Rebuild from Depression Blog

This week is the 5th anniversary of the birth of my son Frederick. They say that motherhood changes you but I really was naïve about what was in store for me five years and nine months ago when I got that positive pregnancy test.

We worked to get pregnant and then in the pregnancy, my life began to fall apart slowly. It started as extreme fatigue early in the pregnancy. The fatigue lessened about halfway through and my mental health began to decline. By January of 2002, I was unable to function in my work and unable to interact with people even in a casual manner.

In light of my recent obsession with milk and my planned trip to Chicago for the 50th anniversary of the La Leche League, I have been thinking about the kind of milk that doesn't get sold at the corner store.

New moms worry a lot about their baby's health. They wonder if their milk is all it's cut out to be. Maybe they should give a little formula. Maybe some goat's milk. The options that we have today only add to the worry because we wonder if we are making the right choice.

Study after study tells us that our own milk is the best for our baby. Common sense does a pretty good job of telling us that as well. The problem is that when we are caring for our own newborn baby, we do not necessarily go through a rational thought process.

My good friend had a beautiful baby girl about a month ago and has called a number of times genuinely worried about her baby. Her baby is doing very well. But it's my friend's job to worry because she's the baby's mother. That's totally normal. I assured her that baby was fine and we reviewed the resources that she had in case something should go wrong. Days have passed and baby continues to thrive.

Vitamin D and Iron

In about two months my friend will call and wonder if she should give baby a vitamin and mineral supplement.

Researchers tell us that when we suffer from depression, laughter might actually help alleviate our mental state. When I struggled with depression postpartum, one of my doctors recommended that I watch funny movies.

I remember feeling angry. I thought to myself, "if it's so darned easy I expect I would be feeling better right now."

I was right and I was wrong.

There is nothing easy about recovering from depression. This website is about nutrients and depression, but nutrients are one often missing part of a complex picture. Laughter is another.

Everyone struggles to improve their diets and sometimes the task seems so monumental that it is not even worth the effort. But small changes can have an impact. A study of breastfeeding moms from about ten years ago makes that point.

In honor of this week's 50th Anniversary of the La Leche League at their conference in Chicago, I have found an interesting article on Omega-3 fatty acids, trans fats, and the cord blood of newborn babies. Pregnant or not, woman or not, a study of the cord blood of newborn babies is important for our health.

It was just five years ago that a large group of women and I made it into the Guinness Book of World Records. We had some help from our babies. I was one of 1,135 women breastfeeding simultaneously during World Breastfeeding Week in 2002.

It was a huge stretch for me to attend the event and that fact is what probably makes the memory so special. I was still sleep deprived and recovering from Frederick's newborn feeding problems. Some details of the feeding story are chronicled in the book.

I had a report due for work in about a week and decided "The client will not notice if the report is a couple of days late."

I was right about the client and made what I consider to be a great self-centered decision to attend the event planned by the Alameda Public Health Department. It was a four hour drive to Berkeley. My mom and I packed up Frederick and hit the road.

The drive itself is worthy of a story in itself with missed turns, emergency bathroom stops, and my first breastfeeding-in-public experience at what I call a "Cowboy Restaurant."

Women who have been pregnant receive fair warning from obstetricians and midwives that they need to watch their iron intake. Hemoglobin levels get monitored in pregnancy. And though the poking and prodding gets old if you are the pregnant woman, the importance of iron in pregnancy and in nutrition in general cannot be overstated. Most women do not consume nearly enough iron in a day. Add pregnancy to the picture, where her body is required to produce more blood to support the uterine lining and placenta, and iron deficiencies become quite common.

The western diet is in a large part responsible for our low iron status. Foods low in iron such as white flour and potato chips have replaced higher iron whole foods such as whole wheat bread and legumes. Meat consumption has been on the decline as well which would be a good source of iron in an otherwise processed-food diet.

