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This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Bliss Poureetezadi Goytowski, co-host of the "Blind Love" podcast. It has been edited for length and clarity.
Before my daughter Galileo was born in April, I thought a lot about postpartum depression. I have a history of depression, so I knew I was at risk. I'd been on antidepressants after college, but for the past decade I managed my symptoms with therapy, exercise, and other holistic approaches.
I spoke with my husband, Zack, and he educated himself about the signs of postpartum depression. We got a doula, and talked about our concerns with her. I made a plan to have my mom stay with us for the first month, and had friends deliver freezer meals. I created space so I could just focus on my health and my baby.
I also reminded myself that everything might be fine: I didn't want postpartum depression to become a self-fulfilling prophecy, or to convince myself I would definitely have it.
As a family, we were prepared as we could possibly be. And yet, you can never have the perfect plan.
I started struggling almost immediately. My labor was 42 hours, then I was launched straight into taking care of a newborn. I struggled to breastfeed, and the sleep deprivation just built up.
I started to fear the night. I struggled to get up in the mornings. I was crying a lot, and wasn't able to watch anything but comedies — any emotion felt like too much. Worst of all, when I got Galileo out of her bassinet each morning, I knew the smile on my face was fake.
At my six week checkup I filled out a questionnaire about mental health. I could see that I was scoring really low. When my doctor walked in she said, "What's going on?" She was very open and clear that I needed help. What I was feeling was not normal, though it was common, she said. That was really validating, since as a first-time mom I thought maybe how I was feeling was the norm.
That day my doctor wrote me a prescription for an antidepressant that was safe to take while breastfeeding. That was really important to me. She was very insistent that medication would help me, though ultimately going on medication was up to me.
Despite that, I didn't fill the prescription at first. After living without medication for years, going back on felt like a step backward. I tried my usual holistic health approaches, from tea to cold baths to exercise, but nothing worked.
That's when I knew I needed to fill the prescription, for Galileo. My daughter needed me to be present for her. A few weeks later I filled the script.
About two weeks after that, I bent over Galileo's bassinet in the morning and felt a genuine smile on my face. I didn't have to remind myself to smile at her. That's when I knew things were getting better.
It's been a few months, and I'm still on medication. Eventually I would like to wean off, but for now I'm so grateful for the miracle of medicine. It has allowed me to finally enjoy motherhood in the way I always dreamed of.
Galileo says "mama" now, and rolls across the room to things she wants to see. I can't wait to show her holiday traditions. Her laughter is the most precious thing in the world, and she is the love of my life. She gives me purpose in a way I didn't know I needed.
When I was pregnant, I thought motherhood would be a part of who I am, but not everything. Now, I feel like being Mama is my identity. Everything else I do comes from that core — including sharing my story.
Moms need help, but even the most prepared can still be hit by postpartum depression. I want others to know they're not alone, and there is hope for treatment. I'm proof of that.
