Since I put this page up in June, mothers have been writing to me from all over. Some of them said I could share a little of what they wrote, with just their first name and their state. Every one of them got better. I asked each of them what she'd tell a mom who's in the middle of it right now, and that's the last line of each story. If you'd like to add yours, write to me.

Betsy, Minnesota

Mine didn't start until my daughter was almost six months old. Everything had been fine. I'd gone back to work, she was sleeping through the night, and then one week in the fall it was like somebody turned off the lights. I didn't think it could be postpartum depression because I thought that only happened right after the baby. My doctor said it can start any time in the first year. I did counseling and medicine and I'm doing well now. My daughter is fourteen months old and says "uh-oh" about everything.
What I'd tell you: it doesn't matter when it started. If you don't feel like yourself, call.

Leann, Iowa

I didn't cry. That's why nobody caught it, including me. I was just angry all the time and couldn't sit still. I snapped at my husband over the dishwasher and then lay awake all night worrying. I thought depression meant crying in bed. It turned out mine looked like anxiety and irritability, and my doctor said that's really common. A support group at our church hospital helped me the most, just hearing other women say the same things.
What I'd tell you: it doesn't always look like sadness.

Sandra, Texas

My husband is in the Army and he was in the field for three weeks when our son was a month old. I didn't know anybody on post yet. I stopped answering the phone. My neighbor two doors down, who I'd talked to exactly once, noticed my curtains were closed for four days and knocked on my door with a pan of brownies. I opened the door and burst into tears. She took me to the clinic that afternoon. I owe that woman everything.
What I'd tell you: open the door. Somebody's knocking.

Shari, Washington

I had it with my first baby in 1986 and nobody ever named it. I just thought I was a terrible mother for a whole year, and I didn't have another baby for nine years because I was so scared. When I got pregnant with my second, I told my doctor about the first time, and she made a plan with me before the baby even came. It still happened, but we caught it in the second week and I got help right away, and it was so much shorter and easier. I wish I could go back and tell my twenty-five-year-old self.
What I'd tell you: if you've had it before, tell your doctor before the next baby comes.

Kari, North Dakota

I was twenty-two and I'd always been the happy one. Prom committee, cheerleading, everybody's friend. After the twins came I was so ashamed to be the girl who wasn't happy that I hid it from everybody for four months. My mom finally drove four hours in a snowstorm because I sounded "off" on the phone. She was right. Twins are a lot. Depression on top of twins is too much for one person, and I didn't have to be one person. I had a whole family who wanted to help.
What I'd tell you: you don't have to be the strong one right now.

Christy, Ohio

I'm a nurse. I knew all about postpartum depression. I had taught new mothers about it! And I still didn't recognize it in myself, because I was so sure I'd know. My husband was the one who brought it up, very gently, at the kitchen table one night. I was furious at him for about a day, and then I called my doctor. Medicine and a counselor and a lot of walks with the dog. My son is two now and I'm expecting again this winter, and this time I've got a plan.
What I'd tell you: listen to the people who love you, even when you're mad at them.

And one more, from my Tuesday group

Tanya is thirty-two and has three kids, and she told me I could put this here. She said: "With my first two, I was fine. With my third, I wasn't. It doesn't mean you did something wrong this time. It just means this time, you need help." She brings her baby girl to group every week in a different hand-knit hat, and she's the one who taught me that when somebody asks how you're doing, you're allowed to answer honestly.