Wouldn't that be nice? I don't remember being given the option. I do remember getting a weird look, being brushed off, handed a script and sent home. I can only imagine (fantasize) what rehab for postpartum depression looks like. A limo arrives at my doorstep and out steps Ryan Gosling. "Hey girl," he says. "We're going to PPD rehab."
I think we do all women a disservice when we don't challenge the "Disneyfication" of our reproductive experience. Pregnancy is glorified as transcendent despite its many dark elements. Birth is similarly idealized. But miscarriages resist beatification; at best, they are an extremely efficient expulsion of expired reproductive material by one's own body.
When a friend says postpartum depression is normal, I get disappointed. When a psychologist says postpartum depression is normal, I get worried. When a New York Times best selling author and former U.S. congressional candidate with hundreds of thousands of followers says that postpartum depression is normal, I get livid.
My husband was holding him and I think I may have almost wanted to hit them. I know I wanted something to happen. I was thinking that if I threw that shoe hard enough maybe it would crack the layer of suffocation I was feeling around me. Maybe it would give me some air, or maybe I'd get in trouble and someone would say "Okay, she's clearly had enough. Let's give her a week off from this motherhood thing."
Three weeks after my third C-section, I decided to take off my bandage and I was truly horrified. I saw a 2nd incision above my previous C-section scar. What on earth was this OBGYN thinking? I was shocked and angry and really felt violated. I was exhausted and excited to meet my baby, and it really didn't occur to me to remind the doctor on call to cut over my previous C-section. You would think this was common practice and that there were notes in my file about my discussions and expectations for this procedure. Was he careless? Was he disrespectful? Was he in a rush? Was it just easier for him to make a new incision?
High atop a mountain, several hours' drive from the nearest tiny village, a young mother named Ganga went into labour. It was just days after the massive April 25 earthquake, and thousands of Nepali families were afraid to go inside their homes for fear the buildings would collapse in an aftershock. Ganga laboured publicly for two full days.
I'm torn because my family always comes first, but I also have these ideas and opportunities and the iron is hot and I'm not getting any younger and this is my time, bitch. I'm riddled with guilt just typing that, because society and my upbringing and all that bullshit has programmed me to believe I'm a mother now, so I'm supposed to sacrifice my own dreams for everyone else's. But I'm determined to try my best to fuck that noise and do it all, even if I don't do any of it perfectly. I'd rather live with failure than regret.
This may sound a bit structured, but it will help family and friends who don't see you that often to understand the event and how your special occasion unfolded. If you are combining written content with photos or a video. Try to keep the number of words to seven hundred (or less). This seems to be the magic number before people start to drift off when reading online.
Just in case you missed the first trillion times I mentioned it: giving birth was really hard. Now I am about to give birth again. This time, to a book. In some ways, giving birth to a book is harder than giving birth to a baby. Everyone loves your human baby because it's an innocent party in all of this. But many will hate your paper baby, because you made it, and you suck.
Getting an epidural is a very individual decision and probably one of the first ones that we, as mothers, feel conflicted about. I wonder if this is due to our actual expectations around our child's birth or if it is how we think we will be perceived if we opt in (or out) of using drugs to manage labour.
I for one would schedule a C-section. Before all you mothers out there gasp and accuse me of being too posh to push, hear me out. My vagina has always been there for me, through thick and thin. Some of the best times of my life have involved my vagina. We have a very close bond. So don't I owe my vagina the decency of avoiding such brazen butchery?
It's no secret that women today are waiting longer to have children. This naturally decreases the opportunity for spontaneous pregnancy, especially for women in their mid- to late-thirties, leaving many couples seeking treatment for infertility. Fortunately, there are viable, safe, and effective natural options to support and boost your fertility.
Recently the medical community has become concerned that many women overestimate their chances of conceiving if they delay childbearing into their late 30s and 40s. To be honest, the way this issue is being dealt with irks me. Should we really be encouraging women to settle down before they are ready, and marry, not for love, but to ensure they have adequate time to procreate?