The Creative Mama » inspiring art, encouraging women

Journey Through the Darkness

It snuck up on me. Again. We were supposed to head home with our precious bundle, our first baby girl, instead we were staring at the bright glow in the corner of the room. She needed at least 24 hours under the lights and the last thing I expected was to feel it. You know, that feeling, the beginnings of the darkness.

My husband had brought our two boys to the hospital so we could all spend the day together. There were five of us in that tiny recovery room and I began to feel incredibly claustrophobic. Breastfeeding was a struggle, people were constantly in and out, and my sweet baby was stuck in a blue tanning bed. I began to feel hungry and thought it would be nice to get out of the room for a bit so I decided to take the boys down to the cafeteria.

Not even ten minutes into our little journey did I begin to panic. In the elevator the boys argued about who would push the button. In the cafeteria they ran around like maniacs. In the parking lot as we quickly ran to the car, my three-year-old refused to obey. My heart raced and my body hurt. Hurt from the quick delivery and hurt from the deepest part of me. That aching center that knows what comes next.

I began to cry. Right there in the hallway. Big, sad, crocodile tears. Here I was just days post-partum, walking was a challenge let alone keeping my emotions in check. I cried all the way back to our room and when my sweet husband saw us walk in, he quickly began to encourage me – asking what was wrong, though I imagine he knew.

You see, we’ve been here before. 2008 brought the birth of our second child. Along with that precious boy came one of the hardest times in my life. I would soon learn that not only did PPD plague me, but severe anxiety as well. Days went by in a blur, and though I knew I should be feeling far better than I did, blissful even (like I did after my first baby) the fact was I just plain didn’t. I would sit there on the couch in a daze, brand new life in front of me. A life I longed for and prayed about, yet I felt just incredibly awful – inside and out. Ridden with a crippling anxiety and feeling of utter bleakness, I had so much guilt I could barely stand it.

Blessed with an incredible (and I mean incredible) husband, a house, two cars, healthy boys and an amazing family – I couldn’t see past what was right in front of me. And what was right in front of me was dark and bleak and painful and heavy.

I would finally get the courage to seek help – not only through my doctor and medication but a truly wonderful community of friends. The process was slow, of healing. The journey is slow. The depression subsided some but the anxiety held on. I struggled to see past the day. I struggled to feel normal. My therapist encouraged me that anxiety comes along with PPD quite often, yet I felt odd and out of sorts. A feeling that would become a norm for me.

As the few years would pass, medication was a part of my daily routine. If I skipped it, I felt it. Immediately. We began to talk about having a third baby, but I was nervous. Scared, apprehensive, and yes, anxious. When we had decided to wait a year and prepare for a huge life change (husband quitting his well grounded, safe job and joining me in the photography business) we were surprised with that baby #3. Yes, on his last day of work I saw those two pink lines.

Fear overtook me. When I say overtook me I mean absolutely smothered me. We were now uninsured, and though we had a handful of sessions, weddings, and mentoring booked, we felt felt a bit unemployed. Not only that but pregnancy is not easy on me – horrible morning sickness, pre-term labor, and bed rest were in my history.

As expected I was sick. Sicker than sick. I began to really worry about how I could work (as the main shooter, hubbie was going to be doing all the admin work) being as sick as I was. I lay in bed day after day, struggling to eat and struggling to live. A new aching came over me. It was familiar and scary at the same time. Those are some of the darkest moments of my life. Moments and days and weeks and months I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I saw life through blurred eyes. There was a healthy, growing baby within me and it took everything in me not to wish it away. I would soon learn that there is such a thing as perinatal PPD and I had it, oh did I have it.

Our worries would come true and the business took a plunge. I couldn’t book another session to save my life. Our wonderful plan, our perfect leap of faith teetered on the brink of failure and so soon after we’d made it! I was humiliated. I was worried. I was so incredibly disappointed. We were now facing big, bad decisions. Scary ones. We had our own business in an economy that wouldn’t support it. The photography industry was changing and we couldn’t keep up with all of the others out there offering what we were offering for half the price. We realized the business wouldn’t flourish, with as sick as I was and an impending bout of bed rest. My husband tried to get his job back to no avail. My depression deepend and on a warm day in July we solemnly packed our belongings and moved an hour east to live with my inlaws.

The course of my pregnancy would find us having lost our home, our family vehicle, our insurance, our business and our peace of mind. I hid away. I was embarrassed and struggling daily.

So as the birth of our wee girl approached I prepared. I knew PPD (and anxiety) could be around the corner, especially after such a stressful pregnancy. I hoped beyond hope that I’d avoid it, and thought that having dealt with it before I’d be able to ‘handle it better’.

This wouldn’t be the case however. That day in early January in the hospital cafeteria proved so. As my husband took the boys home that evening and I stared bleakly at the glow of the blue lights covering my sweet girl, my heart just plain sank. I felt what little energy I had slip away and the next morning would ask for an Rx of my precious Prozac again.

Eight weeks have passed and I’d like to say I’m on the mend. Each day is a new struggle, though some are definitely better than others. The events of 2011 changed me, they changed us. This PPD is different than what I experienced in 2008, but it still hurts, and it is still hard.

I find one of the most difficult things is feeling so isolated in this. Though of course I know I’m not, I know so many friends struggling with it right along side me, it is still difficult. Feeling as though I carry this giant sign that says “I have PPD and anxiety” and the weight of that is so heavy. Certain things will trigger me and I have to really work hard at overcoming it.

The birth of spring, just around the corner gives me hope. As weather warms and flowers bloom, I feel the anticipation of good things ahead. I have such wonderful amazing friends and family, a husband that though he doesn’t understand this, does his very best to encourage and uplift me – and for them I am eternally grateful.

