My Postpartum Story
One of the reasons I wrote Not That Kind of Call Girl was to share my experience with postpartum depression. There are a lot more resources for women today experiencing this sometimes devastating condition, which is fantastic (and long overdue), but when I went through it, NO ONE talked about it; most people didn’t understand it, and there weren’t many treatment options. Doctors didn’t routinely screen new moms for it as they do now.
I had our first son at twenty-two and was unprepared for how much my life would change.
I should have predicted it. I was a crappy babysitter as a teen. Little kids scared me to death and sent my anxiety through the roof. They cried for their mommies. They pooped their pants. They refused to go to bed. I couldn’t change a cloth diaper very well (scared of impaling the kid with the safety pin), and every random unidentifiable noise I heard in the house made me jump, convinced that a bad guy was lurking outside or breaking in.
One time, I managed to get one of my charges into his cloth diaper only to get a call the next day from his mother saying I put the leg hole from the plastic diaper covering around her son’s waist, creating a groove around his middle deep enough to hide a green bean. Gah!
I often resorted to calling my Dad to rescue me (help me with the kiddos). And he did. What a trooper.
Some ten years later, our infant son cried morning, noon and night. He bawled so hard the neighbors could hear it through the walls. He’d choke on his tears, gag and throw up. He’d cry while he was nursing—stiffening up a few minutes in, opening his mouth and wailing. Of course, this made me want to gift him to any random stranger passing by. I wanted to love him—knew I was supposed to love him. But I didn’t. The guilt I felt about this was overwhelming.
I tried to hide my fragile state in fear my husband would surmise that he married a woman with the maternal ability of a rock. So, I put on a show. And I was good at it. But, oh, the energy that took!
At about six months old, our son’s colic subsided, and gradually, my postpartum depression lifted. I never did get “my old life back.” Oh, the naivete of a young mom. Mothering is the most demanding job ever and with the highest stakes. It brings joy and stress, love and frustration, protectiveness and pride. And it’s been the most rewarding thing I’ve ever experienced.
For those going through postpartum depression, it gets better, I promise. Much better.
Proof: I had two more kids.
What I want for you that I didn’t have—or, more accurately, didn’t allow, is help. Family or friends will help if you ask. A trusted physician will help if you tell them what you’re going through truthfully. Have a caring clergy member? Tell them! Or a neighbor? Tell them!
PEPS is a national program that connects parents through peer-support groups. They have flexible pricing options based on the ability to pay. Support groups meet online, in person, at community sites and homes.
Parents Helping Parents has a free 24/7 parent support line: 1-800-632-8188. They have other great resources as well.
If you want something local, search online for “parenting support near me.” I tried it and found options galore.
You’ve got this. One step at a time. You don’t have to be perfect. Do the best you can. That’s all you can ask of yourself.
PS: Julia, the protagonist in Not That Kind of Call Girl, goes through a wretched case of postpartum depression. What she goes through and how she responds to it comes from a very personal place.
I NEED YOUR HELP, POR FAVOR
Tell me what you thought about the book, and if you would kindly do me a favor, post your review on every website you can think of, such as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads, TikTok, Instagram, your personal Facebook page, etc. Your vote of confidence in Not That Kind of Call Girl will go a long way in helping to promote the book. ¡Muchas gracias!
PS: Knowing that many of Julia’s experiences were my own, you might wonder how my son turned out. Well, as Mary Poppins might say, he’s practically perfect in every way. I’m not biased or anything!
Author Nova García hails from Laredo, Texas. Her Mexican-American family is a source of great pride. Not That Kind of Call Girl is her first book in the women’s fiction genre.
Nova writes to dispel Latino stereotypes and recognize women for the everyday miracles they make possible with determination, smarts and a generous helping of kick-a** attitude. She knows postpartum depression first-hand and wants women around the world to know they’re not alone.