A friend of mine is pregnant with her first child. She's my age - extremely close to forty and many years behind her since she was twenty. I have been thinking about the issues that older professional women face when they have children. I wrote her a letter with some of the thoughts below.

~~~~~

Many of our perceptions of motherhood - what is possible and what is expected - is shaped by women closer to twenty than to forty. Traditionally, after all, women had their children closer to twenty than to forty.

When you see a woman with a baby at a ballgame, I can just about guarantee you that she's closer to twenty than to forty. The women walking their babies around the block three days postpartum are closer to twenty than to forty. The women with four babies under four are closer to twenty than to forty.

How do I know this?

Well, it is just about impossible for women closer to forty than to twenty to do those things.

Should we fight it and try?

Should we be down when we cannot meet those expectations?

No. We should hire a twenty year old to walk the baby around the block.

I am here to say out loud that it is a whole lot different to be forty than to be twenty. For one thing, many women having babies later are in professional, stressful careers. Those careers take some toll on our health. The added decades take a toll on our health as well.

In light of these issues, here is my unsolicited advice to you as you make it through your pregnancy:

I am remembering a line from the movie “Armageddon” where the oil drillers are being shuttled into space to break up the asteroid threatening the Earth. As they belt up and prepare to be launched into space, one driller asks the other

“How are you feeling?”

“95% excitement and 5% fear. Or is it 95% fear and 5% excitement? I don’t know and that’s part of what makes it so exciting!”

I don’t know if I am feeling more fear or excitement, but it’s definitely a combination of the two.

It looks like we may well be having a baby in December.

When I shared our news with my dad (“I’m having a baby, Dad.”), he said, “Oh really? What kind of baby?”

“I am hoping for a humanoid baby.”

The conversation meandered in a strange sort of way and I finally said,

“Dad, I’m pregnant.”

The look of shock on his face was priceless.

When your only pregnancy resulted in psychosis, when that child reaches grade school, and when you are pressing the boundaries of human fertility, this sort of news can catch people off guard.

We are a baby-deficient family, however, with only two children now on my mom’s side, one of which was born just two weeks ago. My husband’s parents have a total of three grandchildren. My own parents have one grandchild and no others in sight until now. They share the 95% excitement.

Estate planning

I just couldn't resist, sitting here responding comments on my big announcement post, drinking seltzer and thinking about ice cream: On May 21 Baskin Robbins is giving away soft serve ice cream to pregnant women so I hear from Slashfood. They are calling it "Bump Day," a play on the phrase "Hump Day." It is a Wednesday after all and I assume you need to show your "bump" to qualify.

But before you run out for the free treat, soft serve ice cream is actually on the list of foods to avoid when you are pregnant which makes this campaign seem a bit nutty. The soft serve machines aren't always squeaky clean and apparently there is some chance of getting zapped by listeria. Perhaps this is just one of the many pregnancy myths and the Baskin Robbins machines will be squeaky-clean next week. Perhaps Barf Blog or some food safety watchdog will let us know if we should just put out a couple bucks for the scoops of ice cream instead or make our own. It would sure be ashame to risk listeriosis over soft serve ice cream, but that may be because I am a scoop gal.

Diane posted days ago asking for an update and, finally, I’ll pop out my head to say that I’m still here and actually doing fairly well. I work two to three hours each day on my data business. On occasion I work zero hours on data. The rest of the day I work on yard work, lie in a hammock, or watch the latest from Netflix. Most days in my pregnant state I do wonder how the human race has ever perpetuated itself.

My mental state is pretty good but I expect that is in large part due to my schedule. On the one time each month that I venture from my place here in the Sequoia National Forest to civilization, I do get a bit frazzled and overly tired. My solution: don’t go.

After months of “not going,” I have had a bit of cabin fever, a strange thing to have in the summer. I’ve been complaining over the last week about being a shut-in. I suppose we should all be careful what we wish for. We are actually packing the car now (I’m on a break) to find fresher air in the Los Angeles basin. That is a sentence that I would have never thought I would ever form, but here we are.

I’ve mentioned that forest fire is our biggest natural threat here and that the local rangers tell us “It’s not a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when.’” We a due west of the Clover fire burning in the Golden Trout Wilderness and further east to highway 395. Weather patterns are bringing us quite a bit of smoke and socking it in. The Clover fire is no threat to us now and it is unlikely it will become one. However, we did have some excitement early yesterday morning when a grass fire started about three miles away on Forest Service land. We could see the smoke plumes and the air got much worse. We had our evacuation list ready but luckily did not need to pack the cars. The fire was within a mile of a ranger station and half of the local population (all employed by the Forest Service) descended on the fire within minutes. The fire lasted for about three hours before it was put out completely. It did add a good bit of smoke to our smoky air.

My weather-watching uncle called us this morning and offered us refuge from the smoke. He says it may clear by Saturday and we considered waiting it out, but my lungs hurt a bit, my son has sudden allergy symptoms, and my husband has a mild case of asthma. I figure we can cure a few symptoms and cabin fever at the same time. My uncle and aunt live north of San Diego and should have great air tomorrow. Today we’ll seek refuge in the Los Angeles area. I hear they have places called "restaurants" and "stores." I'll have to check those out.

The way I figure it is that God made babies extremely cute so that the human race might actually perpetuate itself. I'm somewhere in week 20-something or other here, laying only on my poor injured left side, tired basically all the time, and up twice a night for tasks that shouldn't be necessary. I tried a t-shirt on yesterday with a pregnancy pillow so that I could see if the t-shirt would still fit in three or four months and decided that the last thing I would be worrying about in three months is whether the t-shirt fits.

This reminds me of a winter I spent in Michigan where I had the terrible realization in January that winter was half over at best. Here in California it is half over too in January, but we have about a month left at that point. "It's half over and I still have three more months?" I said to myself about the Michigan winter. I said something similar to myself just recently. I am somewhat torn, however, because there are some work projects I want to complete before this baby is using his or her own lungs instead of mine. I suppose I should make this book available too at some point before these children are in college.

In the meantime, I thought I'd post a bit about how I am surviving. First, a caveat: many days I am not entirely sure that I am surviving, so take this advice for what it's worth. I have done much better than in my previous pregnancy. I have been able to work in the yard fairly consistently, though I do need to rest much more than ever. I have not had a down cycle, though I am sure my family would report that I've had my moments.

A big part of our survival is "This List." It has provided a perspective for us here. It is most certainly centered around me but I make no apologies for it. No one in the household seems to dispute the list since they know how bad things can get. The list comes from a note to pregnant women closer to forty than twenty. My husband agreed to it well over a year ago:

Future Baby Agreement

1) If I say I need something, the correct response is:

"I will figure out how to make that happen."

The incorrect responses are

"Are you sure?" or

"How much will that cost?"

2) Do not expect me to earn more than $XX a month (5-8 hours of work each week). I cannot be a money machine and a baby machine at the same time. If other money needs to be made, someone else needs to do it. And if my demands from item #1 on the list exceed my own earning power, that should not be my problem.

3) If we need more funds to pay for #1 on the list, reducing retirement savings is far better than me going bananas. Retirement is still decades away. The mental institution is just a few miles away.

4) If it becomes unreasonable for me to earn even $XX a month, then revert to #1 on the list.

5) Should I earn more than $XX a month, the excess will pay for additional household staff at my discretion.

6) I will not require us to move to a deserted island during my pregnancy so that you can harvest wild seafood for my dinner while I bask in the sun. Though it is my pregnancy fantasy, I won't make it a requirement under Item #1. It would, however, make a handsome holiday gift.

Of course, the list revolves around item #1 and I have only needed to use it once so far. I lost a pretty big contract and said that we could not replace it. The work that we could replace it with would not be good for me right now. We agreed fairly easily. It is a lot easier to live on a budget than to live with depression.

Some other rules of thumb for survival after the jump:

Consider this an "update post" and the title of the post "the best question I was asked" this week. It's been a bad couple of weeks around here and it has ended quite well.

With continued fatigue from the wedding (and I suppose from growing a baby), I broke one of my rules about how to stay out of the pit and I got involved in a political issue. Symptoms that have plagued me this summer got bad enough that we all got a little bit panicked. My fatigue was terrible, I had a lot of uterine pain, possible contractions, headaches, edema, tingly hands and feet, and high blood pressure. I had most of the symptoms associated with preeclampsia, a pregnancy condition that can result in premie babies (and really much worse). I moved my midwife appointment up ten days to get some wisdom. We scheduled it for an afternoon last week when we would be in civilization anyway to see a dermatologist.
(Nitty gritty continued...)

Technorati Tags: basal cell, depression, melanoma, preeclampsia, pregnancy

All's well. I'm just about 33 weeks now and trying desperately to prioritize my life in these final days.

