Joy
pnda
The little losses can still trigger big grief and needing professional help to navigate that is perfectly ok.
My experience of perinatal depression crept up on me quietly. There's one vivid memory that was the trigger for seeking support. I was driving along a highway with my newborn in the back seat, when I started to cry for no reason I could name. An overwhelming feeling of sadness started to rise in my chest. This was my second baby, and I thought I was supposed to have it figured out, but I was yo-yoing between feeling fine and wanting to collapse in a heap, riding an emotional seesaw I desperately wanted to get off.
When asked how I was going, all I could manage was "I'm ok." I’d grown up in a high-achieving, high-functioning household and in a culture where people don’t openly share their challenges and are encouraged to keep struggles private. Admitting I needed help felt like admitting failure.
I finally spoke to my GP, who gently reminded me that struggling doesn't make you silly – it makes you human.
Therapy helped me unravel the outrageous expectations I was putting on myself, unpack my grief, fear, and loss, and it helped me name the impact cultural norms had on my expectations of parenting. It helped me unlearn so much. Seeking help reminded me I was not alone and that with support and time, the power and destructiveness of depression wanes.