When Baptism Was More Powerful Than My Postpartum Depression

(Photo by Lena Hall Photography)

I had terrible postpartum depression with my second-born and didn’t even know it. I was convinced that if I fixed this particular problem or got that much more sleep, everything would be better. But I was in such a dark place, I couldn’t see how dark it really was.

A Tough Beginning

We had two children within our first two years of marriage, so life was changing very rapidly. When our first was born, every part of motherhood felt new and overwhelming. When our second came along, I thought I could handle it because I had survived postpartum with our first, but I was wrong.

When we came home from the hospital with our daughter, nursing became one of our biggest struggles. Despite being assured by three different lactation consultants that they couldn’t find anything wrong, she was tearing at my flesh and causing me to bleed with every feeding. On top of that, we both had thrush and tried every remedy and antibiotic out there to try and heal. I can still remember the fiery sensation burning through my veins. And finally, she was a very colicky baby. When she finally fell asleep, she would sleep for long stretches, but getting to that point was a nightmare. She cried most of her waking hours.

Each morning, I ended up crying myself, positive that we could not make it through another day. With all our feeding problems, it was impossible to leave the house, and I was in so much pain. When my daughter was only a few weeks old, someone gave us a 6-month outfit. I politely said thanks, but could not imagine living to see the day she would fit into it.

Thankfully, I reached out one more time to a lactation consultant, who suggested she might have an upper lip tie. With a simple laser procedure, she was nursing better and crying less, suggesting her bad latch was causing gas and fussiness. I still had a long road to healing ahead of me, but during that dark time was a bright spot: her Baptism.

The Light of Faith

The Saturday after Christmas — and a little over a month after her birth ­— there we were in the Church renewing our baptismal promises and lighting her candle. I was on a strict anti-candida diet for thrush, barely eating anything and afraid of leaving the house without all our nursing supplies or pain management, but I knew my most important duty as a parent was to get her baptized.

At the moment the water was poured on her head, I heard the Lord say to me in my heart, “There’s a reason she was born. I have a special plan for her.” 

Those words broke through my depressed soul, and for the first time since her birth, I felt hope. Lily would make it into her six-month outfit after all.

The Miracle of Baptism

As I look back on that time from 13 years ago, I see that her Baptism really was a turning point for both of us because the grace of the sacraments is real, actual and effectual. The pouring of water and the anointing with oil are not just nice gestures but enact genuine change.

On that day, Lily’s original sin was washed away, and her soul was flooded with an indwelling of God’s Spirit. The overflow of grace and the renewal of my own Baptism were working in me as well. I needed that inner strength to continue healing, a journey that I write about in my book Baby and Beyond: Overcoming Those Post-Childbirth Woes, published by Sophia Institute Press.

The Gospel of John makes it clear: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God” (John 3:5). Baptism initiates us into God’s family and ushers us on the journey towards our heavenly home. As a parent, this is the most important act I can do for my children!

Do not wait for a perfect moment, for confidence in your parenting or for certain people to be able to attend. It’s not about the party or the pictures. Baptism is about what cannot be captured in a photograph: a change in the soul, a claim for Christ, an outpouring of God’s Spirit.

My Children Are God’s Children, Too

Although I didn’t hear any words from the Lord at any of my other children’s Baptisms, the sacrament leaves an indelible (permanent) and imperceptible mark that I can be confident is working, subtly moving in the deeper spiritual levels of the soul.

For example, when our youngest had an accident as a toddler and I was on my way to the hospital, begging God for his life, I pleaded, “Please God, this is my son! Please don’t let anything happen to my son.” And in my heart, in the car, I heard, “He’s my son, too.” My son is God’s son because he has been baptized into Christ’s family, created by God and loved by him every minute. And I knew whatever happened — whatever the outcome was — God loved him more than I did. Through what felt like a miraculous anointing, our son is completely fine, and I thank God every single day for his intervention in the holy oil that saves, heals and sends us on mission.

Some people think they should wait for Baptism until their child is old enough to make the decision on their own. In the Catholic Church, we are instructed to baptize our children as soon as possible! They can grow up and choose to pray, to follow God, to remain in the Church, but what kind of parent would I be if I withheld the very divine life of God from entering their souls? I nourish them with milk and cradle them to sleep, so why would I deny them the nourishment of grace? I gave them life and brought them into this world, so shouldn’t I give them a life directed towards the blessed eternal life of Heaven?

Even when I was in my darkest moment, battling postpartum depression and a host of physical and mental struggles, I knew Baptism was a non-negotiable, but I had no idea how much Baptism would put me on a path to deeper healing (physically, mentally and spiritually). So now, every year on December 29, when we light Lily’s baptismal candle and renew our promises to God, I am reminded of that morning when love and light broke through my darkness and showed me that Baptism was more powerful than my postpartum depression.