Baby appears healthy. The ultrasound showed no markers of anything bad that I am aware of. I did ask the ultrasound tech not to tell me if she found only one marker of Downs or some other problem. I wouldn't have agreed to an amnio with one marker and I just didn't need the stress. Of course, when she told me of no markers, I wanted to ask if there really were no markers and sucked it up instead. She did not appear to spend extra time on anything, so I told myself there were probably no markers. (And here I am obsessing over markers which is exactly why I asked not to know.)

Baby is active. With Frederick my placenta was anterior and I didn't feel a lot of movement. This baby's placenta is posterior, on the back side of my uterus. I feel like my childhood cat named "Mother Kitty." When she was in late term pregnancy, the kittens appeared to wake up together (likely one woke up the others) and would begin to kick. Poor Mother Kitty would lay on her side tolerating a few dozen kicks around her middle. I've got a bit of a show going on here myself.

Baby is likely vertex and posterior. Frederick was breech and came out the hard way. Whomever out there gets elective c-sections must be a little bit crazy. Weeks of recovering cannot be worth avoiding the hours of labor. I may or may not find out. At the last prenatal appointment, the midwife began some if-then discussion about "if baby is breech, we'll schedule a section around this date, if not we'll schedule around that date." I cut her off and said I would just like to wait and see what we've got in December. Too many "if-thens" are bad for my brain. I'll worry about too many "ifs." My case is complicated by the prior c-section and my lack of any history of vaginal birth. We cannot plan a vaginal birth, but depending on the circumstances of my arrival at the hospital, it could go any way at all. My mom's labors lasted two to three hours and we are 90 minutes from the hospital. Like I said, there are far too many "ifs." We'll just see what happens.

Baby dropped and I'm having "practice contractions." Frederick never dropped and I didn't get very big with him (I still had abdominal muscles). This time around I am learning what it means to have your center of gravity off. I'm not waddling like a duck, but apparently I am walking a bit different. Contractions have started and have gotten my attention. I had some in August and ended up on bedrest. These current contractions send me to bed as well, but I am less concerned that they are some early omen. I expect I am just warming up.

My brain is healthy. I suppose this is the most incredible news. I am already four weeks passed the point of my major melt-down in the last pregnancy and I'm still trucking along. I got a call from a client about five weeks ago with the news that a deadline was three weeks earlier than we thought. We had to mobilize in a big way to meet it and I'm still recovering, but the amazing thing about it is that I didn't go bananas. My mother was impressed and amazed. She said, "This would have caused a major meltdown even when you were not pregnant." Good for me.

My approach has been a whole lot of self-care. I rest when I'm tired. I rarely go anywhere because it does wear me out. I am a bit disappointed in this issue. We took a short trip to the coast a month ago so that I could get in one last bit of travel. It was great but I paid for it. It's probably better to forego the trips, keep everything on track, and go on a trip sooner postpartum. I should add that we live in the middle of nowhere and so "trips" really means "visits to civilization."

Included in the self-care is less contract work and on this issue I should add "the economy really sucks." Sure, I can act like I'm not taking on new work because I'm pregnant, but it begs the question how much work is actually out there. Not a whole lot. It's a great time to have a baby I suppose since I need to reduce my workload anyway.

A big part of the self-care is eating well. I tend to go in cycles of eating exceptionally well and then not-so-well but not-so-bad either. I take supplements and will post about them soon. Eating well for me tends to be a whole lot of protein and little or no wheat. I try to eat a lot of beneficial fats such as those high in Omega 3 fatty acids. Some people have asked me if I am still drinking raw milk. Most people know me to be a raw milk drinker but also know it's on the pregnancy "avoid" list. We've had listeria in our raw milk market and I am a bit listeria-obsessed. I actually heat my lunch meat or leftovers (also on the listeria list). It takes just a few bacteria to cross the placenta to begin a chain of actions that ends in early deliveries or miscarriages. It is hard to imagine what a preemie baby due to raw milk drinking would do to my fragile brain. Baby care and brain care are first. I'll drink the milk later.

In these last seven weeks, I'll pull the trigger on the book lest I have to go back for a total rewrite on the new postpartum experience. That would kill me or I would just give up. While I am done with contracts, we're still working on marketing QEIA reports to about 500 California schools. Because I don't have enough blogs, I started a data blog related to that work. My favorite entry there so far may be about my husband Sander's plan for a trade show raffle. I don't know why *I* have the reputation for being crazy.

As I said, all's well. I hope it is with you too.

Technorati Tags: foods that fight depression, pregnancy, raw milk, Rebuild from Depression

This blog has been dead but luckily, it's not because I'm vacationing in a state institution.

We don't often get second chances in life and I didn't really expect I'd get this particular second chance. In fact, I was too chicken to plan for it. If you haven't followed my story, my biggest depressive and psychotic moments came in pregnancy and postpartum starting about seven years ago. I'm here pregnant for the second time. Smart money would have been that I'd go crazy again because these things tend to get worse instead of better. We have worked just about every day to keep that from happening again and it has paid off so far. I am increasingly confident that we can manage postpartum as well.

I posted some tools on this blog, particularly in the post "Surviving the long pregnancy march" in which I provide my somewhat notorious (around here) "Future Baby Agreement" as well as some other key rules:

(1) Do nothing that's not necessary
(2) Sleep is everything;
(3) Determine what you are deficient in;
(4) Focus your brain on something healthy;
(5) Get a bit of exercise.

For me, "focus your brain on something healthy" has been an important framework in this pregnancy. When I am under stress I actually have certain work-related projects that are very good for my brain. I write the programs for these graphs which is about 95% monkey work at this point but programming forces you to focus and to think logically. It works for me though I know that asking anyone else in this house to write a program would drive them crazy. I have found something that works very well for my brain. My son and I also enjoy side-by-side games of "Rush Hour," a board game by ThinkFun. He plays the junior version, I play the regular version. If you brain is focused on a puzzle, it's hard for it to also be anxious.

Staying focused on health is the primary reason the book is not available. It is looking like it will be January. Apparently it seemed wise to put it off, reduce stress in my life, in an effort to avoid a psychotic sequel. Someone else will handle orders from here while I rock a newborn, though I do hope to blog. In these last days I'm trying to get used to a dictation software to allow me to rock a baby and blog at the same time. That may end up being a bit much, but it's likely the only way a blog entry will happen. Of course, I may decide to focus on the rocking the baby part.

Any hour now
I had originally intended to take off the whole third trimester to reduce depression fallout. It turns out it wasn't necessary and I just kept on working until yesterday. At some point yesterday I decided "I'm done" and woke up this morning and decided "I'm really done." There's a full moon tomorrow night and if there is anything to those wive's tales about birthing on full moons, I may really be done after all. Let's hope. It's a major gymnastic event to get out of bed these days. I've had a lot of prelabor activity. I'm surely just about ready.

I have been out walking on our road, a pretty steep climb, and neighbors have been commenting. One said, "I'm surprised to see you out here at this point." I thought the comment was odd and my mom said, "I don't know how you're walking either." I asked her to take a picture and I thought, "Damn. I'm surprised too." I'll have to post a picture adding yet another reason I will not ever be able to run for public office.

Technorati Tags: brain exercises, depression, pregnancy, postpartum depression

Things are popping here and when I say "things," I really mean "me." It surely won't be much longer, particularly if I take up jump rope as my mom has suggested.

Here's the problem:

My mom (who lives on the property) took an emergency trip to the coast in our all-wheel-drive wagon. The other cars are front wheel drives. She plans to rush back if I end up in labor, but she's four hours away from us and 2 1/2 hours away from our hospital. That all seems reasonable except that we just heard that a winter storm is forecast for the weekend with snow down to 1500 feet. We could well have a foot of snow here at 3500 feet elevation, depending on temperatures and time between snow fall.

"Here" requires some explanation because there really are few places like it. We technically live in the Sequoia National Forest (on our private land). We're at 3500 feet elevation, so the big redwoods people associate with Sequoia are not right here. The southern-most stand of redwoods is about fifteen minutes away by car.

The population of the area is in the triple digits, busting into the quads on holiday weekends. For the most part, folks are retired or have vacation cabins. Year-round residents in our age group are somewhat uncommon, though we have managed to populate a junior 4-H club with our children. There aren't enough older kids to create a slate of 4-H officers, so a regular club is a no-go.

The nearest hospital is 45 minutes away. The nearest hospital we would hope to use is one hour and twenty minutes by car. The fastest way to get there would either be in the community-sponsored ambulance or by helicopter. Folks are lifted out on occasion when their situation is dire. Community volunteers with EMT training drive the ambulance. The EMTs include a plumber, a handyman, a former school psychologist, and a psych nurse. Luckily I'm not in need of a psych nurse these days, so perhaps if I end up having the baby in my bathtub, we can hope that the plumber is on call. He can at least clear the bathtub drain should that become an issue.

