Hi, my name is Sasha Nyemadye Hughes; I’m a Liberian woman, wife, mother, and Lifestyle Influencer. If you’re reading this, you probably want to know more about the topic or at least read my story. I thank you for taking the time to read about how I went crazy, or at least I thought I did. Thank goodness for doctors and therapists.
As a busy mom of three beautiful humans, I pride myself on being the mom who can do it all!
The keyword “Pride” it’s a tricky little thing, you see. This pride has been handed down from generation to generation. The notion that we should be able to cook, clean, work, cater to our partners and children, and offer services to everyone but ourselves is a dangerous one. It’s what landed me a seven-day inpatient hospital stay.As an influencer, I have a community of over 20,000 beautiful people and encourage anyone to take what they can from my journey. My community also knows me as the mom who dances in the kitchen on Fridays for some weekend motivation.
We were recently blessed with our beautiful Baby girl in September of 2022. Before her birth, I suffered a miscarriage in November of 2021. The pain and anger I experienced during that time were so surreal. Going through surgery and wondering what our baby could have been was a harsh and sad reality I wouldn’t wish any mother to experience, but sadly, it happens every day. In January of 2022, when I found out I was pregnant AGAIN, I brought him the test after the kids went to bed, and we both just sat there in the dark in shock.
I laid on his chest and said, “here we go again, babe.” We were unsure how to feel; we were scared, nervous, sad, and happy.
All of the emotions came flooding in like waves crashing against an already fragile wall, but we remained hopeful. We made our doctor’s appointments and saw a specialist every two months to ensure our baby was thriving.
I think the best part of the whole pregnancy was her due date, it was scheduled for his 40th birthday; but she had other plans and arrived a few days earlier. After giving birth I began to have feelings of sadness, dread, and happiness swirling around in my already fragile postpartum body; only this time around I couldn’t have foreseen what was to come.
At the time, his job was fairly new, so he only took two weeks off. We didn’t plan well, and it showed. I thought I would wake up at night so he could sleep and be well rested for work and since I worked from home I could rest throughout the day; epic fail!. He was so busy that I didn’t feel he had the capacity to even deal with home life so I did what most wives do and stayed silent.
Now, I was running on almost 1-3 hours of sleep at night, picking up kids from school with a screaming newborn, going to school games and events for both kids, working from home, cooking, cleaning, and influencing.
I mean, I just got lost in it all. My first spiral was addiction. I became addicted to sugar to keep me going. I would buy cookies, candy, and whatever I could get my hands on to eat or drink. I had a daily overwhelming sadness I couldn’t shake. One day I even asked myself, “where do I fit in?”
I was so lost. Suddenly six-weeks turned into four-months of practically erasing myself to keep my family going. I was a functioning shell of a person. Most days I felt like I was standing outside of my body watching it fade. Some days it was hard to even get out of bed. Oh, did I mention I was breastfeeding as well? Some people may ask, where was your support system? They were there, I just made them think I had it all together so there wasn’t much support.
I allowed my husband to do the bare minimum and my family to think I could handle it. I couldn’t.
I began hallucinating and feeling like someone was always after me. I started seeing my daughter walking down the stairs at 3 months – which is impossible. As things got progressively worse, what do you think I did? SUPPRESSED until I couldn’t any longer.
I was at the point of no return. I wondered what it would be like to not exist anymore.
Would anyone care?
How could I even think they way?
It hurt so much that I felt so incredibly invisible.
The resentment towards my husband was massive, I couldn’t stand the sight of him some days, I resented that my mom couldn’t help as much because of her schedule and I was scared to trust anyone else with my baby just yet. My hallucinations got so bad that I couldn’t stay in my own house for fear of being harmed by something or someone that wasn’t there. I was losing my mind, or so I thought.
February 2023 I was admitted to the hospital for seven days.
I remember sitting in the waiting room texting my best friend, and her showing up within minutes of me hitting send – just call her speed racer. She stayed with me through the assessment and admission process. She took my notes of all of the kid’s appointments and activities along with some of my belongings and phone to my husband and broke the news to him that I wouldn’t be returning home for some time.
It was the best thing that could have happened to me. I slept and ate well for seven days.I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis.
While in the hospital, I met women going through the same thing I was. I met other women who had lived the life I would have lived had I not reached out for help. I say ALL that to say, TAKE THE HELP.
Pregnancy is hard, postpartum depression is harder; neglecting yourself is the worst thing you can do.
If you are going though this please reach out for help. You are loved, you belong here and it will get better. It’s only been a couple of weeks since leaving the hospital, but I’m feeling better. I’m now on a regimen and going back to therapy soon. I’m already taking better care of myself and getting more sleep than ever! I love it here! Thank you for reading my story.
