Raw Writing for the Real World of Bipolar

Everyone's heard a postpartum story, even if only on the news. We all the know the story of Andrea Yates, who drowned her five children within a short time after giving birth to her last child. Andrea believed that her children were to perish in the fires of hell because she was not righteous. Andrea was in psychiatric care for depression for over two years before this incident.

One or two in a thousand women end up in postpartum psychosis and I happened to be one of them. I gave birth to a healthy baby girl in April of 2007. It had been a difficult pregnancy. Two months into my pregnancy I learned I had Bipolar Disorder. I was relieved to know that there had been something wrong with me all this time. I thought that I could finally get some help. I wasn't given any mood stabilizers while I was pregnant. They weren't sure what the medications would do to the fetus I was carrying. I spent the entire ten months in a state of anxiety and depression that made me claw at my skin. I didn't know what was happening to me. It was an awful time in my life.

A little over a month after giving birth, I went into postpartum depression. I knew I was in postpartum and I even went to the doctor. I was put on Lamictal and Zyprexa. I just don't think there was enough time for it to work. My mood fluctuated from mania to anger to anxiety to depression. I remember obsessively cleaning my house in the middle of the night. I began thinking that I was a horrible mother. I dreamt of how I would kill myself. And then one day I began having horrible thoughts. I became resentful of my baby. The baby wouldn't sleep long enough. The baby cried too much and I felt overwhelmed. I was alone all day with the baby and a three year old. My husband commuted to his work over an hour away.

I became a person I didn't recognize. I shouted for my baby to shut up and had an urge to shake her. I managed to resist the urge. The next day the urge was worse. I called my doctor and left her a message because I knew I needed help. I sobbed and laid my baby back in her bassinet. I couldn't stop crying. I called my husband to come home immediately. I called my doctor again and left another message. I knew I was in a bad way and the realization of it calmed me a little. After rocking my baby, I fell asleep holding her. She was finally quiet and I was glad. I woke up, opened my eyes, and saw two androids/aliens standing at the end of my chair and they were holding out their arms to take the baby away from me. I clutched my baby closer, blinked, and they were gone. I got up and put the baby in the bassinet and sobbed uncontrollably while I waited for my husband to get home. I felt so ashamed.

I finally got a call from my doctor around 5:30 that evening. I told her what was going on. At first, she wanted to give me an antidepressant added to the Lamictal and Zyprexa that I was already taking. I argued that would send me into mania and I didn't want that. To complicate things further I told her about the urge to shake the baby and the androids. That sent her over the edge and she told me to go to the mental hospital. I argued with her and cried. She asked to speak to my husband and somehow she convinced him of my need to go. After a little coaxing from him, I finally agreed to go.

We drove an hour to reach the mental hospital. The building was old and only had five floors. I had trepidation just looking at it. We entered and immediately were met with guards who wanted to ransack our bags and put paper bracelets on our wrists. After a short discussion on whether or not cell phones were allowed we were told to go to the fifth floor for assessment. Up we went. The elevator door chimed and we got out and found a lady who asked me to fill out paperwork. It seemed very surreal. The hospital looked normal and sounded normal and so did the people who filled the waiting room. Was I in the right place?

I saw a nurse who took my vitals and asked me what meds I was on. Then I saw a social worker who asked me a million questions about why I was there. After I told him that I didn't want to share my information with him, since he could get my kids taken away from me, he assured me that I wouldn't get my kids taken away. I told him my story and he wasn't shocked. I'm sure it was old hat to him, but to me it was terrifying. I saw the doctor next who wanted to admit me for two to three days. He said it was as much for my sake as it was for the childrens.

I went to the waiting room for a nurse to come get me. I had a dinner while I waited. My husband asked me if I was sure that I wanted to stay. He was sad that he was going to be away from me. He teared up even. He told me that he could stay home with me for a few days to see if that helped so I wouldn't have to stay there. The nurse came to get me and so I could begin signing myself away on paperwork. I didn't want to sign away my freedom so easily so I asked for a Power of Attorney form. While she went to get it I began reading all the small print. The part on the amount of money this would cost, even with insurance, made me pause. We couldn't afford $1500 even if we were put on a payment plan. I decided to leave. After I got home I wasn't so sure that I did the right thing.

I felt like I had been living in a horror movie. How could I, even for a second, have thought about harming my precious little baby? What chemical imbalance made me this monster? I forced myself to start having more positive thoughts and I let go of my pride and asked for help from my in-laws. I spent a week with them and the kids and I spent another week with my father and my husband. They helped me so much during that time. I shudder to think what would've been my fate without them. Would I have ended up like Andrea Yates? Would my children have ended up like her children?

If you or someone you know has bipolar disorder and gives birth, please tell them about my story. It is more likely that they will have postpartum psychosis. The mother should never spend most of her time alone with an infant because this could lead to severe sleep deprivation. Constant contact with a psychiatrist or therapist during the first six weeks after a child's birth is highly recommended. If there's a choice between meds and breast feeding to be made, please choose the medications. The sooner treatment is sought in postpartum, the better. This can be controlled with medication. There are options out there. There is help.

My little baby is now fourteen months. She said "Mama" last week and "Dada" just yesterday. I am so very thankful that she is here. When I think back upon what could've happened, I still get teary eyed. She's so beautiful and she lights up a room. I will always be thankful to the people who helped me get though that time in my life. We are never alone in our walk through life, not when we truly need it.

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© 2009 Cristina Fender