My youngest turned one a week ago. With the celebration of his incredible life, I looked back over the past year and although it was filled with joys far surpassing my dreams, it was also tainted with a dark, and heavy fog – Postpartum Depression.
For over nine months, I struggled.
Every day was difficult. Every morning I woke up feeling as if my tank was already empty. Every day I wondered “how am I going to get through today?”. Every day I battled sadness, anger, loneliness, rage. Every day was simply HARD.
My experience with PPD was greatly impacted by the traumatic delivery of my son, during which I lost over half the blood in my body in a severe postpartum hemorrhage. I was informed by my doctor that I was at a higher risk for both postpartum depression and postpartum anxiety due to the delivery, but I naively thought neither would actually impact me. The mental and physical recovery from a traumatic experience was not something I was prepared for and thus walked down a very lonely and long road.
Continue reading “Postpartum Depression vs Demonic Intervention”
A Woman Standing 