“Oh, just so you know, you may be experiencing postpartum depression,” the pediatrician nonchalantly stated from the doorway of the exam room. He’d just wrapped up the two-month checkup for my healthy, squirmy newborn daughter and was about to move on to his next patient.
“It’s from that questionnaire you filled out. You should probably talk to someone about it,” he remarked, drifting away, now more in the hallway than in the room itself.
“Good luck!” he called, already heading towards the next tiny, gassy visitor.
I stood there, stunned and incredulous at the casualness of his comment. He was right: I was grappling with postpartum depression. The weeks prior had felt like a relentless nightmare. I often cried myself to sleep, my eye mask practically growing mold from the tears. Each morning, I wished the day would end before it even began, often telling my husband, “I just can’t handle this anymore,” when what I truly meant was, “I feel like I don’t want to live this life.”
Fortunately, I also had a fantastic therapist, one I’d been seeing before, during, and after my pregnancy. She was aware of my increased risk for postpartum mood disorders and had an action plan ready for when those feelings surfaced.
But this doctor, sauntering down the hallway, had no clue about any of that. To him, that “questionnaire” might have been my cry for help; for all he knew, I was seeing daylight for the first time in weeks. He seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that I could have been contemplating something serious regarding my well-being.
His offhand comment about postpartum depression from the doorway felt alarmingly indifferent. It was a stark reminder that I was often an afterthought in a world that revolved around my little bundle of joy. I felt smaller than my baby’s microscopic fingernails, which are, let’s face it, ridiculously tiny.
How could he let me leave the office without any support, without even an offer to help with the door? When will physicians start recognizing the importance of mothers, not just as caretakers but as individuals deserving of care themselves? When will they realize that a mother’s mental health is intrinsically linked to her baby’s physical health? How many opportunities did he miss to assist someone who was truly suffering?
I don’t have all the answers, but one thing is clear: we must advocate for improved postpartum mental health care for mothers. We need to amplify our voices, making it unmistakably clear that we deserve much better than the inadequate mental health support currently available. We must stand up for all the mothers who face these challenges, for those who are overlooked or misdiagnosed, and for those, like myself, who were simply ignored.
Because you can’t effectively care for a baby without also caring for its mother. And you can’t care for the mother if she’s merely seen as an afterthought.
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Summary:
This article explores the author’s experience of receiving a dismissive comment about postpartum depression from a pediatrician. The piece emphasizes the importance of recognizing mothers’ mental health needs and advocating for better support systems. It also stresses that a mother’s well-being is crucial to her child’s health.
Keyphrase: postpartum depression awareness
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