Courtney on Covid, colic, and the postpartum depression and anxiety they caused

September 28, 2020

Content warning: Discussion of postpartum depression, birth trauma, domestic abuse or other tough topics ahead. If you or someone you know is struggling with a postpartum mental health challenge, including postpartum depression or anxiety, call 1-833-9-HELP4MOMS (tel:18009435746)—The National Maternal Mental Health Hotline This free, confidential service provides access to trained counselors and resources 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in English, Spanish, and more than 60 other languages. They can offer support and information related to before, during, and after pregnancy.

My daughter was born about two weeks before my state went into lockdown earlier this year. I had been dealing with the baby blues for those first couple weeks, but I thought things were on the upswing.

And then COVID-19 locked the state down, our daughter developed intense colic and silent reflux, and suddenly my husband and I could no longer rely on the huge village of family and friends that we thought we would have.

It got to the point where if our daughter wasn’t sleeping or eating, she was screaming. Sometimes walking worked. Sometimes rocking in a dark room worked. Sometimes bouncing and swaying and swinging worked, and sometimes none of it worked.

I was getting to the point where her cries would shut me down mentally and emotionally. I felt numb, stretched thin, and wondered what I was doing wrong to have a baby who was so unhappy with me. My husband frequently got up with me on my nights to cover overnight feedings and would sleep on the daybed in our daughter’s nursery while I fed her and rocked her back to sleep, because I felt that if she became inconsolable that I wouldn’t be able to cope.

I felt that I was failing to adapt to my new role as a mom, that I wasn’t cut out for this, that I had made a terrible mistake. Our daughter developed thrush, which is extremely common, but I blamed myself because shouldn’t I have noticed that what I thought was formula residue on her tongue wasn’t going away? Now she was uncomfortable eating and it was my fault.

I blamed myself yet again when we figured out that she had silent reflux, because what kind of mother doesn’t recognize that her baby is in pain for several weeks?

The pandemic and lockdown wove its way through every part of this—I felt trapped and isolated in my home with an extremely uncomfortable and unhappy baby, and we could no longer rely on family and friends for help because we weren’t supposed to leave our house or have anyone over. I remember frantically googling remedies and tips for colic and dissolving into tears, because the last bit of advice is always, “Call for help when you need a break!”

I desperately needed that break, but I couldn’t call anyone. My husband and I had to tough it out alone.

I remember vividly the day I knew that something was wrong. I was starting a load of laundry while our baby slept and my husband was working from home at his desk near our laundry room. I heard our daughter start to wake up and cry and I leaned against the washer and began to sob.

My husband asked what was wrong and I choked out that I couldn’t do this, that I was failing at being a mom. He was going to use some personal time off from work to help me and was frustrated that he had meetings he couldn’t get out of and couldn’t stop working until the afternoon, but I misinterpreted that frustration as him being upset with me that I couldn’t cope as a mom, and that I was now a burden to him. I had never, ever thought that about our relationship before.

I immediately called my OB’s office and they were able to coordinate with my general practitioner to get me telehealth appointments and get me on an antidepressant. I now meet with my therapist via video call weekly, and I know that I am extremely lucky to have those resources available to me, especially during a pandemic and when my state was locked down.

I didn’t think I had a postpartum mood disorder because I didn’t see the same things that I associated with postpartum depression—I never wanted to hurt myself or my daughter, for instance. But looking back now, I can see that I was deep in a depressive state for weeks, that I was experiencing anxiety and panic attacks, and my therapist believes I may have PTSD from how intense my daughter’s colic was and how my husband and I had to ride that time out by ourselves, without any kind of help or any form of a break.

I am much better now, and my daughter’s colic has disappeared. She is on medication for reflux and tummy-sensitive formula, and she is a completely different baby than those earlier days. She laughs and explores and plays and is insatiably curious. Every developmental milestone she hits helps improve her disposition. I absolutely adore being her mom.

I still take my antidepressant, and likely will for a while, since I have a history of mood disorders and have lived most of my life with general anxiety. I still see my therapist weekly over a video call.

My antidepressant and therapy makes me a more present mom, a happier mom, a better mom. I’m passionate about raising awareness for postpartum mental health because I know how incredibly lucky I was to have a team of physicians and my therapist who heard my concerns and got me the help I needed, while many, many women are not that lucky and slip through the cracks. Postpartum mood disorders are a beast. Getting the help you need shouldn’t have to be either.