My name is Sara Pollard. I am a mother, wife, nurse, and a friend of God. I am also a survivor of Postpartum Depression and Anxiety. I will be serving as the new facilitator of the website and blog.
I am honored to share my story and recovery from PPD. I pray that my words will be a blessing to you.
I gave birth to my second daughter on November 8. 2000. Little did I know the darkest days of my life would soon follow. I felt great the first few weeks after delivery and marveled at how well I was handling a newborn and a 2 1/2 year old. Then something changed. Five weeks after delivery, I began experiencing a profound fatigue as if I was developing a cold or flu. The fatigue quickly turned to anxiety, panic and a deep, deep sadness. I couldn't sit still. I had to keep moving. I was very irritable and easily angered. Sleep, what I craved the most, eluded me.
My symptoms worsened quickly. I soon became unable to hold or nurse my baby Grace. She scared me...I was convinced I was a bad mother and that if she started crying, I would be unable to comfort her. I called my doctor's office and a familiar and soothing voice answered the phone. My doctor was notified and a prescription was called in. I was given an appointment to see the doctor later that week.
That night my symptoms worsened to the point that I began having suicidal thoughts and had even devised a plan. I couldn't go on like this. I laid in bed and pondered what my family's life would be like without me. I was of no use to them in this condition. I laid there paralyzed with fear, paralyzed to the point that I could not act on the suicidal thoughts. By the grace of God, I made it until morning. God sustained me through the night.
My husband went to work as usual. I did not tell him about my suicidal thoughts. I was scared to tell him. I knew he would be in pain because I was in pain and I wanted to spare him the agony.
I called my doctor's office and told them of the suicidal thoughts I was experiencing. I was told to immediately call my family to come over to ensure my safety. I was given an appointment later that afternoon. I called my close family membrs and within minutes my house was filled with the women of my family. Women sent by God to help ease and carry this burden.
My mom accompanied me to the doctor's office later that afternoon. I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital that evening.
What followed is a miraculous story of healing, a renewal of my faith in our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I learned firsthand that God is good and He is faithful. I learned that even when we walk through the darkness, He is there with us. I learned that in the midst of chaos, He provides peace. Most importanly, I learned that God loved me despite my faults, fears and failures.
As I look back on those dark days, the saddest of my life, I see God's hand on every page of the story. Despite the pain, I would not change a single word.