Postpartum Memoir

When Brooke Shields welcomed her newborn daughter, Rowan Francis Henchy, into the world, something unexpected followed: a crippling depression. Now, for the first time, Brooke talks about the trials, tribulations, and finally the triumphs that occurred before, during, and after the birth of her daughter.

Early motherhood is supposed to be joyous, but for Aaisha Alvi those early days were ruined by terrifying thoughts about her baby and family. Her experience was the antithesis of everything she had ever been told about motherhood, far beyond the trials of breastfeeding or putting her baby to sleep. Aaisha did recover and began to enjoy motherhood. She was thrilled when she fell pregnant again. Sadly, that pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, and the psychosis returned. This time, however, she was blindsided by the unimaginable: voices urged her to stab her daughter and to harm innocent people.

What happened was this: Jenny Slate was a human mammal who sniffed the air every morning hoping to find another person to love who would love her, and in that period there was a deep dark loneliness that she had to face and befriend, and then we are pleased to report that she did fall in love, and in that period she was like chimes, or a flock of clean breaths, and her spine lying flat was the many-colored planks on the xylophone, but also she was rabid with fear of losing this love, because of past injury.

Repeat mothers are assumed to know what to expect during pregnancy, birth, and the postpartum period. Unexpected: A Postpartum Memoir is the moving, raw account of a second-time mother who finds herself struggling for the first time with postpartum depression, anxiety and motherhood itself. Only as a mother of two does Emily find herself unable to ignore the impossible tempo of motherhood. At eight-months postpartum, Emily finds motherhood to be punctuated with unexpected sensations of irritability and feelings of rage all lathered in immobilizing guilt and shame.

Maleah thinks being a stay-at-home mom makes her inferior to other successful women. Plagued with unrelenting thoughts of inadequacy, she struggles to heal from postpartum depression without medication. Her search to save her body, her marriage, and her family leads to an unexpected revelation and the discovery of joy and health hidden within the heart of mothering.

When Catherine Cho and her husband set off from London to introduce their newborn son to family scattered across the United States, she could not have imagined what lay in store. Before the trip’s end, she develops psychosis, a complete break from reality, which causes her to lose all sense of time and place, including what is real and not real. In desperation, her husband admits her to a nearby psychiatric hospital, where she begins the hard work of rebuilding her identity. In this unwaveringly honest, insightful, and often shocking memoir, Catherine reconstructs her sense of self.

A harrowing memoir about a woman's struggle with postpartum depression. Nine days after the birth of her daughter, Amanda was involuntarily admitted to a Toronto psychiatric ward for postpartum depression (PPD). The typical hold-and-release process in Ontario is seventy-two hours. She stayed eighteen days.

Adrienne Martini is an award-winning freelance writer. In her candid memoir Hillbilly Gothic, she offers a glimpse at mental illness from a personal perspective, and reveals how the women of her Appalachian family invariably suffer postpartum depression. After the birth of her first child, Adrienne found herself spiraling toward a breakdown that led to her eventual institutionalization.

Nyna Giles was picking up groceries at the supermarket one day when she looked down and saw the headline on the cover of a tabloid: "Former Bridesmaid of Princess Grace Lives in Homeless Shelter". Nyna was stunned, shocked to see her family’s private ordeal made so public - the woman mentioned on that cover, Carolyn Scott Reybold, was her mother. In this powerful memoir of friendship and motherhood, Nyna Giles uncovers her mother’s past to answer the questions she never knew to ask.

If I could make it to the bridge, the pain would stop. I just had to make it to the bridge, and the hopelessness would end. It became a refrain, running over and over in my head as I raced down the highway. Make it to the bridge, and the pain will end. It's hopeless. Just wanna die. Make it to the bridge.