Massip Trial Hits Nerve With Postpartum Depression Sufferers

Naturally, the subject of the Sheryl Massip murder trial has come up in meetings of the postpartum support group at Mission Hospital Regional Medical Center in Mission Viejo.

Massip is the Anaheim mother who pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity to the charge of killing her 6-week-old son by running over him with the family car. Massip was found guilty Thursday of second-degree murder. At her trial, her attorney claimed that she was suffering from postpartum psychosis, a rare and severe form of the so-called “baby blues.”

“It has come up,” says Virginia Watford, a psychologist who leads the group along with two mothers who serve as co-facilitators. “But most of the moms prefer not to talk about it. It’s very frightening to them. They’re very scared that something similar could happen to them.”

The free group, which meets on Wednesday mornings, includes nine mothers who are adjusting to profound changes in their lives after the birth of a baby, whether it is their first or a subsequent child.

For most, Watford says, the changes have brought on a mild to moderate case of the baby blues, or postpartum adjustment disorder. For others, the problems are severe enough to be considered postpartum depression. One woman who has attended the group was hospitalized after her depression became a psychosis, Watford says.

The problem is almost always temporary, Watford says, although in some cases it may take several years to resolve itself. For a few mothers, the depression that sets in with childbirth can last a lifetime, she says.

The group “gives mothers a chance to talk to other moms who are sharing similar experiences,” Watford says. “They can receive support they might not otherwise receive from their families.”

Too often, new mothers feel alone with their problems and guilty about the negative feelings that come up at a time that is supposed to be happy, Watford says.

Family Life readers who have lived through postpartum depression watched the Massip trial with interest and a sense of deja vu. Of the six women who contacted Family Life, none went so far as to kill their children. But there were times, they say, when they wanted to.

“I’m glad I’m not on that jury,” writes Jane, who lives in Cypress. “What an agonizing decision.”

The baby blues hit Jane 4 years ago after she gave birth to a son. It was “a happy, healthy pregnancy,” she says, and “I took to motherhood extremely well and felt very comfortable with my new baby.

“My husband stayed home with me the first week and I had tremendous support from my parents. . . . But after the first couple of weeks, the phone calls dropped off, and I felt very much alone during the day.

“There were times when my son would not stop crying, when I thought I couldn’t stand it. Nothing I did would satisfy him and I felt very frustrated. One day during his crying I dropped him on the bed, not hard enough to hurt him but not the way I usually placed him on the bed. That incident scared me enough to get a hold of my emotions and make an effort to be with other people and have the family and friend support I needed. I felt embarrassed and ashamed of this depression, so I didn’t really talk about it.”

Now she and her husband are trying to conceive again. “If I do have another child,” she says, “I will certainly be more vocal about my mental state and seek medical attention if necessary.”

Carol, a mother of three who lives in Laguna Hills, felt so ashamed about her feelings that she lied to her doctor after the birth of her second child. Later she asked for help from several doctors, but by the time one of them diagnosed the problem, her postpartum depression had become psychosis.

“It was an easy birth and I felt great from 2 hours after he was born,” she says. He was colicky, and “for 6 months, life was pure hell.” After the colic passed, “I started with severe backaches, headaches, colds, depression, crying, irritability and constantly feeling angry and sick. I thought it was the flu. When my son was 11 months I went to the doctor and told him I was always sick.

“He asked me, ‘How are things at home?’ I lied and said, ‘Everything’s fine.’ ” The doctor kept asking, and Carol kept denying. “I didn’t want him to think I was unstable and couldn’t handle things. If only I had been truthful with him!

“At 1 year I weaned my son and after that it really hit me. Like a sledgehammer. I felt disoriented and shaky. It was becoming difficult to do everyday things.”

There were times, Carol admits, when “I wished my son were dead.”

When her son was 2 years old, Carol gave birth again. “I went home (from the hospital) barely able to walk . . . and gray as death.” The 2-year-old was jealous of the new baby, screaming, crying, throwing things. “I was convinced this was a devil child from hell, and I was going to get rid of him somehow. I would beat him, throw him, scream at him, pull his hair and throw him in his room and refuse to let him out.”

After several doctors and diagnoses, Carol was told she had postpartum psychosis. Doctors prescribed antidepressants and finally, she says, “I feel myself again. I haven’t seen or been myself for 4 years. Only now do I realize what happened and what could have happened. I look back and almost feel faint, thinking of how I almost killed my son with a baseball bat.”

Fortunately, Carol says, the child was not seriously or permanently hurt. She has taken him to a psychologist, however, to prevent him from having lasting emotional problems.

“My little ones are now 4 and 2 and I am only now beginning to enjoy them, play with them, let them be babies and love them,” Carol says. “Every day I look at them and try to make it up to them for what I did.”

For Marcia, who lives in Laguna Beach, postpartum depression manifested itself in a different way. Instead of wanting to hurt her baby, she wanted to kill herself.

“With me it started with a total disbelief that the baby I had in my arms was, in fact, mine,” she says. “I hadn’t seen her born”--the birth was by Caesarean section--”and she could have been switched in the nursery.”

Although Marcia says her husband was supportive, “he couldn’t understand why I’d cry for hours each night trying to sleep. He’d turn over in bed and say angrily, ‘You sound like a broken record.’

“I went back to work after about 3 months. During the day, I was my usual competent, intelligent breadwinner self. At night, I was a sleepless zombie--often suicidal. I wanted to break down completely, but I couldn’t. I was just too good at coping with the business world to appear troubled. I was playing a well-rehearsed part. I had absolutely no one to talk to but myself--no one. Everyone else was ‘happy’ and thought I was too.”

Marcia went to a psychologist, then a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist prescribed an antidepressant, “and that does help reduce the frequency of the severe depressive episodes. But the suicidal despair still comes, although less often than before. I still have postpartum depression, though moments of pleasure do creep into my life between episodes. I feel like a pioneer on an awful journey. Why won’t anyone admit to having been here before?”

Rachel was there, in 1952, and she says the experience still haunts her.

“My depression started while I was still in the hospital, abnormally exhausted and very worried because I felt no emotional response to this little creature,” she says.

“At home it became worse. My husband was too busy to help but still expected good meals and a clean house. I felt overwhelmed by all the things I had to do just to care for the baby.

“I cried incessantly when I was alone with the baby, even screaming in frustration and from fatigue. I at times slammed him down onto his crib and would actually spank him. The only time I ever held him was while giving him a bottle. Often I would daydream of his dying and my finally getting enough rest. I quite literally hated him and thought even then that the line between normal behavior and criminal--abusing or killing him--was a very, very fine one.

“Eventually, everything became a little easier,” Rachel says. “But I had damaged him. Although he is living a normal, productive life, he is much colder emotionally than my second son.”

With both her sons, Rachel hung a large sign reading “This too, shall pass” on the wall over the crib. “Perhaps,” she says, “it gave me just enough perspective to enable me to stay on the right side of that very thin line.”

Auntie (and Uncle) Matters

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Don’t Fight It

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