I was a mom to a two-and-a-half-year-old daughter when my fiancé and I got the news we were expecting twins. We were thrilled that we would be welcoming two baby boys into our home. My first pregnancy had been mostly easy, aside from being plagued by all-day “morning” sickness. And my pregnancy with my twins was much of the same, until about 18 weeks in. In an unwelcome plot twist, we found out then that one of the boys was not growing as quickly as his brother. A couple of weeks later, I was admitted to the hospital on bed rest, an hour away from home, until their delivery.
The evening my boys were delivered was far from what I had pictured.
Finding out you’re expecting a child is normally one of the most joyous occasions in life. For most women, images of a beautiful delivery and perfectly decorated nurseries immediately spring to mind. But what happens when that dream is suddenly shattered?
The evening my boys were delivered was far from what I had pictured. I was only 31 weeks; it wasn’t supposed to be time yet. Amid chaos, I was rolled to an operating room and my two sweet boys were delivered via C-section. Instead of getting to hold them and bond with them, I was only able to catch a quick glimpse as they were wrapped up and whisked off to the NICU. Although we’d had a tour of the NICU and spoken to the neonatologist before delivery, nothing could prepare me for the sight of my precious babies hooked up to monitors with oxygen masks covering their tiny faces. Nothing prepared me for the constant beeping of the monitors or the alarms going off. Through the uncertainty, I remember being so thankful that they were receiving such excellent care, but also so angry that this was our birth experience. I was frustrated and bitter that we were robbed of that “perfect” pregnancy and birth story.
Enter the fourth trimester. The one that no one talks about. The one where you are struggling with your changed body and hormones while also trying to care for a newborn. Now imagine doing this, but you’re caring for two babies, in a hospital. You don’t get to take them home and snuggle them or dress them in cute matching outfits. You’re not in the comfort of your own home when you wake up for middle-of-the-night feedings. You’re experiencing your first days with your new babies in a sterile environment, surrounded by strangers.
I pushed down a lot of my feelings and faked a smile for fear of seeming weak or like I couldn’t handle this journey.
My fiancé had to go back to work a couple of days after the babies were delivered. I was alone. My parents lived two hours away, and I had no one to navigate this with me. I was angry most of the time. I started to feel sad and anxious. I was in the hospital day and night and rarely had visitors. Weeks later, I still didn’t feel like myself. I was going through the motions, but there was no real happiness to be found. I was a shell of my former self. I was either crying or full of rage. No one had ever talked to me about postpartum depression (PPD). I had no idea what I was experiencing. I thought that I was suffering from the normal hormonal shift a woman goes through after having a baby. Looking back, all the signs of PPD were there: I was tired all the time, but I wasn’t sleeping; I had constantly fluctuating emotions, including anxiety and depression. It was all there. I pushed down a lot of my feelings and faked a smile for fear of seeming weak or like I couldn’t handle this journey.
About a week after one of the twins was officially discharged, I finally snapped. My fiancé had come down for the weekend to spend time with the babies and we had a huge fight. I morphed into a completely different person. I screamed and yelled and cried and raged at him where all the NICU could hear. Finally, the nurses came in and very gently told me I needed to go home and take a break. I had spent too much time in the hospital, and it was really affecting my sanity. I knew they were right, but the thought of leaving one of my babies there was heartbreaking. Ultimately, I took their advice. I began commuting a couple of times a week from home to the hospital and only stayed on the weekends. Honestly, I can’t say that it helped. If anything, I felt even more guilty every time I had to leave one of my babies behind at the hospital. Two months later, we were finally able to bring the second baby home, but the damage to myself and my relationship was already done.
Despite all of the signs, I never sought treatment and tried to do it alone. I wish more than anything I had made a different decision.
This was eight years ago, but the memory still stings. Why am I talking about this now, all these years later? I’m hoping to help someone avoid making the same mistakes that I made by sharing what I learned:
- A support system is extremely important.
- If you find that you still don’t feel like yourself weeks after delivery, say something. It isn’t silly and it isn’t weak.
- Talk to someone, whether it’s a professional counselor, family member, or friend.
- Don’t try to do it alone. Chances are the hospital has resources, so use them! Women are afraid to ask for help for fear of being shamed. I’m here to tell you there is no shame in asking for help. I wish I had.
I have never completely returned to the person I was before my twin pregnancy. I still suffer from symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and depression. Despite all of the signs, I never sought treatment and tried to do it alone. I wish more than anything I had made a different decision.
After doing some extensive research, I now know that having a child in the NICU increases a mother’s chance of developing PPD or PTSD. I wish I had known this then, because I would have been more aware of my symptoms and had a better idea of what I was actually dealing with. I would have gone to counseling or spoken more seriously about it with my doctor. The most efficient way to combat both conditions is to seek help and treatment early. The sooner you have the right tools, the sooner you can move into being the happy and whole mom you are meant to be.
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