Facing the prospect of a foot of snow and a front wheel drive car, we may end up vacationing in civilization over the weekend should things seem necessary, but I'm actually a bit torn. I figure if we go it's very likely we won't have the baby (just because that's how things tend to go). I really want to have the baby soon. If we stay, we could well end up having more excitement than we've counted on. I don't know if I'd choose the helicopter, the plumber in the ambulance, or just have a birth right here and call no one. (Actually, I'd choose unassisted at home but the rest of the household would freak out.) The helicopter would surely be a great story and would become part of the memorable stories locals like to tell, such as when Max's property was raided for marijuana and we all sat on a neighbor's bench drinking beer and watching the plants get confiscated. There is also the time the big bolder rolled into the road and had to be dynamited out. People showed up at a ranch with a view, picnic lunches in hand.

We make our own excitement around here. Someone has to. Hopefully I won't be making any this weekend.

Technorati Tags: pregnancy

As I find myself ready to pop, I have been reflecting a on the funniest moments of the pregnancy. We have had a lot of laughs but one story is standing out for me today. over the summer we had two guys working for us on occasion to help prepare the property for the wedding we hosted. One day in August we sat and discussed work activities for the fall, what we would do after the wedding. I talked about my big brush clearing project and how I intended to spend the third trimester out clearing brush our property. Keep in mind these were 23-year-old guys as strong as oxen and hard workers. At the time I was exhausted all the time by the pregnancy and wasn't able to keep up well with the outside work. In that context I was sitting there making the claim that within two months I would be out even more pregnant with a chainsaw clearing brush from our mountain property.

Life sometimes finds me caught in a moment in which I realize how absolutely ridiculous I am. I was rambling about brushclearing and look at these guys at my dining room table, the looks on their faces, and thought "I am ridiculous." Of course I could've just voiced how ridiculous I was being, but why do that? Instead I chose escalation.

I sat back in my chair and I proclaimed, "The biggest problem with my plan is that I don't own a pair of chaps."

The looks on their faces, of course, were priceless. And on a dime one responded, "You're right. Get the chaps, then all we need is a camera so that we can make a calendar for your husband." The mental image of an eight month pregnant woman and in chaps with a chainsaw was just about more than we could stand. I couldn't stop laughing. Of course I never got the chaps and don't know if I would have the guts to make such calendar and yet somehow the lack of the calendar may be something I look back on with regret.

We had a great runner up moment just two days ago while taking pictures of my pregnant self. For about a month I realized that we really missed an opportunity. My father that tips the scale at about 300 pounds has an abdominal hernia. He started a diet this summer which as been very successful. It struck me that he is losing and I am gaining and we really needed monthly photos of us standing side-by-side to chart our progress. And so here I am at 39 1/2 weeks and finally got the picture. I realize it's a tease posting about a picture and yet not posting the picture, but some things are better left private. I will say I laughed so hard I nearly went into labor. My mother reported to me, "You win."

Technorati Tags: pregnancy, humor

There has been no helicopter lift out of the Sequoia National Forest, at least one not involving me. We did lose power earlier in the week and have had snow and black ice on the roads but we did manage to get out yesterday and are in civilization now. It turns out that the process will be much less dramatic and likely a little less satisfying.

I am out of time. Last baby was a c-section for breech and I am going to probably the most liberal practice in a four-hour drive from our house. They do VBACS, sort of. If I came in well progressed, I'd probably be good-to-go. I figured that would happen by now, but these two weeks of pre-labor symptoms have done squat. I'm starting the 41st week now, not really past due, but I have climbing blood pressure and it's hard to know if I am doing it to myself (as I have before) over not having had the baby yet or whether I would end up with a surprise at the end of all of this that it wasn't in my head after all. There are other issues as well that have piled up and are making us all think that a section is not necessary but probably prudent.

We've been negotiating dates of the section and the latest was this Saturday. It seems that everyone wants a baby before Christmas and the hospital has women lined up back-to-belly in the days before Christmas this coming week. Once I agreed to Saturday I began to plan for the c-section complications that can arise and realized that our care providers won't necessarily be around on Saturday. Frederick was in the NICU, for instance, and was treated by our regular pediatrician. I get concerned that the weekend before Christmas will leave us with a call group full of interns.

All that is background to say that I am marching in, like a lamb to slaughter, today. I am not happy about it but we are trying to manage the whole package of potential problems, not just creating the best birth situation (at least this is what my people are telling me). We have a pretty good team and can reduce a lot of problems we've had before and some new ones as well. Having a baby is such an exercise in faith that I certainly know we can't plan for everything. I try to keep those "what ifs" out of my mind. (If you comment here that I should refuse the section, you're too late. I'm in pre-op in 90 minutes.)

I've done a c-section before and have a goody bag packed for the experience. I remember being so hungry after the section that I would devour anything at all they brought into my room. The day of the section it's all liquid which means Jello and juice for the most part. You surely wouldn't want to nourish someone who just created a new life. Mom is bringing a thermos full of warm beef broth and I have fresh pomegranate juice. I have some high-powered probiotics as well to off-set the broad-spectrum antibiotics.

The whole pregnancy process and frankly parenting itself is an exercise in faith and I shouldn't be surprised that this particular critical moment comes down to faith as well. There are far too many bad outcomes in this business. We have no choice but to have faith in a good one which is what I am trying very hard to do.

I'll leave all of this with a picture. This is evidence that it's time (and this picture is ten days old). You might note from the picture why yesterday when Frederick was out playing in the snow being all boy, I stood inside and lamented the fact that I was too disabled to play with him. I have had a lot of sympathy for disabled people these days. I have been able to walk, don't get me wrong. In fact, I was walking on a steep mountain road until the snow came. I just can't juggle snow, ice, and my new center of gravity. Many days I've wondered if I would ever be the same again. I suppose it's that same faith I'm clinging to today that led me to order an attachment for a jogging stroller so that I can put a newborn baby bucket in it and become myself again. That will be one of the visions I go in with this morning.

Thank you for all of your well-wishes.

Technorati Tags: pregnancy

Alastair James was born on Thursday via scheduled c-section. He was 7 pounds 4 ounces, about a pound bigger than his brother Frederick. He is a dead-wringer for Frederick otherwise. He is sweet and content. In fact, the nurses in the NICU were trying to get him to teach the other babies how to behave.

He was in the NICU for over four days with pneumothorax, a lung condition more common in preemies though he was forty weeks. Like their looks, Frederick and Alastair shared pneumothorax as well, but Alastair's was more serious, required removal of air from his chest cavity and more extensive monitoring. He was under an oxygen hood for over a day and fed through an umbilical IV. Needless to say, Alistair's health was a huge strain on my mental health but it his condition cleared fairly quickly and I was able to focus on the positive: this is a condition that fixes itself, a good type to have if you are going to have one.

We're home now and breastfeeding is going well. He's sweet and content.

I'm sorry for not updating with the news sooner but I had no Internet access and not a whole lot of energy anyway. I'll post more details and pictures in the next few days.

Technorati Tags: depression, pregnancy

It is hard to find time to post here because I spend many hours a day rocking a baby. For me, holding a newborn and being sane at the time is a huge win, but I know that not everyone who stumbles upon this blog is interested in baby stories. At the same time, a person or two has asked for more information. Continue reading for a photo gallery. :)

Technorati Tags: postpartum depression, pregnancy

In the comments section of my recent post, Barb brought up the issue of infant trauma in the neonatal intensive care unit. My son was in the NICU for four days; my first son was in the NICU for 18 hours. Barb has worried about the impact of the experience on her own children and I was somewhat cavalier about its impact on mine. My attitude is rooted in my current approach to life, "if you can't change it, don't worry about it." Yet I do know that it matters.

There is a wee bit of research on the subject, or perhaps the beginnings of research. But I am fairly confident that babies don't just forget the early moments hooked up on vents and tubes. Frederick basically told me so on his second birthday.

I took the occasion of Frederick's second birthday to describe to him the events of the day he was born. I kept the description nice and sweet: "we drove to the hospital, they took me into surgery, the doctors took you out of my tummy, and Dadda stayed with you in the baby hospital while they made sure you were healthy." Of course, I added such things as "You were the most beautiful baby I had ever seen."

A startling thing happened in the story. When I got to the part of Frederick's stay in the NICU, Frederick began to cry inconsolably. I started to cry too and it still makes me cry today. (That is, of course, why I don't think about the topic all that much.) Frederick's length of stay and interventions were minimal compared to Alastair's but I don't know what we as parents can do beyond which we are already doing-- loving our babies as much as possible. Keeping them close by breast-feeding them and wearing them next to our chest when they are sleeping are key strategies. (My favorite tool this month is a sling from Kangaroo Korner.)

Yep, there are a whole lot of reasons to avoid the NICU. I guess it's appropriate that I have written this post by dictating (thank you MacSpeech Dictate) while holding Alastair on my lap.

Technorati Tags: depression, NICU

