Melanie Paddock’s Story

At PSI, we understand that storytelling has the power to save lives, and we are honored to provide a space for survivors to share their stories. This article is part of a subsection of the PSI blog dedicated to survivor stories. Please note that this story has not been edited, and caution is advised as distressing themes related to perinatal mental health may be present. If there are specific trigger warnings for an article, they will be listed below. Links to resources can be found at the bottom of this page.

Trigger warning: traumatic birth

My daughter was born 10 weeks early on 4/17/23. I had severe preeclampsia and was in the hospital for 11 days. During that 11-day stay, my blood pressure was so high that I was moments away from the ICU. On the day my daughter was born via emergency c-section, my blood pressure was 190/110 and I was maxed out on blood pressure medications. I wasn’t able to see my daughter for 24 hours after she was born due to the number of complications I had. I wasn’t able to hold her for 72 hours after she was born due to her fragile, premature state. The guilt I felt for not being able to carry her to term and for not being able to be with her after she was born was so deep, that it was painful. After I delivered, I noticed I was extremely anxious and unable to relax enough to sleep, but I thought this was due to the hourly checks by nurses and was convinced I would get much-needed rest when I got home.

I first knew something was wrong when I got home from the hospital and was so wracked with anxiety that I couldn’t sit still and I would physically shake when I laid down in bed. I know now that these are classic trauma symptoms and after all I had been through my body was in fight or flight mode. After three nights of not sleeping for even one minute, I reached out for help. I didn’t know at the time, but I know now: that insomnia is a symptom of postpartum depression (PPD) and postpartum anxiety (PPA).

The first two doctors I spoke to dismissed me, and told me to do breathing exercises and “relax.” I even had one nurse tell me to try a glass of wine at bedtime. A few friends I confided in about how I was feeling dismissed me with comments like “Your baby is okay though, why are you upset?” or the worst one, “Enjoy the time your baby is being taken care of by nurses and you can sleep.” I felt so unsupported and invalidated – no matter what I was trying, no one had an answer or offered help. My anxiety quickly turned into a deep, dark depression. The best way to explain how I felt during this time was that life was happening around me, but I was moving in slow motion underwater. I didn’t have hope. My baby was still in the NICU, no one was offering help to me with my symptoms, and I felt alone and scared. I thought I was going crazy.

My mom encouraged me to make one more call to my OB-GYN. My OB-GYN put me in touch with a maternal mental health specialist who was incredibly kind and compassionate. She gave me the words I needed so desperately to hear: “You have post-traumatic stress disorder, postpartum depression, and postpartum anxiety. We will work together to ensure you get the help you need.” That day she referred me to a psychiatrist who worked with me on medication to help me sleep and an antidepressant. During all of this time of struggle, I was still getting up every day and visiting my baby in the NICU. It was a constant rollercoaster of emotions and I constantly felt on edge, but I got into the routine of home, hospital, home. Time stood still inside those four walls of the hospital and it was extremely alienating. Loneliness is a breeding ground for trauma and depression.

After 65 excruciatingly long days, my baby was released from the NICU. I was convinced I would finally feel better and be able to exhale. Unfortunately, the symptoms came back tenfold and I was constantly worried if my baby was breathing, eating enough, or if she was going to get sick. I was back to not sleeping again, and when I say not sleeping, I don’t mean normal newborn lack of sleep. I have an older daughter and I know what that feels like. I was unable to sleep in between feedings or any time I had the opportunity to lay down and rest because I was a nervous wreck.

I was so traumatized that it was hard for me to hold my baby or bond because I was doing everything I could just to function. At this point, I reached back out to psychiatry and started EMDR therapy with a local specialist. My meds were increased and I began weekly 90-minute EMDR sessions. EMDR, or eye movement desensitization and reprocessing, is a type of trauma therapy that helps you process and reshape your thinking of a traumatic event. It allows your brain to heal. These sessions were hard. Very, very hard. We went over every aspect of my birth story repeatedly, the insomnia, the PPD and PPA, and the trauma of not being able to be with my baby. I have been in weekly talk therapy in addition to the EMDR. Medicine, EMDR, and talk therapy have changed my life for the better.

I was lucky to have a supportive mom and husband who were my rocks during this timeframe. My mom came to stay with me for six weeks and my husband did night feedings so I could just focus on getting my insomnia under control. Without their support, this would have been a longer, tougher journey.

My daughter turned one on April 17 and I can honestly say I have weathered the storm. She is happy, healthy, and flourishing. I am so grateful for the kindness the maternal mental health doctor showed me. After being dismissed many times, her promise to help me was the beacon of light I needed during the worst storm of my life. This hasn’t been an easy journey. I still take medication and I will stay on it as long as I need to. This experience rocked me and my foundation to the core, but if I could tell myself one thing a year ago that I know now, it’s this: You are strong. You are brave. You are a wonderful mother. Do not take no for an answer and keep fighting, because you’re worth it, and the other side of this battle is a beautiful place to be.

If you could provide a piece of advice to another parent in need of help, what would you say?

Your feelings and experiences are valid. Do not stop asking for help until you find someone who will listen. Ask for help often and early. You WILL feel better.