I Had Dark Thoughts About My Babies

In August of 2023, prominent New York City cancer doctor Dr. Krystal Cascetta walked into her baby's room at 7 a.m., shot her baby, and then killed herself. Before this, Massachusetts mother Lindsay Clancy allegedly strangled her three small children to death and then jumped out of a window.

I believe that both women were suffering from postpartum psychosis and postpartum depression.

In late 2019, after giving birth to my first child, my daughter Sophia, I wept uncontrollably every day and had obsessive thoughts that something was going to hurt her. Backing out of my driveway each morning was a traumatic experience. I imagined that a car would slam into us and badly hurt my baby—or worse.

When Sophia slept, I checked on her multiple times throughout the night to make sure she was still breathing. I felt inadequate for not being able to breastfeed her and for holding her on my lap while I worked on my computer.

When Sophia was five months old, the COVID-19 lockdown hit Los Angeles and my symptoms got worse. At one point, while she was playing in the living room, I went into her closet, cried, and screamed at the top of my lungs. When my husband Daniel came in to help me, my whole body was shaking.

"I think you have postpartum depression," he told me, while hugging me and wiping away my tears.

This was something I hadn't considered, but once I looked up the symptoms, everything clicked. I got help from a therapist. I spent more time outside and slept more, and my PPD symptoms improved to the point where I was functional again.

Two years later, when I gave birth to my second daughter, Ella, the PPD came back, and this time, it was much more intense. I only took five days off for maternity leave, since I was self-employed and couldn't afford to take off more time than that.

Between working full-time and caring for Ella, I was sleeping less than five hours a night. I didn't have time to nap; Ella would only nap for about an hour a day, and during that time I was either working or cleaning the house. I downed boxes of Raisinets and cups of coffee during the day and drank beer at night to calm down. I gave up exercising. I went on and off antidepressants.

Even though I sent Ella to daycare with Sophia when she was three months old, the pressure of having an infant and toddler was overwhelming in every single way: Emotionally, mentally, and physically.

And again, I was scared of Ella and Sophia getting hurt. I constantly thought about it; I was afraid my whole world was going to come crashing down at any moment.

Nearly a year after giving birth, I felt so overwhelmed that I was having suicidal thoughts. I didn't really want to die; I was just so tired that I needed a rest. But as someone who had suicidal thoughts as a teenager, I knew I needed to make a change.

With my husband's encouragement, I found a therapist and started taking better care of myself. I exercised, got more sleep, and paid for extra childcare when I needed it.

Twenty months after my second birth, I finally feel like I'm myself again. And while I would love to have more children, my first two experiences with PPD were so traumatizing that I'm taking more time to try for my third child.

I'm in a PPD support group on WhatsApp, and I've talked to many mothers who have also gone through it. According to a study on the NIH, PPD occurs in around 6.5 percent to 20 percent of women, but "as many as half of PPD in new mothers" will go undiagnosed because women don't want to talk about it with their close family members.

I'd bet that many women don't recognize they have PPD, instead attributing their bad mood to a lack of sleep or self-care. They might think it's normal to cry or have anxiety even several months after giving birth. I certainly did.

When I heard about Dr. Krystal Cascetta and Lindsay Clancy, I did not find it hard to imagine the kind of pain they were in, because to a certain extent, I'd been there.

I never thought about hurting my children, and I couldn't sympathize with them because they committed violent and horrendous acts. They were likely so mentally ill at that point that they couldn't see any other way to cope, to get some peace, and their poor children paid the price.

But we cannot simply put these tragic stories into black-and-white terms, calling the mothers crazy or ignoring the fact that they had PPD. If we do that, other mothers may not get the help they need and end up harming their children as well.

Our culture puts pressure on us to always look put together on the outside—be a top-performer in your field like Cascetta or the picture-perfect mom like Clancy was—even if we are suffering greatly in silence.

We are more isolated than we've ever been in this post-pandemic, social media-centric world. We would rather hurt others or ourselves rather than own up to the fact that we are struggling. It's sickening.

Mothers must talk about their PPD. As a society, we need to destigmatize it. We need to say that it's OK to have dark thoughts and to feel sad after having a child and not being able to bond or connect with your baby. It's not shameful.

I'm optimistic about Zuranolone, the first FDA-approved PPD pill. But it takes more than a pill to make a mother feel better.

When I was at my lowest point, a psychiatrist met with me for 10 minutes on Zoom and put me on an antidepressant. He didn't follow up for three months. During that time, the drug negatively affected me, but I had the wherewithal to go off of it and seek out help from another doctor.

Some mothers wouldn't know to do that. Close psychiatric care is necessary when administering a pill like this, especially one that's new to the market.

Mothers need their family, friends, therapists, and communities to support them. They need subsidized childcare and paid maternity leave so they have time to focus on their baby without the pressure of going back to work. And they need to feel like they can be open about their suffering.

For the sake of women, for the sake of children, and for the sake of our society, we need to open up an honest dialogue about PPD and not be afraid to tackle it head on.

Kylie Ora Lobell is the President of KOL Digital Marketing. She has previously written for the Washington Post, New York Magazine, Los Angeles Times, and LA Magazine.

All views expressed in this article are the author's own.

Do you have a unique experience or personal story to share? Email the My Turn team at myturn@newsweek.com