A week into my horrendous episode of postpartum depression, I went to my family doctor to see what he could do. I wanted solutions- Now.

My two biggest questions for him at the time were ‘When will this be Over?’ & ‘When will I feel like myself again?’.

Then he said something that floored me.

He said most of the women that came to see him in a state like mine reported feeling better somewhere around the two YEAR mark.

I about died.

This was, by far, the Worst I had ever felt mentally and he was telling me it was going to last TWO YEARS?!!!

I remember that moment like it was yesterday, and yet I’m SO, so glad that moment was almost two years ago now.

I had a moment this weekend.

Ryan and I and the girls were participating in a neighbourhood Bike & Bevvie event on Saturday.

There were 5 houses on the tour. Every house makes an appy and a cocktail, and everyone bikes to each other’s houses. Each stay is about 1.5 hours.

Ryan had the girls hitched up in the wagon behind his bike and at every house we went to, we released the girls and they ran off to join the other pack of children.

I changed Lucy’s diaper at our house’s stop, and I helped make sure she didn’t go too fast down the slide at another house, but other than that, I barely saw her all day.

My little girl who is not yet two was keeping pace with all the big kids, careening in and out of playrooms and into backyards, climbing things, jumping on things, playing with new toys, having a blast.

And I was outside enjoying drinks with new friends and nibbling on yummy foods and having laughs.

It struck me around 9:30 that night after we had put the girls to bed that this was it.

This was the almost-two-year-out benchmark that my doctor had given me in 2021.

This point in time where I finally felt Better.

Where the postpartum depression, sadness, anxiety, suicidal ideation and general misery no longer had a hold on me.

The experience of shedding my postpartum depression felt much like grief does.

There’s an initial impact where it absolutely guts you and you can imagine no other reality than pain and sadness, and then you steadily swim away from that point into a place where it can still grip you by the foot but not entirely drag you down.

I could have Never imagined two years ago that I would be in this place now, floating peacefully on the surface, the sun warming my face, but here we are.

The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP) recognizes the month of September as National Suicide Prevention Month. As such, I’ve been coming across a lot of suicide content on my social media lately. I’ve wanted to say something about it but wasn’t sure what to say.

For a solid three months of my postpartum depression, I craved suicide every day. I would think terrible thoughts like ‘Ryan can do so much better than me. If I just get rid of myself now, he can find a better mother for our children sooner rather than later.’ I genuinely thought my girls would be so much better off if I wasn’t in the picture.

I can’t even fathom having those thoughts now, but for three months of my life, they were Very, very real.

If you’re in a spot right now yourself that feels like Fresh, fresh Hell- please know, it Does get better.

It might not be right away like you want, but somewhere, two years away, you could be in this same place, looking backward on a terrible time.

I’m So, so glad to see where the last two years has taken me.

It can, and does, get better.

XO,

Em