My life has been filled with wildly productive work cycles. I look back on a few with pride even though they required months of recovery. I don't bill my clients by the hour, but by the job, because I only work when I have the energy. When I do work, I do the work of about five people. Memorable work times are when I carry this level of work on for weeks at a time, but I can usually count on a few days of the madness every few weeks. It's simply been how I get work done.

A cycle was in the works last week: I could feel the energy, my blood pressure was up, my senses were more alert. Any other time in my life I would have said, "Hot diggity, let's get something done!" For the very first time in my life I realized that my body didn't have the energy for what was about the happen even though I had a good bit to do on this WASC project. I shut down the computer and went outside to weed. I deliberately took a week away from my for-pay work to break the cycle. I am three months postpartum and have enough energy to get by day after day, no more. I am quite sure a manic period could send me straight into the pit.

Saying "no" to mania now tops my list of postpartum survival. Other favorites:

(1) Sleep. When I have a bad night, I take an over-the-counter sleep aid the next night. I know that's cheating but it's better than Zoloft and it's better than three years of hell.

(2) Supplements. I take a liquid multi diligently and desiccated liver capsules when my stress level is high. I keep a B complex supplement in my bathroom and in my work area to take when I remember. I take about 2 grams of Omega 3 daily.

(3) Stay home. I have resisted a number of trips, both day-long and overnight. I don't need the wear and the uncertainty that comes with hauling a newborn around. The bad side of this rule is that I am feeling increasingly shut in. After nine months of pregnancy where I followed the same rule, it's about time to see things other than forest wildlife. (We live in the Sequoia National Forest away from pretty much all of civilization.) I do try to enjoy it though:

Technorati Tags: B vitamins, depression, foods that fight depression, liver, Omega 3

A big part of my anti-depression strategy in pregnancy and postpartum is to avoid the pit. It seems obvious in a sense but it is surely easier to avoid the fall into the hole than it is to climb out of it. I have been successful so far likely as the result of a whole lot of self-care as I discussed in pregnancy and again a bit recently. My top strategies continue to be (1) sleep as much as possible, (2) stay out of stressful situations, and (3) stay nourished.

If it were only the case that we could choose all of our circumstances, life would probably be reasonable. The fact is that life brings stress and we have to deal with it. With my first son, we had feeding issues that left us is such a state of desperation, perhaps I never had a chance. This time we are very lucky in many ways. Our son is even-tempered and happy. His mood helps mine which I am sure helps his in turn.

But he does have a medical problem that we are dealing with now. He will be fine in the end, but the stress of the process is more than anyone needs. If I sit still enough, it's like I can feel the suction coming from that pit I am trying to stay out of.

When Alastair was born it was obvious he had a strange position in utero. His legs were crossed across his chest rather than in the typical folded position. During his stay in the NICU, a couple of doctors looked at his feet to determine whether he had club feet. "No," they said, "just turned in feet from his fetal position." We were referred to an orthopedist who said the same thing. He was in casts for about four weeks of his first seven weeks of life as you can see in the picture above. The orthopedist then referred him to a specialist at Children's Hospital of Central California.

Two weeks ago we drove the two-and-a-half hours to Children's Hospital on the way to a business conference. The pediatric orthopedist examined his whole skeletal structure and then talked about his club feet.

I said, "Three doctors told me that these are not club feet."

"They are club feet."

"But children with club feet usually aren't healthy."

"Most of my club feet patients just have club feet and are otherwise perfectly healthy."

She cast his feet and sent us to our business conference. We then spent over two days in Sacramento with a baby ticked off at his new shoes and me saying to myself, "But these can't be club feet."

Alastair has gone through his baby stages of grief, passed denial, anger, and depression and has accepted the casts. I have finally accepted the club feet diagnosis as well but the process ahead looms large. He'll be in casts for two more weeks, have a small procedure on his tendons, wear another set of casts for three weeks, and then face three months full time in a custom brace. His case is minor enough that he may get some freedom at that point. Once he can stand, he may have full foot freedom.

His case is mild. He will be fine. We will make sure he gets any physical therapy he might need. I know all of that but I have these thoughts like "How am I going to snuggle a baby in a brace?" and then I can feel the suction from that pit.

We went back to the orthopedist this week for a new set of casts and my mom spoke with the mother of twin girls recently adopted from China. They are about three years old and were only walking unassisted when they were adopted seven months ago. My mom was amazed that in those seven months they became so proficient on their feet. "Love, care, and good nourishment is all they needed," said their mom.

We were driving home and my mom noted how much better I was doing after this visit than the first. She told me about the twins from China and the "love, care, and good nourishment." She added "that's what you need right now too." We sent my husband and older son to visit friends at the coast and we're taking the week off at home.

Technorati Tags: postpartum depression, pregnancy

I got a great gift in the mail: a review copy of Nina Planck's "Real Food for Mother and Baby."

"The best book on postnatal depression and food I've seen is Rebuild from Depression, by Amanda Rose, who understands the condition from bitter experience."

How I wish it weren't so and it's my strong need to prevent a re-run that has now made the actual book Rebuild from Depression the longest running, ready-to-print book aside from the notorious project of a friend, whose name I will not repeat here. Let's just say I haven't set the record.

I am enjoying Nina's book and hope to write more about it. Get your copy at Amazon.

Technorati Tags: postpartum depression, Nina Planck

I have done exceptionally well this pregnancy and postpartum. I made it through the entirely pregnancy without an episode. I survived the first five days postpartum with a baby in the NICU. I am going to pat myself on the back right now because I structured life well and took care of myself. I cut back on work, I worked only when I could, I stayed out of politics (somewhat). Good for me.

That paragraph is my attempt to see the glass as half full.

Somewhere in the period of six weeks or twelve weeks or sixteen weeks postpartum, risk for depression peaks. With whatever hormone ride is driving that peak, things like baby surgery intervene to plot against you. I was doing very well until Alastair's diagnosis and it was like that one small push that sends you stumbling around and trying to catch your balance. He has a procedure on his tendons Monday which requires general anesthesia. That means surgery. There's nothing like surgery for your own baby that will get you a 16 on the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Score. I tell myself, "Sixteen really isn't that bad, last time you thought your baby was filled with demons." (Clinicians get concerned when you're a 11-13 out of 30.)

When we start congratulating ourselves for not being psychotic, that may speak for itself.

Every day since I found out I was pregnant I focused on taking care of myself. I now have renewed urgency to do so and the fact that I see the urgency and can plan what I need gives me hope that things will get better soon. In the past, I was in a pit so deep I couldn't see that the list below would ever help. Getting past the surgery will surely help as well.

1) Smiling and laughing. I know it's cliche and seems so simple for such terrible circumstances, but research does show that smiling (even a forced one) and laughing help. There was a study a couple of years ago on the effect of laughing on breast milk. More laughter equals more melatonin in milk which equals better sleep for baby. It's probably not chance that in this house baby isn't sleeping as well these days. Luckily, Alastair is a very happy baby and smiles a lot. I see it as my duty to smile back every time even if I don't feel like it. We're filling up the Netflix queue with comedies as well. Good suggestions??

2) Appreciating. I know this is cliche too and if you are reading this and really struggling, you're going to want to kick my ass, but when you're on the edge between just "struggling" and "really struggling," this is a good strategy. (If you're in the "really struggling" category, get someone in person and in the profession who can help you). Back to "appreciating." I have said several times lately that I need to take a vacation anywhere really, but need a place with fresh air and an outside deck. That's about the most ridiculous thing considering that we live in the Sequoia National Forest. We are thirty minutes from Giant Sequoia trees. We have fresh air and decks on each side of our house. To start the baby steps of "appreciating," I've started taking pictures of everything that's beautiful or interesting. We have permission tonight to hike on someone else's property to get a picture of our house on its hill. That should be cool.

3) Exercising. Most people are aware that exercise increases your serotonin levels naturally. Serotonin is a fell-good hormone around which anti-depressant medications are centered. Exercising is like Zoloft with the benefit of muscle development, at least it can be if you actually do it. Deep in a pit you're not going to do it and don't kick yourself over it. One of my personal cues that I am not too deep in is that I actually can get out and do it. I take a walk with the stroller twice a day on steep terrain and I've been doing spring cleaning on the grounds. I can feel my muscles coming back.

4) Nutrients. I take a liquid multi, a B complex, omega-3 fish oil, magnesium, and desiccated liver. Hey, with all of that I don't know why I need to eat. Kidding. I am trying to eat well too. My food quality appears to be directly related to the presence of my mother, however, who just left for the week.

5) Sleep. Without sleep, you probably need not bother scoring yourself on the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale. It must be one of the single biggest factors postpartum with all of the sleep loss inherent in raising a baby. I have used an over-the-counter sleep aid either when I know it's a bad night or if a bad night happened I take one as insurance the following night. I am sure it passes into the milk but I know that can't be the worst thing to happen here. My midwife would prescribe me a sleep aid but some can be associated with depression, so check on that issue if you are hunting for one.

