After four years of marriage and two miscarriages, my husband Jamie and I were overjoyed the day we learned we were expecting a baby girl. We could not wait to share the happy news with our family and friends. Despite being diagnosed early in my pregnancy with hyperemesis, an extreme form of morning sickness, I was very excited for the future. Everything changed drastically though, when I began feeling really anxious. I had dealt with anxiety in the past after the loss of my mom, but this was different. The anxiety started affecting my sleep and I developed terrible insomnia. To my horror, this snowball effect continued and quickly progressed into debilitating, prenatal depression during the fourth month of my pregnancy.  Depression was something I had never experienced before, but I soon learned firsthand the depths of its darkness.

Awaiting the birth of our first child should have been one of the best times in our lives, decorating the nursery, choosing baby names and attending baby showers in our honor. But it was undoubtedly the worst, because I was too sick to do any of these things or anything else that resembled a normal life. I saw a psychiatrist who prescribed medications but they did not relieve the anxiety or insomnia, and especially not the depression. I worried constantly about how these medications would affect my growing baby.

I had to take medical leave from my career of fifteen years, and Jamie used the Family Medical Leave Act to stay home and care for me. He helped me shower and get dressed, prepared every meal and drove me to all my doctors' appointments. He was with me constantly as I was afraid to be alone. This went on for so long that he eventually lost his job, and so we found ourselves facing a financial hardship as well.

Our baby girl Lola was born on November 12th, 2008, and my doctors as well as my entire family hoped that her birth would be a turning point for me. Instead, my symptoms worsened and I transitioned into postpartum depression. Jamie was head over heals in love with her the minute he laid eyes on her.  On the other hand, I failed to develop feelings for my beautiful baby. In fact, I had no desire to hold her, kiss her or comfort her. Every time she smiled, I would cry. Every time she cried, I would cringe inside. There was no way I could care for her so Jamie, along with my father's help, took care of both of us. I remember feeling sorry for Lola that she had a mommy like me who was disabled and distant. Precious moments were passing me by. I continued to try multiple medications that either did not work or caused horrible side effects.

As if the anxiety and depression were not enough, the sleep deprivation was almost more than I could bear. This went way beyond the normal sleepless nights that new moms know to expect. For months on end, I could only sleep one to two hours every night and could not nap during the day no matter how hard I tried. This was despite taking the strongest sleep aids that my doctors could prescribe. It felt like my body was simply going to give out on me from the sheer physical and mental exhaustion. I was unable to do the things that I desperately needed to do to get better, like exercising and other normal activities. I was unable to manage simple chores around the house. I could not stand to read or watch television. There was no pleasure in anything I did. My days consisted of moving from my bed to what my father called "the depression couch" and then back to bed again.

The best efforts by Jamie, family and friends to reach out to me could not break through the darkness that surrounded me. I had completely isolated myself from all my friends, including my best friend of more than 25 years, and the majority of my family. The depression deepened to the point where I was convinced that I was going to be like that for the rest of my life. I was never going to smile or laugh again, I was never going to be the independent person I once was and worst of all, Lola was never going to have the kind of mother she deserved.

Then a ray of light finally appeared in the darkness. I found a therapist who succeeded in gaining my trust and persuaded me to start letting loved ones back into my life. I was also fortunate enough to have an angel come into my life, a perfect stranger who had recently gone through postpartum depression herself. It was my cofounder Shelley Shook. Words cannot express what it meant to be able to talk to someone who knew exactly what I was going through. And I finally found a combination of medications that slowly started working, allowing me to sleep a little better and take baby steps towards my recovery.

Today I am back at work, and Jamie is a stay-at-home daddy to Lola. I feel like I have myself and my life back, which I was certain were lost to me forever. I have joy and hope again and best of all, I love my husband and baby girl more than I ever thought possible. If I can recover after suffering nearly a year with severe prenatal and postpartum depression, then anyone can. There is a beautiful butterfly waiting to emerge from that dark cocoon.

Karen ~ 2009

Read Jamie's Story - Karen's husband

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