Postpartum's Gaping Black Hole

I had no idea what was happening to me. I only knew that the worst thing in the world was to be conscious.                              by Denise Blumberg 

My first struggle with Postpartum Depression occurred when I was still living in the United States, with my husband and three kids. I was 33 years old, and had for the previous six years been working on my Ph.D. A mere two weeks after submitting the final draft of my thesis, I gave birth to a healthy, eight-pound baby girl. She was born at home, by choice, and I was surrounded by friends and care-givers.

The period immediately following her birth was exhilarating. My Ph.D. came through during Sukkot, which added to an already festive Yom Tov. Life was normal and happy. I was busy with the kids, tending to my family's needs, the house, going back to aerobics classes – all the normal functions of daily living.

My Battle With Postpartum Depression

Even though I felt myself being sucked into an abyss of darkness, I refused to reach out for help.by Shoshana Kagan

Looking down at my 6-month-old daughter, Rivka, I am filled with immense gratitude for this sweet bundle of joy in my arms. I caress her warm soft skin and gaze gently into her sparkling eyes. Relishing in the simple joys of motherhood I relax in my chair as I feed my child, letting my mind flow.

Suddenly, I sit up with a start and my dreamy smile slowly evaporates. A far off memory has jolted me. In my mind’s eye, I see a younger version of myself holding another six month old little girl. I am catapulted a decade back in time. I’m 24 years old and I’m holding my second child Devorah who is screaming.