by Carol-Ann Di Matteo

Created on: January 29, 2009   Last Updated: January 30, 2009

I had to pause when I saw this topic on postpartum depression. In those three seconds that I just froze, I relived my own struggle with postpartum depression. I don't know how my mind managed to squeeze a year or so into those three seconds. I know in reality that year was the longest, darkest period of my life.

I had three kids already. My oldest was six years old, and my twins were sixteen months old. I had gone through both pregnancies like a breeze. After both pregnancies, I was just ecstatic! I was more joyful about life with my babies. I had always been an easygoing, laid back, go-with-the-flow type of person. I already knew I was done having my own kids once I had the twins. I did not want anymore children to raise. Yet, I knew a couple that couldn't have babies, and had so much trouble trying to adopt. So I did the ultimate, I offered to be a surrogate mother for them.

I kept in my mind before and during the pregnancy that this wasn't MY child. I kept that state of mind to not have any attachment to the baby growing inside of me. I knew in my heart that three children were enough for me. I was absolutely sure three kids was enough for me because twins are a handful along with an older child! My heart was into this surrogate pregnancy for that couple who wanted kids so badly in every way possible. It meant the world to me that I could do a good deed for someone else.

When the baby girl was born in August 2004, I spent three days in the hospital. The couple came every day and did their parental duties with their new baby girl. I did not participate at all because I did not want to handle the baby. She was their baby. When we left, they went on with the baby, and my husband brought me back home to my kids.

At home, I treated myself as if I had just gone through a major surgery. I took it easy and rested. My family came by to help with the housechores and the kids. I didn't think twice about that baby girl. However, I noticed that I wasn't joyful. At first, I tried to shake it off like it was nothing, as if it was just some stupid thought in my head. As the days progressed into weeks, I just felt drained. I had never felt anything like this. Later, I had a panic attack. I'd never had one before and I just felt like I suddenly had the wind knocked out of me. I was rushed to the ER, and all the doctors could tell me was that I had the baby blues. Yes, people questioned me, asking me if it was that I grieved for the baby. My family and closest friends knew better,

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