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Bez Idakula’s wife, Ese Walter-Ark reveal their experiences with postpartum depression

Last week, blogger Emech Achanga opened up on the post partum depression she battled after child birth…now two of other public figures have spoken on it.

Bolatito Ladoja-Idakula who is the wife of singer Bez Idakula, has revealed how she struggled with postpartum depression after the birth of their son, Joshua.

Bolatito and Bez Idakula got married in 2014, lost a baby girl who died 24 hours after she was born on March 2nd 2015.

Bolatito says even after losing their daughter and giving birth to Joshua a year later, she wasn’t as happy as she expected to be.

She shared her own experience while reacting to writer, Ese Walter-Ark’s post on postpartum depression.

Here is what Bolatito wrote on Instagram below…

See excerpts from what Bolatito said after given birth to her son. She talked about how God guided her from the moment she found out she was pregnant till she delivered their child.

On Sept 7th 2015, I had a miscarriage. I was 10 weeks pregnant.  Ironically, this happened on the day I got baptised. It was during church service and I spent a significant amount of the service in the bathroom; Bleeding.  I still went ahead with my baptism because it became so clear to me that I needed that baptism. I needed the cleansing. I needed to be refreshed and to start anew and as I stepped in that pool of water, I felt God so strongly. I knew I was walking into a new beginning and everything prior was being washed away.

I was not going to try to do what only he can do. And he showed himself to truly be Yahweh because in October 2015, I got pregnant again and in July 2016, a year after I shared my first testimony, I shared another testimony because he blessed us with a beautiful son.

When I found out I was pregnant again, I was in awe at how quickly God showed up because I truly never expected it. I thought it’ll take some time and that was fine with me. I wasn’t in any particular rush to get pregnant again but God does things in ways I can’t even imagine and he decided it was time. Who am I to argue? I was so ecstatic. I was at a point in my life where I was waking up at 3am every morning, spending time with God and growing in relationship with the Holy Spirit and everything about my pregnancy was spirit-led (it sounds like cliché christianese but it really is the truth).

Recall that early this year, popular blogger, Emeh Achanga of MisspetiteNigeria revealed her first experience with postpartum depression. According to her ‘my first experience with depression started after having a c-section, I hated myself. I was crying non-stop and worried about blogging. Confined to a hospital bed and unable to eat or drink water for the first 3 days was hell for me. The, I remember not feeling attached to my baby and I hated when anyone touched or came close to her. I wasn’t allowed to hold her for long as I was still in pain. So anytime she cried in hunger, the nurses or her father’s mum would brig her to me to breastfeed. Oh the pain was intense ! Once i was done, I would want to cuddle her a bit to relieve the pain and she would be snatched away from me (for my own good)’ she said..

Also, in an open post which she shared on her Facebook page, writer, Ese Walter-Ark, revealed her battle with postpartum depression. Ese narrated how she abandoned her 9 months 3 weeks old baby with her mother in Abuja and ran down to Lagos, in November 2015, when she became so depresed after childbirth. She says the depression was so heavy that a certain day, she thought of smashing her baby on the wall. Read below

They called me a bad mother Writer, Ese Walter-Ark, shares her shocking battle with postpartum depression, reveals she abandoned her baby for sometime and even thought of smashing him on the wall?

After Boobman was born I struggled to find my Happy. At the same time, I had to act happy because who isn’t happy after birthing a child?

I carried on everyday reminding myself that as a mother my happiness came second. I needed to be there for my child. I needed to love him, care for him, take care of him etc.

As he grew, I felt myself sink deeper into the hole that sat in my core. And I couldn’t express this. I remember the day the health visitor came to check on us. She asked, “have you had any unpleasant thoughts concerning your baby?”

“No, I have been so happy since he arrived.” I lied.

She asked a few more questions, checked his height, head size, weight, and was done.

As she left, I wondered if I should call her back and tell her about that night he wouldn’t sleep and I needed sleep, and as I breastfed him, I imagined what would happen if I threw him against the wall. Perhaps I’d be free from this little bondage that seemed to be running my life. But I didn’t. I feared they would think me crazy. Some who knew me already thought me crazy. Sigh. I let her go. I returned to getting by one day at a time.

The day he turned 6 months, I decided I was going to run away. Because he was breastfeeding and I didn’t have any money I stuck around. At 9 months and three weeks, I had saved a little money so I weaned him one Friday, cold turkey style. Nobody knew I was weaning him. By the next day, he had forgotten breast. I was left with swollen painful breasts but I felt it was worth it because finally nothing was tying him to me.

On the 1st of November 2015, a week before he turned 10 months, I took him to my mum’s along with a new nanny I had gotten a week earlier. I told my mum I had a spa date and would be back for him in 2 hours.

As I left the house, I headed to the airport, bought a one way ticket to Lagos and left Abuja, Boobman, and motherhood behind. I sent text messages to my family that I was gone and not coming back.

They tried to reach me by email. I was told that I abandoned my child and I was a bad mother. It was true. They were right. I had already concluded to myself that I was a bad mother long before anyone else told me so. I wasn’t going to mother, I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to feel I mattered too. I wanted to feel, period.

I didn’t want to hurt my baby. I wasn’t sure how long I would have lasted before I snapped. Leaving was the only option. I wasn’t going to come back.

A few months later we were reunited. I was told to apologize to him for leaving him. What they didn’t know was for the months I planned my leaving, he was aware. I told him every time I breastfed him that I was sorry I had to go away without him. I told him the times I was sad. I told him the times I felt lost and empty. And the night before that November 1st, I shed a tear as I told him I was leaving the next day.

I still remember my final thought before I left. I said to myself, “if I die now, this child will survive and even thrive.” At that, my mind made itself up.

I know we like to think a mother should sacrifice herself for her babies but sometimes mother wants to run away and leave everything behind. This usually starts and ends as a thought or wishful thinking for most new mothers. For me, it was the only way to live. So I took the leap.

#diaryoftheboobmum #badmother #breakingthecord #runningfrommothering#unusualmothering #motherdoesntknowbest #motherstruggles

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