This first person is the experience of Joana Valamootoo, originally from Mauricio and now lives in Regina. For more information about CBC’s first person stories, see Frequently asked questions. This story is part of Welcome to Canada, a series of CBC news about immigration told through the eyes of the people who have experienced it.
There was a chill in the air on autumn day when I finally found the courage to ask my husband to take me to the emergency room. All week, the constant dark and intrusive thoughts had persecuted me, telling me to end my life and hurt my baby, while my whole body felt intense physical pain.
As a new mother in a new country, it was difficult to ask for help. I asked me: “What happens if they decide to take my baby?
He had grown up in Mauricio, where to admit mental health struggles came with great stigma. I had never heard of postpartum depression and I didn’t know that it was what I was experiencing.
For weeks, I had been secretly all my internal thoughts. It was like living a double life in which I had to pretend my happiness and satisfaction like a new mother when she was close to other people. But every night, intrusive thoughts sold and pursue my existence.
It is not a cheerful childbirth experience
When I first discovered that I was pregnant about a year earlier, I was happy beyond words and felt that I was going to be a good mother.
That feeling lasted until the moment when my partner and I walked hand in hand through the empty corridor in the early hospital in the morning, hoping to meet our little person.
After my son was born and brought me, I hoped to feel love and emotion, the joy of a new mother. Instead, I didn’t feel anything, just empty.
My son was colic, and with my husband he was working for long hours, I felt alone. I was operating with little or nothing to sleep. I began to feel that there was something at home, a non -human presence that was looking at me, and convinced me that something evil came with my son when he was born.
Then, one day, two months after his birth, I found myself changing my son’s diaper when he looked up and smiled at me.
I felt immense joy and sadness at the same time. How could I not feel love for that little angel? At that moment, I felt the emotional connection that I had longed for, and said: “He is my baby. The baby he was singing every day when I was in my belly, the baby I had been waiting for to meet.”
Even so, the dark fog of intrusive thoughts did not rise. Every day, I led my son to walk long to clarify my mind, but those thoughts continued to torment me for about eight months after their birth.
That was the point that I finally told my husband that I needed help. He hadn’t heard of postpartum depression either and had not understood why he was crying so much. Like me, I was afraid that our son loves us. But after having seen the intensity of my postpartum psychosis, he agreed that we needed help.
When we went to see the doctor in the emergency room that day, I finally obtained the courage to express everything in my mind.
The tears gathered in my eyes while talking, but I felt free.
With the warmer eyes, the doctor took my hand in his and said in a low voice: “It’s not your fault. You are experiencing postpartum depression and we will help you.”
He explained to my husband that I have postpartum depression and that the pain I was experiencing was also a symptom of depression. Later I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, a health condition that can also cause pain and fatigue.
I was prescribed advice, as well as medications to help me deal with my mental disorder and fibromyalgia.
After so many months of living with fear and pain, he was receiving the help he needed. I finally felt the joy of life again. I realized that if it had only been strong enough to ask for help, I would not have suffered for months living with the paralyzing effect of depression. I want other new mothers who can be fighting to know what I faced, so that they know they are not alone, and that they can also find help.
When my husband and I welcomed our second child to the world, I felt instant love for her. This time, I understood what many other mothers have said they felt after giving birth.
Knowing that kind doctor got me the help I needed to claim my life. Ten years later, I still live with a chronic health condition and mental health challenges, but now I look at my children and I feel a wave of protection, the love I felt for the first time when I changed my son’s diaper and I saw him smiling.
I am here every day not only for me, but for them.
If you or someone you know are fighting, this is where to get help:
Do you have a convincing personal story that can provide understanding or help others? We want to know about you. Send an email to SASK-FIRST-PONSON-GRP@CBC.CA for more information.
