Motherhood is often described as one of the most joyful moments of a woman’s life. What is discussed far less is how disorienting the period after childbirth can be. 

In this article, ten Nigerian women talk about their experiences with Postpartum Depression and how it affected their lives. 

1. “I was a constant bomb waiting to go off” — Aaliyah*, 35 

I was constantly angry and irritated at everyone and everything. I was barely eating, struggling to sleep even when the baby was peacefully resting, and I wanted nothing to do with anyone. Whenever my mother-in-law or husband tried to ask what was going on with me, I would immediately snap at them to leave me alone. One month postpartum, and everyone was walking on eggshells around me because I was this constant bomb waiting to go off.

At first, I didn’t think much of my mood. I told myself it was normal for new mothers to want to strangle anyone who so much as spoke near them. It was when I woke up one night to my daughter crying her lungs out, and my immediate thought was choking her with a pillow until she went quiet, that I knew something was really wrong with me. 

The next day, I started looking into therapists. 

2. “My body and mind refused to acknowledge my baby’s existence” — Eloho*, 40

I went from a woman who was excited to be a mother for the second time to someone who became emotionally detached from everything. When I had my first, everything had gone smoothly, so I assumed it would be the same with my second child. I was wrong.

I turned into someone who didn’t care about anyone or anything. When my child cried, I would tune her out completely because I didn’t know how to hold her. It was my elder sister who would remind me that my child needed to be breastfed. Honestly, if I didn’t have anyone in the house with me, I think my baby would have died of starvation. My body and mind refused to acknowledge her existence. 

There were nights I would fantasise about the different ways I could end my life. There were even times I hoped someone would just put me out of my misery. I don’t remember much of what happened during my PPD episodes, but my husband told me about the time I woke up, walked out of the house barefoot, and headed straight towards a busy road. He said if he hadn’t felt the inclination to follow me, I would have definitely been crushed by a speeding trailer.

3. “I was angry at the baby just for existing” — Louise*, 32 

My PPD episodes came with a lot of rage. I was angry all the time. There was no off switch. I was angry at my husband because he didn’t have to change his entire body to push a whole human being out. I was angry at my mother and mother-in-law because I couldn’t stand their presence in the house, even though they were the ones taking turns staying awake to care for the baby. I was angry at the baby just for existing. 

I couldn’t stand to look at my son’s face. I wanted nothing more than to be away from him, and I became mean to anyone who tried to tell me how important it was to bond with the baby. Every time I was desperately trying to sleep, and the baby started crying, I would yell at my husband to get him out of the room. It didn’t take long before everyone in my street started calling me abisinwin (a mother with Postpartum Depression or Psychosis).

It took me almost a year to finally pull myself out of that cloud of rage and begin bonding with my son properly. 

Although people are expecting me to get pregnant again, I’m not planning to. I never want to experience that again. 

4. “I felt completely useless” — Cynthia*, 28 

There were times I would be breastfeeding my baby girl and just burst into tears. I cried almost every day. I could barely look at my child without feeling like she had been sent to destroy my life and turn me into a hollow shell. My family did their best to comfort me, but the tears wouldn’t stop. There were times the baby would cry, and I would cry right along with her because I felt completely useless. This went on for months until my friend, a psychotherapist, visited and made sure I got the medical help I needed, and I will be forever grateful to her.

5. “I carried my crying son and thought of flinging him” — Adeyinka*, 31

I don’t remember a lot from having PPD because of how traumatic it was for me. I was irritated and snappish. Someone in the house would say something that didn’t mean harm, and I would get the nearest item beside me to throw at them because of how much they were grating my nerves. Over the course of my episodes, I broke many plates and cups, and at one point, a shard of glass cut my sister. Everybody kept saying I needed help, but I’ve always been too stubborn to ask for aid. I kept ignoring everyone’s pleas to talk to my doctor about how I was feeling until the day I carried my crying son and considered flinging him across the room. It scared me a lot, so I immediately called my doctor. Thank God she directed me to a therapist instead of reporting me to the police. 

