My Battle with Postpartum Depression & Death
I could see my dead body. but what terrified me more was the haunting thought that Yash and Shay would be okay without me. In a few months, life would go on for them, and I wouldn’t be a part of it.
Death. It’s a word that’s hard to say. Even harder to feel. But there was a moment in my postpartum journey when I felt like I was dying. I’d heard about postpartum depression before—had even thought I understood it—but nothing prepared me for the reality of it.
It all began when Shay was 9 months old. Yash had gone away for a week on a work trip. I needed a change, something to reset from the house chores-work-motherhood routine. So, I packed Shay into the stroller and set out for a walk by the riverfront.
The crisp fall air embraced me as we wandered through the colorful streets, the sound of our footsteps filling the quiet. It was one of those moments when everything just felt right. I remember getting coffee from Starbucks. Shay giggled, and I couldn’t help but smile back. She was so full of life, and in that moment, so was I. The sky seemed like it was painted just for us—darker, deeper, richer. Everything was perfect. I was content. I was happy.
We were about 5 kilometers into our walk, and I found a quiet spot by the water. I sat there with Shay, breathing in the peace, feeling like time had slowed down. I remember calling Yash, my heart bursting with gratitude. I told him how lucky I felt, how blessed I was with my family, my life.
But as we headed back, everything changed. The world felt... heavy. As we got back into the car, a strange unease settled over me, like a storm cloud I couldn’t see but could feel. I tried to shake it off, but it stuck with me, tight and suffocating.
By the time we got home, it was 9 PM. I opened the door and stepped inside, but something was wrong. That feeling I couldn’t explain was creeping closer, heavier now, pressing down on me. I tried to ignore it. I prepared Shay’s meal, but something inside me was off. I felt disconnected from her, even though I was doing the same things I’d always done.
I sat with her, fed her, said, “I love you” over and over—but my words felt like strangers. I couldn’t connect. She felt like a stranger. And I felt like... I didn’t know who I was anymore.
I called Yash, but hearing his voice didn’t help. He was far away, and I couldn’t tell him what I was feeling. I didn’t want to worry him. But my body was on high alert, my heart racing for reasons I couldn’t explain.
I ended up in Shay’s nursery, reading to her in a daze. It didn’t help. I couldn’t escape the feeling that something terrible was coming. I couldn’t push it away. And then, something shifted—something darker. The thought of death, of not being here, crept into my mind.
I wasn’t thinking about hurting anyone. Not Shay. Never Shay. But I couldn’t shake the idea. I was scared. I was scared of myself.
I needed help. I called my best friend Sasha and Mohnish. They heard the panic in my voice immediately. “What’s going on? Talk to me,” she said, her voice the only thing grounding me in that moment.
I could only think of knives, blood, death. I was scared to step out of the room because the kitchen had knives, knives kill. What scared me further was, I wasn’t scared of doing something to me at that moment. I wasn’t scared of doing something with the knives to me. What I was scared of, was Shay. What would she do alone, Yash wasn’t home. What would happen to her.
She asked me to count to ten. I couldn’t. She asked me to name things around me, to spot something yellow. I couldn’t do that either and started crying louder with the feeling of being defeated. It wasn’t about anything in my life that I could control—work, my body, nothing. It was just... this feeling.
And then it hit me. I saw it so clearly. I saw myself not there anymore. I could see my body, lying there - dead and cold. I could see Yash and Shay going on without me. I saw their lives moving forward, and I wasn’t part of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life.
Sasha knew. She didn’t wait for me to explain. “You need to call someone to stay with you,” she urged. “You’re not alone in this.”
It was well past midnight, but I called our close friends Ajinkya and Achal.
"Come pick us." I whispered crying.
They just knew and Ajinkya was there in no time. They knew our house lock code in emergencies, so Ajinkya immediately rushed to my room to check on me, to calm me down. I was rushing through the house to collect Shay's essentials to make sure she has everything for the night, and Ajinkya took over instantly.
"Sit down! I got you! Sit right here." he said while he took over packing up things, picked up Shay and placed her safe in the car seat.
When I got to their house, Achal held me. She just held me. And for the first time in hours, I felt like I could breathe again. She sat with me, explained postpartum depression in a way that made sense, told me how she’d been through it herself, and reminded me that I wasn’t alone.
That night, I started to understand. Depression doesn’t always have a clear reason. It doesn’t knock on your door with an explanation. It just shows up, and you have to face it.
And when Yash came home, I told him everything. He was upset that I hadn’t reached out sooner, but he was thankful I had people around me. And as always, he was my rock, even from miles away.
The days after were easier now that i had more knowledge about postpartum depression. As the days went on, I started to get stronger.
Asking for help isn't a sign of weakness. Depression isn’t something to hide. It doesn’t define who you are, but it will shape how you understand yourself. And through it all, I learned how much you can rely on the people who love you.
And for that, I will forever be grateful. Because no matter how dark it gets, I know I’m never truly alone.
If you're navigating the challenges of postpartum or know someone who is battling postpartum depression, here's a resource that really helped me gain clarity during that time.
Love and light,
xoxo,
Vish.
Commentaires