About me

I have PTSD FROM MY EARLY POSTPARTUM JOURNEY

This picture brings back many memories. It was a beautiful sunny day-you can see my window was open because it was warm and I could see several people (primarily couples withOUT kids) out for a walk. Many had ice cream cones in hand after stopping at the ice cream truck who’s catchy song was fading into the distance as it drove away. My soft smile was from the prompt that my husband gave me but all I was thinking was how badly I wanted to run down into the street and hail a cab to get the F*CK OUT of my apartment and start a new life. One WITHOUT the baby that was changing every. f*cking. thing.

(Cue sigh.) But I didn’t. My husband gave my phone back to me and laid down on the couch to disassociate from us because (guess what?!) he was struggling with his new role as a parent as well! He didn’t know how to communicate his lack of connection with our son and I didn’t know how to ask him what HE was feeling because I was fully consumed and drowning in my own despair. Surprise, surprise - NO ONE PREPARED ME FOR THIS SHIT.

Thinking back to my first few months, (essentially the 4th trimester) I was fucking miserable. Not just because I was in desperate need of uninterrupted sleep, or because my taint was throbbing and stitched up due to a vaginal birth, or because my nipples were bruised and excruciatingly tender from me turning into a god damn dairy cow and pumping breast milk out of them 10x a day for 30 minute sessions. Oh, and f*cking guess what?! The few times I had breastfed, my baby’s latch was SO improper and SO STRONG that it traumatized my nipple and half off it broke off.

Once again, no prep was given and now I was a 1.5 nippled woman.

I was devastated.

I felt like I had been tricked into becoming a mother. All the ‘OMG you’re going to love it!’ and ‘Having a baby is such a blessing!’ comments all swirled down the drain as MY true feelings floated to the surface.

“I don’t love being a mom. I don’t feel love for my baby. I don’t feel closer to my husband. I need my old life back.”

What made this new identity of ‘mother’ even worse was that if I hadn’t gotten pregnant in the first place I’d be WINNING at my life as a childless person. I was OBSESSED with my job as a personal trainer/dance/fitness instructor. My body was bangin’, my free time was filled with great friends, good drinks, smoking tasty cigars and taking a shit without anyone else needing to be with me. What more could a person ask for?

I began asking myself how could I be so heartbroken about this new phase of life when everyone told me it was going to be ‘so wonderful’? What was wrong with me? Family and friends were reaching out to me via text all the time, but the problem was that ‘How’s the baby?’ was the overwhelming question asked-NOT ‘How is the new mom?’

This is an issue that America is phenomenal at overlooking. There are multitudes of information directing us on how to get pregnant, and what to do while pregnant, but nothing following the birth! We just find ourselves at home with a new, fragile human (who is a complete f*cking stranger by the way) and we (a brand new version of ourselves) are supposed to continue on with life and inherently know what to do.

Bullshit, bro.

Headlines like ‘New Mom’s Can Really Do It All’ and ‘Dad’s That Babysit Their Kids’ are detrimental to all. New (or seasoned) birthing people CAN’T truly do it all because help IS needed. And necessary. And dad’s/partner’s who didn’t give birth don’t f*cking BABYSIT their own goddamn kids. They parent their child(ren) because a well balanced co-parenting system is essential to stay connected & intimate with your partner.

The postpartum depression and newborn shitstorm that my husband and I experienced is my loss and your gain. We needed open communication with zero judgement, a community that had the parents’ best interest in mind and someone to mother us. Mother me. I was just as fragile, if not more, than my baby.

So damnit, for you and your partner’s sake, let me f*cking help.