Before You Say Postpartum Isn’t Real

I need to say this because lately, it has been sitting really heavy on my heart.

I am so tired of hearing people say postpartum depression isn’t real.

Postpartum anxiety isn’t real.

Postpartum psychosis isn’t real.

Or hearing someone say,

“I had postpartum depression, and I never felt that way.”

But that was your postpartum experience.

Not hers.

Not mine.

Not anyone else’s.

No two babies are exactly alike, so why do we expect every mother—or every parent—to experience the postpartum period exactly the same?

Some babies sleep.

Some don’t.

Some babies have colic.

Some don’t.

Some parents adjust quickly.

Some cry.

Some panic.

Some cannot sleep even when their baby is sleeping.

Some experience fears or thoughts they cannot explain.

And some become so incredibly unwell that the person their family sees struggling may seem completely different from the person they have always known.

That does not make what they are experiencing fake.

Postpartum mental illness is real.

I Don’t Just Read About Postpartum. I See It.

Maybe this subject hits me differently because of the profession I am in.

As a postpartum doula, I am invited into families’ homes during one of the most beautiful—but also one of the most vulnerable—times of their lives.

I don't just read about postpartum.

I see it.

I have walked into homes and seen what exhaustion can do.

I have seen anxiety.

I have seen depression.

I have seen parents struggling while still loving their babies more than anything in the world.

I have seen mothers who need someone to tell them that it is okay to sleep.

I have seen fathers struggle too.

I have seen parents running on almost nothing while still trying every single day to be the best parents they can be.

And that is also why it hurts when I hear people say,

“Why does anyone need a postpartum doula? I took care of my own kids.”

Because that misses the entire point.

Most families asking for help aren't asking because they don't love their babies.

They aren't asking because they're lazy.

They aren't asking because they can't be parents.

Sometimes they are asking for help because they are trying so hard to be the best parents they can be.

Maybe Mom needs a few hours of sleep so she can function tomorrow.

Maybe Dad is overwhelmed.

Maybe they don't have family nearby.

Maybe breastfeeding is harder than they expected.

Maybe they are scared.

Maybe they are learning.

Maybe there is another child in the house who still needs their parent during the day.

Maybe they simply need someone to tell them, “You're doing okay. Get some sleep. I've got the baby.”

Or maybe that parent is struggling with depression, anxiety, or another postpartum mental health condition while desperately trying to keep going.

There is nothing wrong with needing help.

We don't shame a child for getting extra help in school.

We celebrate when someone who is struggling with addiction finally reaches out for support.

So why do we make parents feel weak for saying,

“I can't do this alone right now”?

This Is Personal to Me

This subject affects me more deeply than I sometimes know how to explain.

Because this isn't just something I have an opinion about.

It's something I care deeply about.

I have been inside homes during some of the most vulnerable moments of people's lives.

I've held babies while exhausted parents finally closed their eyes.

I've listened to mothers talk about fears they were scared to say out loud.

I've watched parents question whether they were doing anything right when, from where I stood, I could see how incredibly hard they were trying.

And maybe that's why the judgment surrounding postpartum mental health hurts me so much.

Because when someone makes fun of postpartum mental illness, dismisses it, or tells another parent that they should be able to handle everything because they did—

I think about the families I've cared for.

I think about the parents who trusted me enough to let me into their homes when they were vulnerable.

And I wish everyone understood that sometimes people don't need our opinions about how strong they should be.

Sometimes they just need someone to notice they're struggling.

Sometimes they need someone to believe them.

Sometimes they need someone to listen.

And sometimes they need help.

There should never be shame in that.

Your Postpartum Experience Is Not Someone Else’s

You can have had postpartum depression yourself and still not understand exactly what another person is experiencing.

You can have raised five children and still not know what another mother needs.

You can have had an easy postpartum recovery and still have compassion for someone whose experience looks completely different.

Another person's illness does not become less real simply because yours looked different.

Maybe instead of saying,

“Well, I didn't need help,”

we can say,

“I'm glad help was there when you needed it.”

Maybe instead of comparing someone's hardest moments to our own experiences, we can listen.

Learn.

Educate ourselves.

Have compassion.

Because you don't know what is happening inside somebody else's mind.

You don't know how many nights they haven't slept.

You don't know how many times they cried when nobody was watching.

You don't know how many times they almost asked for help but couldn't find the words.

And you don't know how hard they may be fighting just to make it through today.

This Is Why Our Words Matter

This may be the part that concerns me the most.

Every time someone says postpartum depression isn't real…

Every time someone makes a joke about postpartum anxiety…

Every time someone says postpartum psychosis is “just an excuse”…

Someone who is struggling might hear you.

A mother might hear you.

A father might hear you.

And instead of asking for help, they may decide to stay quiet.

They may hide what they're feeling.

They may become ashamed of the thoughts going through their head.

They may convince themselves that admitting they're struggling will make people think they're a bad parent.

And that is exactly why we need to stop dismissing postpartum mental health.

Because shame keeps people silent.

Judgment keeps people silent.

Fear of what other people will think keeps people silent.

And silence can prevent someone from getting the help they desperately need.

If You Are Struggling, Please Tell Someone

If you're reading this and you're struggling right now, please know that you do not have to pretend everything is okay.

Needing help does not mean you don't love your baby.

It does not mean you aren't grateful for your baby.

And it does not mean you have failed as a parent.

You don't have to pretend you're okay simply because everyone expects this to be the happiest time of your life.

It is completely okay to ask for help.

Tell your partner.

Tell someone in your family.

Tell your doctor or another healthcare professional.

Tell your doula.

Tell someone you trust.

And if I am that person for you—

tell me.

You don't need to have the perfect words.

You don't have to worry that I'm going to think you're a bad mother or a bad father.

You don't have to convince me that what you're experiencing is “bad enough” to deserve support.

I will listen without judgment.

And if what you're experiencing is beyond the support I can provide as your doula, I will encourage you to reach out to the appropriate healthcare professional and help you take that next step.

Because asking for help isn't weakness.

Sometimes the strongest words a struggling parent can say are:

“I need help.”

We Need More Support, Not More Judgment

Before dismissing postpartum depression, postpartum anxiety, postpartum psychosis, or another postpartum mental health condition, please take the time to learn about them.

And before judging a parent for needing help, remember that asking for help might be one of the strongest things they ever do.

We don't need more judgment.

We need more education.

More support.

More people paying attention.

More people believing someone when they say,

“I'm not okay.”

And more people willing to answer,

“I hear you. Let's get you the support you need.”

Because postpartum mental illness is not made up.

It is not weakness.

It is not something someone invented because parenthood became difficult.

And another person's illness does not become less real simply because their experience looks different from yours.

Postpartum mental illness is real.

And the families experiencing it deserve compassion, support, and access to appropriate care.

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A Note to My Families

If you are one of my clients—past, present, or future—and you are struggling, you can tell me.

You don't need to have the right words.

You don't have to be embarrassed.

And you don't need to pretend everything is okay for my benefit.

My role as your postpartum doula is not to diagnose or treat a mental health condition. But I can listen. I can support you without judgment. I can encourage you to reach out for professional help when needed. And I can remind you that asking for support does not make you any less of a parent.

Sometimes caring for a new baby also means making sure someone is caring for the parents.

You matter, too.