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6. “I was just overall disgusted with myself” — Ella*, 38

I didn’t want to be around my twin babies because every time I saw them, I felt only anger. I hated holding them and would just hand them over to our housemaid. There were times I would leave the house just because I didn’t want to be around them. Anytime someone congratulated me for being an Iya Ibeji (mother of twins), I always felt like slapping them because I didn’t know what was so exciting about having children that turned me into a shell of myself. 

I was sleeping for only four hours a day, I had to force myself to eat food because of the babies, and I was just overall disgusted with myself. Whenever new mothers like me talked about how great it was to be mothers, I always felt envious because, unlike them, I wasn’t feeling great. I felt like a ghost. 

7. “I could barely form a connection with my daughter” — Tiwalola*, 39 

At the time, I didn’t realise what it was. I just knew that something I couldn’t define was making me think terrible things about myself, like how useless I was, how I didn’t deserve to be a mother, and how my daughter would grow up to hate me because of what an awful person I was. These thoughts crippled me for months. 

I would wake up and not want to get out of bed. My mum sometimes had to drag me to the bathroom to bathe me because I simply wouldn’t do it myself. She would even force-feed me because I found eating exhausting. It was a dark period because I could barely form a connection with my daughter, and sometimes, I would just stare blankly while she cried, until my husband or mother came to snap me out of it.

8. “I didn’t see what there was to be happy about” — Amanda*, 44 

After four years of trying, my husband and I finally had a child, and everyone kept saying things like “You gave your husband a son, you should be happy,” but honestly, I didn’t see what there was to be happy about. The delivery was one of the most painful experiences of my life, and afterwards, I didn’t want to see my son because of how detached I felt from him. My aunt assured me it would only be like that for a few days and that after that, my son would mean everything to me. Weeks passed, and I still didn’t feel connected to him. I forced myself to be the new mother everyone expected me to be. Did I like my son then? No. Did I want to be around him? Absolutely not. I wanted to run away, but did I let anyone know that? No. Sometimes I would wake up to him crying, and all I could think as I held him was that he deserved a better mother, because his actual mother felt no warmth or affection for him at all.

9. “Everyone was excited, but I didn’t know what to feel” — Morenikeji*, 40 

I couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening to me. At the time, I was convinced that spending 24 hours in labour had sucked the life right out of me. Everyone in my life knows that the first month after was a deeply dark period. I didn’t want to be near the baby at all. The only time I could tolerate having him close was when it was time to feed him. My husband had to take care of everything related to the baby because I was completely hollow.

I also did my best to isolate myself from my friends and family. During the naming ceremony, I avoided every single person who approached me to offer congratulations and instead directed them to my husband. I refused to talk to anyone and preferred to lie in my room, doing nothing. I had suicidal thoughts. It wasn’t a good time in my life, but I’m glad I had a stubborn support system that refused to give up on me. 

10. “It felt like my soul had left me in the labour room” — Chinaza*, 38 

After having my child, it felt like my soul had left me in the labour room. I wanted to be happy about finally becoming a girl mom, as I had always hoped, but when they handed my daughter to me, all I felt was emptiness. That emptiness followed me home, and even though my entire family came over to help with the baby, I felt nothing, and it scared me deeply. Sometimes I would wake up and watch my daughter sleep, hoping that something in my heart would stir for her, but nothing ever did. Because of this, I would cry whenever I was alone. 

Whenever my husband tried to have a conversation, I would pretend to be tired. Anytime my friends came over to see the baby, I would tell them I was too exhausted for company and leave them with her. It got to the point where I was crying myself to sleep every night. I kept asking myself what was wrong with me and why I was feeling the way I was. It didn’t make sense.

It was only after doing my own research that I found out what PPD really was, and knowing that other women had felt the same way brought me some comfort. It gave me the courage to open up to my husband, who was incredibly understanding, and with his help, I was able to navigate that emptiness one day at a time until I finally felt like myself again.

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