My Journey Back to Me: My Struggle with Postpartum Anxiety
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Delicious ... and to me for those first several months, scary.
As I watched Teddy lay on his back, fully engaged by the wonders of the ceiling fan, I knew I should be enraptured by the sight of this little being thriving in my house. I didn’t feel that connection. Instead, I felt as though there was an elephant balancing on my chest. I could not get a full breath; I could not stop the looping thoughts rolling through my mind; my body vibrated with worry. So much to do, so much to think about, so much that was out of my control. What could I do?
This was my reality. As I stared at Teddy I felt swallowed by it all.
As a new mom you are told everything will be soft baby smells and cuddles, night time feeds and daytime naps, weird poops and lots of burps, not much sleep but a lot of smiles. You are not often told about the sneaking feelings of doubt and dread, or the suffocating sense of being overwhelmed and the inescapable feeling of inadequacy that may join you.
Those first couple of weeks I remember watching Zach with Teddy and being amazed at the ease with which he handled everything. It all appeared to come so naturally and easily to him. I felt like I was swimming up stream to decipher motherhood and Zach looked like he was born into the role of Dad. I turned to Zach one day and told him that I never could be as good a parent as he was, it was just so easy for him.
Teddy was so deliciously adorable. I did want to eat him up, just like everyone said I would. I just couldn’t understand why he made me feel so out of place.
I felt huge waves of anxiety and pressure to love him more than I felt I was able to. I was deeply worried and found little ability to come up for air.
I did all the right things. I posted all the right pictures to Instagram and Facebook. “Look! 3, 4, 5, 6 Months!” “Me and Teddy at Mount Vernon” and on and on. Great pictures, cute captions. But all was not right.
Early on, a friend came over to see us in our new mom and baby bliss and said, “Don’t you just love it?” and I blurted out “No.” I don’t think she knew what to say, that’s not the answer you expect from a new mom basking in new baby glory. But it was the truth, and I’ve never been one to mince words.
I was not sleeping well – I was overwhelmed with worry, a worry so intense that I could barely move. What if he started crying and never stopped? What if I couldn’t soothe him? What if I didn’t mix the formula correctly? What if … ? My mind was racing and never rested.
Posting all the right things. Cute photos and cute captions. No indication of how I was feeling.
I was not able to eat. Friends marveled at my ability to “loose the baby weight.” I smiled and thanked them, demurring. When in reality, my anxiety was such that I was constantly on edge and rarely ate more than breakfast and dinner. Me, the lover of all things food and kitchen, rarely ate more than a PBJ.
Even the things that had always brought me joy and calm no longer soothed my soul. When I turned to running, my anxieties spiked and the enjoyment was gone. I couldn’t be away from Teddy for long without my mind wandering to odd worries or my palms getting sweaty (more so than from the run).
Running no longer cleared my mind and heart, it made them run faster.
To be clear, I was never afraid of our baby, or myself. I never felt as though I was a danger to either of us or anyone else. Instead I felt shrouded in a veil of uncertainty and self doubt so strong I was suffocated by my thoughts and paralyzed by my racing mind unable to enjoy anything for fear of missing something with Teddy. It turned into a full body experience when my lungs wouldn’t fill and heart wouldn’t slow.
I wasn't depressed, I was scared as hell.
I don’t know if Zach realized the depth of the self doubt and the feelings of fear I was having at the time. He would later as I would recount them to him in our kitchen, crying to him that I thought maybe we made a mistake. Not because I didn’t love Teddy, but because I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t feel like myself, I was struggling to get a full breath so badly that I was sighing with frequency just to get more air and didn’t even notice it, it had become part of who I was. I needed help.
After many evenings crying in the kitchen to Zach, after many nights up with my mind looking into the future at the next possible catastrophe or looping over and over again over things I couldn't control, I decided I was too tired and needed help. Zach was with me every step of the way in this decision making. He saw the pain I was in and wanted as much as I did for me to find myself again.
When Teddy turned one I finally went to see my GP, under guise of an annual physical, to talk to him about helping me. When Dr. C opened our appointment with “how has life been” and I started crying.I knew I had made the right choice.
Dr. C said “It seems to me like you have been suffering from some rough post partum anxiety, we can help you get back to yourself.” He and I discussed how my understanding of my “Type-A” perfectionist personality throughout my life actually had many indicators of anxiety in it. Looking back, anxiety affected much of my schooling and early career. It had now affected the first year of my life with my child. I was ready for the cycle to end.
We settled on a regimen of daily Lexapro, Xanax as needed for the severe anxiety attacks, and using a self guided mediation app until I felt comfortable with running being “me time” again.
Not an ounce of me was wary, I was eager to have myself back and begin a better chapter for my whole family.
Just a couple weeks into my new regimen of medication and mediation (I honestly was not very good at mediating) the fog of anxiety began to lift, I felt myself breathing fresh air for the first time in a year. The difference was night and day. I began to relax and enjoy my baby.
For the first time since becoming a mother I felt like my true self shining through and I loved what I became.
Today there is a sense of, "I can do this, I can do this really well," and a sense freedom in my brain.
These days I often get told how laid back of a mom I am, how fun it is that I run around the park, or go out splashing in puddles with Teddy. I laugh and say thank you and am so happy that what people see is what I feel. My mind flashes back to that first year and I am so happy to have made it out and to have become the mom that Teddy deserves.
I am able to be this mom, wife, and friend because I addressed some serious anxiety. To all of the mamas out there, please know you are not alone. If you feel any of this you, too, can get the help you need. You aren’t less of a mother because of postpartum anxiety or depression. Please do not be sacred to contact me or anyone you can talk to for support. You do not have to walk this alone.
Postpartum anxiety is spoken about less frequently than postpartum depression but is not a rare in its occurrence. Postpartum anxiety affects 10% of women, it is not rare, nor is it something to be ashamed of - Please do not feel alone.
Should you or anyone you know struggle with postpartum anxiety or depression please reach out to a care provider and whether it be a general practice physician or your ObGyn, know you can openly discuss what is happening with them. Do not be afraid or nervous to reach out to a friend or family member first. Sometime that is the easiest first step.
Reach out to: http://www.postpartum.net/get-help/locations/united-states/
For more information: http://www.postpartum.net/learn-more/anxiety-during-pregnancy-postpartum/
