I Shared Joyful Photos on Social Media While Battling My Postpartum Depression

My aunt has never offered me a single compliment, but she’s always quick to share her critical opinions. One particular remark that sticks with me is when she said, “I hope you never have children.” More on that later. Despite her beliefs, there was one area where she recognized my talent—writing. After I assisted her daughter with her college application essay, my aunt gave me what felt like a rare kind word: “I hope you turn this into something one day.”

Why am I recounting this? Contrary to her wishes, I did have children—two, to be exact. However, behind the cheerful facade of motherhood I portrayed on social media, a much darker reality lurked: I struggled with severe postpartum depression.

Initially, postpartum depression may be brushed off as “the baby blues.” Perhaps you did a quick online search after your own delivery to understand why you were crying so easily and found a few articles claiming it was just hormones that would stabilize soon. But what happens when those emotions don’t just fade away? When someone suggests you aren’t adjusting well to motherhood, or someone tells you your baby is “so easy” after a brief encounter with him, ignoring the fact that he cried for 18 hours straight the day before?

In my case, I withdrew. External interactions only reinforced my fears that I was failing. I would put my colicky baby in a carrier and pace the hallway, greeting my partner with empty eyes when he got home from work. He remarked that I was a shell of my former self. “Shell” perfectly described it—I felt fragile, ready to crumble. I held onto hope that things would improve after the newborn phase, all the while putting on a cheerful front on social media, unaware that it was making other new moms question why they felt so lost.

This is the downside of social media: you end up comparing your reality to everyone else’s highlight reel. Looking back at the pictures I posted of my son as a baby, I can now see the truth behind the cheerful captions.

Caption: “Fast asleep now after being up all night!”
Translation: “I am mentally and physically exhausted.”
Caption: “Silence, I say!” (cute photo with mustache pacifier)
Translation: “His screams are making me want to scream.”

And so the posts continued until one day, I could no longer keep up the facade. I wished I could just drive away and start anew, but instead, I made the most important decision of my life and drove to my doctor’s office.

I was too choked up to speak when I arrived. The fragile shell I had been living in had officially shattered. My doctor looked at me without flinching and diagnosed me with postpartum depression. I protested, insisting I didn’t want to hurt my baby or myself; I simply wanted my life back.

I came to understand that postpartum depression doesn’t always look like what you see in the movies. Sometimes, it appears as a collection of beautiful baby photos on a mom’s social media account because she feels isolated and longs for connection. At other times, it manifests as the tearful, weary reflection staring back at you in the mirror.

I anticipated that postpartum depression would rear its head again when I had my daughter a few years later, and sure enough, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I avoided social interactions, making excuse after excuse to isolate myself. Visitors complimented my tidy home, oblivious to the chaos that I had merely shoved out of sight.

During my second experience, I recognized the storm brewing and chose not to resist it. I sought the help I needed to ensure I could savor her babyhood. This was my last chance; I wasn’t going to miss out on that joy again.

Help can take many forms—therapy, medication, or simply shedding the mask and expressing those bottled-up emotions. It’s crucial to find what works for you, sooner rather than later, for your own well-being.

Now, back to my aunt. If you’re reading this, I apologize. I defied your wishes and became a mother. Some days, I fall short, and my children say I’m no longer their friend. But most days, I am their comfort, their storyteller, their boo-boo kisser, and their entire world.

You might be pleased to know that I did heed one part of your advice. I’m sharing this article to let other mothers know they’re not alone in feeling overwhelmed by the monumental shift that is motherhood, and to offer a listening ear when the role feels too heavy. Thank you for encouraging me to “do something with this.” If my words resonate with even one person, it’s the most meaningful encouragement you’ve ever given me.

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In summary, the journey of motherhood can often be filled with unexpected challenges, such as postpartum depression. It’s essential to seek help and express your feelings, rather than hiding behind a perfect social media facade.

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