Trojan Horse Lasagna

Last night I attended one of my favorite events of the year in my neighborhood, a lasagna night at our local favorite 3rd place, Post House Inn for a fundraiser for Postpartum Depression Support Charleston. I was able to tell my story of PPD at the event, which felt like a cathartic healing of that shell of a person I was just 7 years ago. Leading up to the event, my friend Court and I discussed with the organizer on how the tone of the evening will be depending on how the election went. To me, it was a non issue. Women supporting women has been a fact of life since the dawn of time and that will not change no matter who is in office. The work never stops to create a bigger and brighter future for the ones coming behind us. There’s a part of me that is MORE hopeful for my kids future based on who is fired up right now vs. who is relaxing into the ease of victory. (I’m not saying this is a good thing but a perspective when faced with the facts at hand that has been helpful to me.)

I’d love to share the speech I gave last night in the hopes that you yourself could feel seen in it or share it with someone that could use a reminder that changing the world really can be as simple as 5 words or a pan of lasagna.

Every person that bravely shares their postpartum experience or supports an organization such as this one, as you all have done tonight, is really creating a brighter future for mothers. A future where there’s  a lot less shame, less stigma, and less isolation in the postpartum journey, and much more access to support, resources, and education. So thank you so much for your time this evening, and thank you, Elaine, for having me.

I’ve been such a fan of this organization for years, and it really feels like paying it forward to that version of myself who was so deeply struggling after my first child to be able to speak to you all tonight. I was thinking a lot about what I would have gotten out of a night like this before and after having postpartum depression.

Before having postpartum depression, I would have thought that a pan of lasagna is a lovely gesture—something that makes you feel good, something sweet and kind. But it wasn’t until after having postpartum depression that I saw truly what a magical, life-changing gift something so simple can be. For me, my pan of lasagna was five simple words spoken to me by my daughter’s nanny: “I’ve felt like you before.”

Like many of the stories we hear around postpartum depression, I was completely blindsided by it. I wouldn’t have listened to any data. I wouldn’t have heard myself in stories about postpartum depression. I thought I was so unique, so isolated—the most “wrong for motherhood” woman that has ever existed.

I regretted not getting some sort of genetic testing to make sure I had a mothering gene in my body. I regretted not expressing to my husband more how unprepared I was for this. I wondered, how did I get my maternal cues so wrong? How did I so royally drop the ball on seeing how bad of a mother I was going to be? How could I have thought it would just come naturally?? I daydreamed about running away, knowing that even though there’d be some pain for my family at the beginning, in the long run, we’d all be better for it. I’d start over, knowing that I should never attempt motherhood again, and everyone would be better for it.

Then one day, our nanny said calmly and quietly, without any judgment, without any context, “I felt like you before.” Looking back, she had seen through what I thought was such a clever disguise of running in and out of the house, saying I was going to work, saying I had to do this, forgetting something in my room, saying I would be in my room on a work call. It wasn’t a huge house. I’m sure a giveaway would have been that no noise was coming from my room.

I was doing everything I could to build walls around me so no one could see what a fraud I was. She broke down all those walls with five simple words: “I felt like you before.” The floodgates opened. I felt seen, and I was so grateful for it. Because she was able to share with me that she knew what I was going through, I was able to share it with my husband, with my doctor, with my family and friends. I was able to make a treatment plan, I was able to understand what I was going through, and to see the true medical condition for what it was.

For me, my postpartum depression journey was one of empowerment. It set a catalyst for the rest of my life, knowing that if I can overcome this, I can overcome anything. It empowered me to see that I was exactly the mother I wanted to be—one that can model to my kids that it’s not just okay, but powerful, to ask for help. It’s powerful to say when you’re in over your head. It’s powerful to rely on the trust of five little words or a tray of lasagna given when you least expect it.

Now for the reason we’ve all been called together for tonight, and that is to support this beautiful cause of postpartum depression support Charleston.

With a monthly or one time donation- You can be the difference-maker between someone whose postpartum journey is one that leaves a blemish on their life, or one of empowerment, blazing a better trail for mothers that come after them. It can be a story of showing women how powerful we and our tribes truly are. How no matter how much the world changes- one thing remains the same. Women support women.  Every month, you could be helping reach new mothers that you may never meet, or ones that you might meet in the most unexpected ways—your future doctors, your future lawmakers, the future teachers of our children, women who were given a second chance through the beautiful Trojan horse that is lasagna.

It’s creating a brighter future for the people we so desperately need in our world right now: empowered mothers.

Much love,

Victoria