That's the news here. I'll post some pictures of my "appreciation" exercises. :)

Technorati Tags: B vitamins, depression, liver, postpartum depression, pregnancy

I took a picture of myself the other day. LOL.

No wonder motherhood is so tough. You grow an entire human being in nine months, feed it for another dozen or more, and carry it around the entire time, you get tired. Postpartum depression should be expected. We should get a big pat on the back if we avoid it or even get it a little bit. Regardless, we deserve a whole lot of care and respect.

The great news, though, is that I am doing really well with all of the exercise and sunshine I am getting. Hey, that really works! We repeated our hike of the other night, found the tallest bluedick flower I've ever seen and found the somewhat unusual flower that was the favorite of the scientist Jepson who classified California's wildflowers.

Technorati Tags: depression, postpartum depression, pregnancy

We had surgery Monday morning at the best children's hospital in this part of the state: Children's Hospital of Central California. We wondered if it would be safe to have surgery given the news of the swine flu epidemic over the weekend. In times of uncertainty, you just don't know. It's perhaps why the times are uncertain. I did decide, however, that if this is the beginning of a global pandemic, it would be best to get the surgery over with sooner rather than later.

We did wonder what kind of protocol we would have to follow to pass through security. Would they question us about recent travel? Ask if we had a cough? Pass out surgical masks?

I was at this same hospital seven years ago with another child who had surgery and I went bananas when they let us through security without asking about our health. It is their normal protocol to do so. I complained in two places. I was deeply concerned (read: paranoid) about my child getting sick when his immune system was compromised with surgery.

This week there was even more reason for concern over germs and, apparently, we've all gotten pretty loosey-goosey about the whole business.

The protocol for swine flu: Nothing.

They asked nary a question about our health condition at surgery. In the surgery waiting area a woman sat wrapped in a fleece blanket coughing. No one asked her to leave. She appeared to be too old to be a patient waiting for surgery.

Unlike seven years ago, I did not make a stink largely because I learned seven years ago that it did not matter and only got me more worked up.

Seven years ago

"Mom, do you think any of the nurses who were there at the time would remember me?"

After a thoughtful pause, "Yes, it's definitely possible."

Things looked pretty ugly around here in the couple of weeks leading up to Alastair's surgery. I scored myself on the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale and got a 16. The scale ranges from 0 to 30. Folks get concerned with numbers above 11 or 12. My score of 16 was pretty bad. Anyone whose baby has had surgery or has otherwise had health problems knows well why. It is close to impossible not to get worked up about the "what ifs."

I posted about my plan and I did a good job of sticking to it. The core parts of the plan were (1) Smiling and laughing, (2) Appreciating, (3) Exercising, (4) Nutrients, (5) Sleep. Read the details.

Surgery went well. Obviously, had it not, I probably would not be writing about my new-and-improved score on the Edinburgh Scale.

I am proud to say that I just scored a "3," well in the clear for now.

I wonder if I'm out of the woods, here at almost five months postpartum. I expect if I keep up with my regimen, I may just make it.

Technorati Tags: depression, postpartum depression, Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale

In my quest to appreciate, we spent last week taking pictures of Alastair in his sleepers. He can't wear them with his brace. The sleeper in the picture has angel wings. (Awww, shouldn't they all?)

A key tool in my "appreciating" quest has been the camera. I take it on walks and drives and try to record anything interesting. It makes me look for interesting things with more intent. If I am looking for interesting things I tend not to worry as much about other things. It is re-training my brain.

Technorati Tags: appreciating, photo

We have been busy here transitioning Alastair from casts to braces. He has bilateral club feet, diagnosed a bit late because they are a fairly mild case. Mild or not, they do have a protocol and the protocol is necessary for good use of his feet when he begins to walk.

It's hard to tell babies:

"This is only for three months then it will be part-time."
"This is so you can walk."

They just feel the constraints of the contraptions. It's the contraptions that have been causing Alastair a lot of grief.

Alastair has lived with leg contraptions for a while now. His doctor did a series of full leg castings. With each casting his feet were positioned increasingly properly. He had a surgery to lengthen his tendons, surgery that probably would not have been necessary had he been treated properly out of the gate. He got his last set of casts in surgery and wore them for three weeks. In the meantime, a custom brace was being fabricated for him.

This week is his first week in the brace. The brace includes special shoes created from a mold of his feet. The shoes are attached to one another with a bar and his feet are turned outward at a 60-degree angle to offset the natural inward tendency of a club foot.

He cannot kick his feet independently. He cannot touch his feet to one another. He cannot fit into a sling and is only awkwardly snuggled on a lap.

When we saw his doctor this week she asked what we thought of the brace. "We haven't figured out how to cuddle with him well, but we will." She said, "You can take it off to cuddle with him." Orders otherwise are to keep them on for 23 hours and 30 minutes a day.

What the doctor probably does not appreciate is that we have three adults in the house who would cuddle with this child all day long. I would wear him in a sling as I type this blog post. I just know that in a year or two this will surely be an issue in therapy -- my issue. In the meantime, I can hold him to my chest, lay him across my lap, and otherwise offer lots of affection. Surely the awkwardness will subside.

In all of this, I have worked hard preserving my mental health. (Read the plan and the outcome.) Being proactive has been critical. It is far to easy to get sucked into a deep hole when your baby is unhappy. In our many trips to Children's Hospital of Central California where they treat the most difficult cases in this part of the state, I see RVs parked so parents can be with their children in the NICU and PICU. I see people who have moved closer to the hospital so that they can bring their children in regularly. I wonder what they do to stay sane. I just don't know if I would make it and hope I never have to put it to the test.

Technorati Tags: club feet, postpartum depression

Just over one year ago I announced here on this blog that I was expecting a baby in December. “I don’t know if I am feeling more fear or excitement, but it’s definitely a combination of the two,” I wrote in 95% excitement and 5% fear. We did not plan to have a second child, though I do admit now that we really did want a second one more than just anything else.

This week was baby Alastair's first "half-birthday." He is six months old and I realize that perhaps my greatest achievement (ever) is making it this far healthy and sane. With my first son Frederick, the depression began in pregnancy. I had some psychotic episodes just before the birth and in the first few months postpartum. Major down cycles continued for years. For two years I was pretty much incapacitated. From there, my mental health improved each year. In this second pregnancy and postpartum period I had one bad episode that I wrote about, surrounding a surgery for Alastair, but I weathered the surgery well with some focus and tools. I stayed out of "the pit" as I call it here.

At this six month milestone I reflect the tools that got me here.

Technorati Tags: Amanda Rose, B vitamins, iron, magnesium, Omega 3, postpartum depression, pregnancy, Rebuild from Depression, zinc

This website contains a good bit of information on improving your status if you struggle with depression in pregnancy or postpartum. In the article on depression in pregnancy, learn about potential underlying nutritional causes:

Depression is complicated, but one key reason depression hits some of us in pregnancy is biological: it takes a whole lot of nutrients and fats to grow a baby. As baby uses our nutrients to grow, we are sometimes left short and one possible consequence is major depression.

I review the nutrient intake of U.S. women and suggest a key reason for depression is diet deficiencies, particularly in the third trimester when the growing baby needs high levels of nutrients to grow. I describe this information in detail in the book Rebuild from Depression.

In the postpartum period we have the same story: our bodies are depleted from the job of having grown the baby and, if we are breastfeeding, we continue to give of our nutrient stores. If you are not sure if you have postpartum depression, read about postpartum depression symptoms.

Many people find this website looking for an alternative to prescription anti-depressants. Some people do successfully avoid them, but the do work well for some. I say, work hard to find whatever works for you and let's call that a success. I discuss Zoloft and breastfeeding elsewhere.

Read the chronicle of my second pregnancy here on this blog in the pregnancy and postpartum archives. You can also find a recap article here on this blog written at six months postpartum.

Best of luck.

Technorati Tags: depression, postpartum depression, pregnancy, Rebuild from Depression

I was reading the Afterword for the book (which is now available) that I wrote about six months ago now. I describe in the new version of the Afterword how emotional I was when I realized that not only did I have another baby, but I had a second that looked just like the first. Postpartum depression steals so much from you. You cannot enjoy those tender moments with your baby and they grow up so fast. I had grieved the loss of Frederick's infancy a great deal over the past seven years and found myself so emotional when I realized that not only did I have a second healthy baby, I had one who looked just like the first. I wrote a recap about a month ago about the postpartum depression story on Alastair's six-month birthday.

In this context, I thought I would be self-indulgent and post pictures of these twin-like boys. Here is their birth, also twin-like in the c-sections and their NICU stay for pneumothorax:

Here we are at about a month or so postpartum:

I may be just about the luckiest person in the world.

