FINDING A POSTPARTUM lifeline IN AN UNLIKELY PLACE

It was a dreary, late January day when I found myself hugging a crying stranger in the parking lot of a vegan restaurant.

- BRITTANY CHRUSCIEL

I’d never been there before, but it was across the street from my OBGYN, where I had just left from my six-week postpartum follow-up visit. Tired and disoriented, my doctor confirmed what I already knew to be true — that I was struggling with postpartum depression (PPD) and anxiety. But as I sat staring blankly ahead, alone for the first time since having my daughter, I noticed a woman sobbing in the car parked next to me.

Suddenly I felt compelled to check on her. I tapped on her window, and she lowered it. She told me that her father was dying, and she was about to make the drive out to say goodbye. I told her that I was a new mom in a dark place. She shared that she also had PPD after the birth of her children and told me about a woman named Lisa Tremayne, who ran a center for women like us. Coincidentally, it was the same information my doctor had just given me: The Center for Perinatal Mood and Anxiety Disorders (PMAD). The stranger asked if she could give me a hug, and as she did, snow began to fall around us.

I have described PPD as feeling like the rug had been pulled out from under me. I felt ready to have my baby, felt bonded with her when she was born, and she latched right away — a source of anxiety for mothers hoping to breastfeed. Despite being warned that I was at a higher risk due to previous anxiety and depression, I was in the clear. No anxiety or depression here! After all, she was born the week before Christmas, such a magical time of year.

But it was a few weeks later when breastfeeding, sleep and sanity, began to fall apart, that I started to feel manic. I dictated rambling, nonsensical thoughts to my phone because I was afraid I would never form another memory. I would stand in the shower and not remember if I washed myself. At its worst, I had paranoid delusions and hallucinations. Everyone was judging me for being a bad mother. My baby was somehow in harm’s way.