PPD...or PPMD?

PMDD= Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. Remember those Yasmin, or YAZ ads? Those three girls sitting at a night club, sipping cosmopolitans, and talking about PMDD and to ask your doctor about YAZ?

According to the Mayo Clinic website, PMDD can be described as, " a severe, sometimes disabling extension of premenstrual syndrome (PMS). Although regular PMS and PMDD both have physical and emotional symptoms, PMDD causes extreme mood shifts that can disrupt your work and damage your relationships." (please visit the website for further information: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/pmdd/AN01372 ).

 I was diagnosed with PMDD when I was 17 years old; and subsequently started taking oral contraceptives (Yasmin, actually). It really, really helped me. Fast forward to late 2008. I stopped taking the pill and we tried to get pregnant three months later; and I succeeded. We had a beautiful baby girl that September 2009.

2010 is a year that I honestly hardly remember. I was a miserable working mom with a miserable unemployed husband. I regret our cloudy attitudes about our situations that were out of our control, but thankfully in all the darkness, we had a great light: Madelyn. It was a very tough year that challenged our marriage, but we prevailed.

In 2011, Ross was among the employed again, and I was able to reduce my work schedule to part time. We had a better balance and felt ready to add another member to the family. I found out I was pregnant with Ezra in June. I exercised and ate better with this pregnancy; making it an over better year for me. Ezra was born in February 2012. I was blessed to have a healthy pregnancy and delivery and felt immediately bonded and energized within an hour after delivering my son. I remember spending the one night in the hospital after having him- I felt so comfortable and confident that I had Ross go home and sleep with Maddy. I felt so at peace; alone with my new baby, nursing without difficulty, and just feeling like every thing was as it should be. I was able to follow the desire of my heart and stay at home with my children; rather than return to work after 3 months.

About 4-5 months later, things started to get more difficult. This is about the time that Ezra stopped being "Easy Ezzie", and started waking a lot at night. It should be noted that my period came back five months post partum despite breastfeeding on demand; precisely as it did with Madelyn. It was around this time that I started to notice more difficult periods where I would completely lose my temper with Maddy and Ross. With Madelyn, everyone assured me that the "Terrible Three's" were really worse than the "Terrible Two's".  I experienced moments of near loss of control anger, yelling at my daughter to take a nap and then stomping into my room, slamming the door, and throwing a shoe and/or scream into a pillow. Shortly after I would feel guilty and like I was a horrible mother. I confided in friends, who were very supportive and assured me that it was okay and agreed to pray for me. I would semi-jokingly say to others, "I sometimes feel like I have symptoms of post partum depression, but directed toward Maddy and not Ezra". I actually really did question whether or not I had PPD...but only at moments. I really didn't feel like I had PPD because I didn't really match the bullet points listed as symptoms. I relished in being a mother and caring for my newborn/infant. It was only brief periods that I would lose it.

It wasn't until one evening when I completely lashed out at Ross. He agreed to take the baby monitor while he stayed up playing video games so I could sleep. I was exhausted. 30 minutes after falling asleep, I heard Ezra crying. The crying escalated, and 5 minutes later, Ross had still not made his way up to comfort him. As it turns out, Ross had made a mistake and had the monitor on the wrong channel, and couldn't hear the cries from out in the man cave. I did not care about this mistake. I was so completely fuming with rage that I gave him a completely scary verbal beating. I stomped away wondering, "How did I ever marry such a complete ass hole? He is so selfish. He obviously doesn't care about me one bit". Through my cloud of rage, however, I also thought, "Why am I thinking this? This man is my dream guy and our relationship is so amazing most of the time. We are so happy and compatible. Why do I feel this way?". The next morning, through tears, I apologized to my husband and he lovingly forgave me (and also apologized for his mistake).

I don't remember when the light bulb "aha!" moment came, but I started to piece together that this was happening when I was pre-menstrual. I started delicately charting my symptoms on an app called "My Calendar", which I had already used in the past to track fertility for conception AND contraceptive purposes. I concurrently had cut wheat and most dairy from my diet for other issues I was having. I began exercising more regularly at least 3-4 times a week instead of sporadically.  I began to see an improvement and continued with that lifestyle. I communicate to Ross when I start to feel that dark cloud and he knows to have a bit more patience and grace.

Now fast forward to today. Just as a brief interval history, Ezra is currently dealing with RSV bronchiolitis which require nebulizer treatments three times a day. The fear of hospitalization from pneumonia sits on my shoulders (see also: I have irrational anxiety problems... ;) It is March 22nd, and our family has been sick non-stop since the second week in December. I try not to complain and be grateful for our blessings, and have been praising God as often as I can. But today, I was trying to get a sick, fussy, and hyper Ezra down for his nap when I heard Madelyn yelling at me to get her a snack and causing trouble in the next room. I looked down at my gargling baby as he kicked and bucked in my arms and said,

 "That's it! I JUST CAN'T DO IT!".

I set Ez in his crib, knowing well that he would start screaming, and went into that room of mine and shut the door and began to cry. Even as I continued to say "I can't do it", I knew that I had to. Even though I was in a very weak moment, I knew giving up wasn't an option and that somewhere in there I had the strength to get through it. I immediately texted five of my prayer warrior friends and shared my frustration and asked them to pray. Their quick, overwhelming responses immediately lifted me up. I took a deep breath and returned to my boy's room and rocked him to sleep successfully. I took another deep breath. I went downstairs and hugged my daughter; explaining to her that I was really sad that Ezra was sick, and that she is a really good girl. We made cookies together while Ezra slept.

I got onto the "My Calendar" app and discovered I am due to start my period in four days. I looked back as far as October when I started charting and sure enough; I had documented instances of loss of power/frustration...ALWAYS 4-5 days before the start of my cycle. It always lasts 1 day and one day only. And it seems to come on like clock work. If I am aware and anticipate this day, it is usually not a problem. I tend to crave sugar, wheat, and making that glass of wine a little extra full around that time, and if I avoid giving into that temptation then I usually can get through the month without an episode. I was not paying attention and impulsively ate pasta 2 days ago; and had a big glass of wine after a stressful day at work yesterday. It's amazing how it is easier to read and understand your own body when you cut out or limit most of the crap.

Alright...I am off to go on a therapeutic 4-5 mile run now. My kids have been patiently hanging out and now its time to go out and get some fresh air. I know it may seem in some ways that I have overdramatized losing my temper with the kids, but in my heart I know that I don't want to yell at them. Even though she can be a total brat (lets me honest), Maddy IS only 3 and needs more love and compassion than I sometimes think. I also find it extremely important to be the loving wife that Ross needs and deserves. I just want to be my best self and will strive toward anything that can help me accomplish that. Thank you for reading.

Disclaimer: I am pouring out my deepest, darkest moments in this post. I always, ALWAYS maintained safety for both of my children and never lost control enough to harm either of them (thus, why I described walking away so often). I am also not asking for referrals or crying out for help. I have an amazing support system with this and feel comfortable in my treatment plan. I have taken antidepressants in the past, and if it ever came down to it, I would take them again if I felt it were best for me and my family. I am sharing my story in hopes that it may find someone who can identify with what I am going through and not feel alone. I am obviously a little vulnerable about sharing this, but I feel so strongly that God allows us to go through trials so that we can minister to others.