~~~

Giveaway
Congratulations to Jessica Flohr, my FaceBook friend, who won in the latest supplement giveaway. She wins the jumbo pack of Omega 3s, B vitamins, and magnesium. She should contact me within the next week or so to claim her prize. Jessica could leave a comment right here with her address (and I'll remove the address before posting) or contact me on Facebook. Apparently I have been having comment problems here, problems with my email, and my Facebook account was hacked this morning. So if you have problems, it's probably on my end. I wonder who has time to hack.

We have two more winners in the coming week, one for the jumbo pack like Jessica won and one for a desiccated liver product. Early in the week is the liver, later the jumbo pack.

If you are just joining this contest, enter to win by leaving a comment anywhere on this blog. I will ship to any U.S. address. Increase your chances by doing the following:

• Friend me or follow me on Facebook(here) or Twitter(here): 1 point each
• Stumble this entry, one of the food science pages, or anything that has caught your fancy.: 1 point.
• In Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, or LinkedIn provide a link to some of the content here (see the recent food science post for a lot of ideas): 1 point
• Provide a link to this contest from your blog: 2 points (but gosh, this just increases your competition, LOL)
• Blog about some of the content on this website (see the recent food science post for a lot of ideas or check FoodGraphs.net): 3 points

Remember to contact me to claim your prize.

Technorati Tags: giveaway, postpartum depression, pregnancy, Rebuild from Depression

There is a story in the news today that is really too horrible to repeat but I thought I would write something briefly about postpartum psychosis. I would really discourage people from searching for the story.

In my first pregnancy I did actually believe that my baby was "infested" with demons. I had someone pray over them to remove them but do not remember being satisfied that they were exorcised. It was only years later in reading accounts of postpartum psychosis, thinking back on those days, and thinking to myself "you know, there wasn't a whole lot of evidence for that demon thing," that I realized that my view of the world, which I held so firmly to be true, really wasn't true at all. You simply live in another reality.

I know this is a natural health website and seeking help from mental health professionals and taking pharmaceutical drugs is anathema to many people who read this blog. However, the infanticide story that is in the news is a reminder that there are things far worse than Zoloft. I realize that a famous case involved a mom on psychiatric medication but my core point is that we need to find some way to become stable first and then do what we need to do to get better from that point.

Any approach that helps you become stable is good. You need to be monitored closely until you become stable.

In my second pregnancy I actually arranged for the director of a county mental health agency to serve as my personal case manager. I knew if things got real bad, I would get conventional psychiatric treatment. I look back on those psychotic moments with my first baby and I know that what very likely makes me different from people who have made the news is simply dumb luck. I was lucky with my first child that in response to a supposedly demon-infested baby, I attempted to have him exorcised. It could have been far worse. There is really no particular reason it wasn't.