Each day is a new gift, and I’m doing my best to see it as that. Walks in the sun with my baby girl, getting out for coffee with a friend, shooting for myself, even taking a long hot shower in the evenings knowing the pitter patter of little feet won’t interrupt. These are helping, healing me. Slowly, but surely.

PPD (and anxiety for me) has become a part of me and a piece of this puzzle that makes me the woman I am today. I hope that someday in the future I can use the difficulties I’ve faced to help another. If I do, if I can encourage someone else that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, it will all be worth it.

Angie Warren is a writer & photographer living in northern California with her husband, two sons, and brand new baby girl. She shares her heart & images on her own personal blog . a lover of film & digital, Angie shoots with varying mediums and aims to document the big & little moments in her life.

Read more of Angie’s journey here.

About Bree

Bree is the founder and writer of, a recipe site that shares her love of cooking, baking, and entertaining with others. launched in February of 2010 as a way to merge Bree’s love of photography with her love of food, and share both with friends and family. Currently, Bree lives in the suburbs of Washington DC with her husband and 3 children.

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  • Jessica Cudzilo

    With any type of dark season it’s always easier to share about it once it’s in our past. I am in awe of your bravery to share about it while it is still visiting (even though it’s packing it’s bags!). I know these words mean SO much to SO many people. Sending love to you!

  • Michelle Hansen

    Thank you so much for being so brave and sharing your story! I too suffer from anxiety, and probably depression. For me, at first it was not related to pregnancy, just stress, I treated it for a year and it was magically gone, until I had my second daughter just over 4 years ago. It came back with a vengeance and is still something I deal with on a daily basis. It is nice to read these posts, people being so honest and open about it, it certainly helps to see I am not alone. Thank you.

  • Mara

    Thank you for sharing your story! Hugs to you!

  • Sleeping Mom

    So sorry that you experienced this. Wishing you the best from this day forth!

  • staceywoods

    Your story is beautiful and haunting all at the same time. I pray for your peace, sweet friend. Sending big warm hugs your way, and I’ll take a few in return. Much love to you, Ang. xo

  • Morgan

    I just had my second son on the 1st. We had my placenta encapsulated in hopes of warding off PPD. With my first son it surfaced as severe anxiety {mostly about SIDS or his safety} and as intrusive thoughts {some were very disturbing and that inhibited me from telling others about what I was going through}. This time around I’m willing to try anything in order to dodge that bullet! I’ve got the people closet to me on high alert, along with my Physician & the professionals at the WIC office.
    I’m happy that you have the courage to get help and talk about this condition that so many of us suffer from. I pray that each day is better than the last for you and your family.

  • Sharonmckeeman

    Angie I just wanted to share my blog with you in the hopes that it can encourage you. I know what it feels like to have your whole life fall apart. To be in transition and wondering why the floor has fallen out from under you. I have known anxiety and grief, embarrassment and shame and to make art in the midst is how I have made sense of it. I hope for healing and joy in your future. You are not alone.
    xo Sharon

  • Janmary, N Ireland

    I suffered from PPD (we call it PND here) after the birth of our third child.

    It was such a dark place, and I felt such guilt – I had a loving and supportive family, a beautiful healthy baby……so much to be thankful for.

    Thanks for Angie for bravely sharing this. Hope this helps some other mums to reach out and ask for help.

  • Melanie Leighton

    An amazing story, thank you for sharing.

  • Lisa Garibay Turner

    I follow you on IG and also have your FLY guide, and you inspire me daily! We are all struggling these days…what Tisha said below! I also had PPD after the birth of my second child. Thank you so so much for always putting it out there and sharing your story.

  • Tisha Mccuiston

    OMG! Girl I feel like a horrid friend :-( I had no idea you were going through all of that. While I have been blessed to not suffer true PPD I have had perinatal PPD back before that was even a term…my mother died when I was 5 months pregnant with Haley…at the same time my dad was dying…911 happened and Daryl got laid off…with another baby at home already and in a very high risk pregnancy. It has been lovingly termed “the dark days” in our house. We can smile and laugh (a little) about it these days because…we survived it. It totally changed me. I like to think for the better though.
    Sometimes it is plain and simply the things we humans “survive” that make you into the incredible person you are. I always like to say life hands all of us a big crap sandwich from time to time…it is what you chose to do with that big old crap sandwich that matters. It sounds to me like you have a great grasp on it and are doing everything right!
    As far as the business…I have yet to meet a true professional photographer in this biz right now who isn’t feeling the pinch of the cheap photographers and the crash of a career. Professional photography (God I hope I am so wrong on this but I have been in it for a decade now) is going the way of the dinosaurs. Some will survive and be able to make a living but they will be putting in 90+ hours a week and making a fraction of what professionals used to make even 5 years ago. There will always be cheap photographers but they won’t last because you can’t pay your bills with “cheap”…The equipment is changing and everyone now has the ability to take a decent image at a fraction of the cost a decade ago. All I have to do is watch my Facebook feed to see my old clients taking amazing images with their point and shoots even!
    This profession will not be the first nor the last profession to disappear. There should be zero shame for you not being able to pull off photography as a full time career to support your whole family. That is just about impossible these days except for a select few. There was a time I could…but now…not so much. It is still enough for me to add to contribute to the family bills and that makes me happy. I have no doubt I will always be taking pictures but I am already looking at what my next career will be 5 years down the road. I am a long term planner :-)
    Sorry for the book…I just want you to know you aren’t alone and I am just a call away!
    Big old HUG!!!

  • kaley

    angie, you are one of the most amazing people i have ever had the honor of meeting. thank you so much for sharing your heart. xoxo