What It’s Like to Have Prenatal Depression

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What It’s Like to Have Prenatal Depression — Yes, I Said Prenatal

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Sometimes it’s not what you feel, but what you don’t feel.

’ll never forget the day I learned I was pregnant.

The air was heavy, in spite of the fact that the weather was unseasonably cool. The sky was overcast. Afternoon sprinkles kept my family on the boardwalk instead of the beach, and I spent the afternoon drinking beers and downing oysters because, for my family, it was an important day: It was my daughter’s preschool graduation.

Of course, when I got on the kiddie coaster, I didn’t think much of it. I eagerly jumped in line with my little girl, and we rode it — twice — before heading to the swings. I whirled around the Super Himalaya long before I knew a baby was on board.

But around 9 o’clock that night, things changed. Everything changed.

Because after a few Blue Moons I decided to take a pregnancy test… and it came back positive. I learned my little family of 3 would soon be a family of 4.


Sometimes it’s not what you feel, but what you don’t feel.

I’ll never forget the day I learned I was pregnant.

The air was heavy, in spite of the fact that the weather was unseasonably cool. The sky was overcast. Afternoon sprinkles kept my family on the boardwalk instead of the beach, and I spent the afternoon drinking beers and downing oysters because, for my family, it was an important day: It was my daughter’s preschool graduation.

Of course, when I got on the kiddie coaster, I didn’t think much of it. I eagerly jumped in line with my little girl, and we rode it — twice — before heading to the swings. I whirled around the Super Himalaya long before I knew a baby was on board.

But around 9 o’clock that night, things changed. Everything changed.

Because after a few Blue Moons I decided to take a pregnancy test… and it came back positive. I learned my little family of 3 would soon be a family of 4.


My husband and I were elated. My son was planned. We’d been trying to conceive him for more than 12 months, and financially, we were set. Our home was ready.

We knew he would make our hearts and family full — but something wasn’t right. I was happy because I was supposed to be, not because it was what I felt.

Initially, I brushed my concerns aside. The birth of my daughter didn’t go as expected — breastfeeding was a challenge and I had severe postpartum depression (PPD).

It took me more than a year to see the proverbial light. As such, I assumed my apprehension was just that: fear. I couldn’t celebrate because I was afraid.

But my feelings never wavered.

I felt absent. Distant.

My depression wasn’t marked by a wave of emotions, it was marked by a lack of them.

When the doctor couldn’t find a heartbeat at my first prenatal appointment, I wasn’t sad. I was ambivalent.

Even after the heartbeat was found, the situation seemed surreal. When my belly grew, my feelings didn’t. There was no connection between myself and the child I carried. I wasn’t attached. And an overwhelming sense of dread consumed me.

I was sure something could (and would) go wrong.

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[Paymay]

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[Carter Carter]

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