Technorati Tags: postpartum depression, postpartum psychosis, Zoloft

In my first pregnancy eight years ago, there was little said about "depression in pregnancy," and yet I found myself in a deep pit in the beginning of the third trimester. Other expectant moms are designing nurseries and enjoying baby showers and you just can't stop crying or snapping at everyone. Anxiety starts to paralyze. You are unable to complete basic work-related or household tasks. It sure doesn't seem fair.

Depression is complicated, but one key reason depression hits us in pregnancy is biological: it takes a whole lot of nutrients to grow a baby. As baby uses our nutrients to grow, we are sometimes left short and one possible consequence is major depression.

Pregnancy, depression, and nutrition are linked

You wake up with that daily bone-tired exhaustion. It doesn’t help that your 9-month-old is still waking up in the wee hours for a feeding (or two).

Aren’t they supposed to sleep all night at six weeks?

Over breakfast you become angry that someone put the eggs on the wrong side of the refrigerator. You finish breakfast by inadvertently putting the eggs on the wrong side of the refrigerator.

During errands, you become anxious that you haven’t locked your door at home.

You go to the store for magnesium and come back with manganese.

As you drive through the parking lot and watch the other cars drive by, you wonder how your child will breastfeed after that car accident puts you in a coma. (You know, that accident you’ve been imagining for the past two weeks.)

You take the manganese with dinner and are pleased that you have begun your magnesium supplementation.

As you get ready for bed, you check the front door seventeen times to make sure it’s locked. You put a chair in front of it to secure it, just in case.

You notice for the first time that you purchased manganese. You cry and throw it in the trash. Months later you find out that you are deficient in manganese.

You return to the front door to remove the chair because it is a fire hazard. You worry about the other fire hazards in your house. You set the fire extinguisher out on the countertop, just in case.

You are relieved that night has come and as you are about to drift off to sleep, you glance at your child and notice that he has sprouted devil horns and whispers “Have you checked the bathroom lately?”

You check the bathroom and find no fire hazards but you move the fire extinguisher there, just in case.

You finally sleep only to start at the top of this page again when you wake up, like a very bad version of “Groundhog Day.”

~~~~

New days do come, fortunately. Get the treatment you need. Do not feel bad about it. You just grew an entire new person.

Talk to your doctor or midwife. Join a support group in your area. Call the Postpartum Support International Help Line. Begin to rebuild your body’s supply of nutrients. You may just end up feeling better than ever.

Technorati Tags: postpartum depression, postpartum psychosis, pregnancy, Rebuild from Depression

It is officially "the end of postpartum depression," in this house in any case. This week my child turned one. Should my family find need to send me to the looney bin today, I would not be diagnosed with "postpartum depression" since that technically happens in the first year after birth.

I chronicled my story and tools on this blog. At six months postpartum I wrote a long recap of my top strategies which included a range of lifestyle choices, not simply the food and depression focus of this blog. Another key post is one I wrote when I had a rough spot in April surrounding Alastair's surgery. I made a plan to stay healthy, worked the plan, and stayed out of the pit. For surviving this pregnancy so well and for slogging through the last one, I added Katherine Stone's "postpartum survivor bling" to this post. She's the author of "Postpartum Progress," an activist blog on policy with a lot of tips and tools for surviving.

The differences between this pregnancy and the last are dramatic. We compare the two children and the challenges surrounding them -- Frederick and the many years of mental depression and now Alastair and an economy far worse than we could have imagined. Economic misery is far easier to deal with, in my opinion, at least if you have a level head.

Beyond postpartum depression

It is a great thing to look beyond postpartum depression and enter that much easier "maintenance" mode. The only way to win the long game is to realize that you can relapse at any time, so I am aware in my work and in my relationships that I need to structure them to stay healthy. Lately, that has meant more fun and exercise for me.

In the weeks that I have neglected this blog, I have been spending such more time with Frederick, who seems to be finally rebelling against being one of two children instead of being the only child. In my time with Frederick, we are having a great time together putting some of his homeschool projects on his own little blog. You must listen to "A story for my brother," a story he tells Alastair when Alastair is crying about his casts or braces. Alastair was born with bilateral club foot which is corrected with castings and braces. You might also listen to Frederick's chicken stories, "How to chase chickens" and "The chickens that got eaten." You will find most certain unhealthy food ideas on Frederick's blog as well.

I continue to take a camera just about everywhere to "appreciate" my surroundings, a key strategy I employed back when preparing for Alastair's surgery. All of the lifestyle pictures we were shamelessly posting right here are now on their own little blog as well, all photos centered around our property and our outings in the Sequoia National Forest (also a Frederick-centered project). One of my favorite pictures is one of the cross section of a tree trunk that shows how the limbs fit into the tree. I am totally fascinated by it. When this blog is horribly neglected, you can always check there to make sure we're still alive.

Our biggest project surrounds the "lost road," a road I discovered on our property in September. These five acres have been in the family since 1982. One would think there were no roads left to find. The discovery came just in the nick of time and has provided hours of entertainment and exercise. You must read more about the lost road too, right after you listen to Frederick's story. If you're in the area, you must visit the mysterious road. It see much time in the future on this "lost road" getting exercise with Frederick. It's a great thing.

Birthday ringtones

In the run-up to the big one year mark, Frederick and I are working on two different Alastair ringtones that I have no doubt will be downloaded at least a million times, or minimally by the one grandparent who can figure out how to download the file and install it on a cell phone.

Frederick's favorite is "Alastair frustrated." It actually should make a pretty funny ringtone. Download the frustrated baby ringtone here. :)

As the mother, I have to say that I prefer the "Alastair happy" version. You can even hear a few hiccups. Download the happy baby ringtone here.

You can listen to the audio files and install them on your phone if you can figure out how. We are still in the "figuring out" stage.

Technorati Tags: appreciating, depression, postpartum depression, pregnancy, Rebuild from Depression

Our brains need fats, vitamins, and minerals to be healthy. At no point in our lives is our need for nutrients greater than it is in pregnancy, when we are creating a whole new life. Pregnancy may leave you deficient in key nutrients that keep your brain healthy. As a result, you may end up experiencing postpartum depression, anxiety, or obsessive compulsive disorder.

Might you be deficient? Answer these questions:

* Have you ever been on a "low fat" diet?
* Was your pregnancy, birth, or baby's infancy stressful?
* Were you anemic or borderline anemic in your pregnancy?
* Does your hair and fingernails grow slowly?
* Do you get stretch marks easily?

If you answered "Yes" to any of these questions, you will benefit from the information in the book Rebuild from Depression. You may well have a deficiency in at least one of the nutrients your brain needs to be healthy.

The book opens with the claim:

"My grandmother died at the age of sixty-one of complications from postpartum depression."

Indeed, grandmother displayed symptoms of nutrient deficiencies in her postpartum period, never corrected them, and developed diseases related to those same deficiencies. Omega-3 fatty acids are implicated in depression, diabetes, and heart disease, all of which her grandmother developed.

We must correct our nutritional intake now to improve mental health and to avoid complications that may follow. Of course, you also need relief now.

You can find a good bit of information on this site about nutrients and depression. The book is a far better organized and more thorough read.

Read more about the book:

Read my postpartum depression story, "Second Baby, Second Chance."