group in Berkeley. In the fall of 2003, the group founded the online magazine Literary Mama as a way to showcase writing by and for mothers. Since then we have grown to become a nationally recognized online magazine.

I rediscovered a love for writing and, while doing so, fell in love with my son all over again, this time without depression. I found a balance between time at home and time away that works for me and my family.

I'd love to hear from other mothers who have or are now suffering from PPD. How has your illness affected your decisions concerning whether or when to go back to work? Did having PPD change the way you felt about staying at home or going back to work? Did your access to treatment (or lack thereof) directly affect your ability to support your family?

By Leslie Morgan Steiner |  June 20, 2006; 7:00 AM ET  | Category:  Guest Blogs
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