Postpartum's Gaping Black Hole

I had no idea what was happening to me. I only knew that the worst thing in the world was to be conscious.                                              

by Denise Blumberg

My first struggle with Postpartum Depression occurred when I was still living in the United States, with my husband and three kids. I was 33 years old, and had for the previous six years been working on my Ph.D. A mere two weeks after submitting the final draft of my thesis, I gave birth to a healthy, eight-pound baby girl. She was born at home, by choice, and I was surrounded by friends and care-givers.
The period immediately following her birth was exhilarating. My Ph.D. came through during Sukkot, which added to an already festive Yom Tov. Life was normal and happy. I was busy with the kids, tending to my family's needs, the house, going back to aerobics classes – all the normal functions of daily living.

Spider Surprises & Spiritual Attacks

The other day I called my mom to see if she wanted to join me for lunch. She agreed to pick me up and then we surprised my two sisters, my grandmother, my nieces and my nephew who were already enjoying lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant.  It was really nice to see everyone together! Sometime during the conversation my mom shouted out, “Did she tell you what happened yesterday?” Her tone made it sound like an interesting story.

My oldest sister’s eyes lit up as she begins to divulge a horrifying story. She was cleaning the drapes in her bedroom when a black thing fell from the top of the curtain, passing behind her shoulder; dust was also flying around, so she didn’t think twice about it.