Trigger Warning: suicidal thoughts
“Stop fighting with your past, it’s over now.” This is something I have been telling myself for a long time. It’s still hard to believe and accept that I have lived through (and survived) the most difficult time in my life. My babies are my greatest gift and I work continuously to help them be smart, sweet and caring human beings. I love them. But, in the back of my mind, I still hear the word, “remember.” Remembering is something I have to do daily. I force myself to remember my struggle so that I will continue to implement the changes I worked so hard to put in place…don’t do too much during the day, stop and play with the girls, it’s 8:00 p.m., the dishes can wait till tomorrow. Remember to breathe. Remember it’s okay to say “no.” Remember to schedule some “me” time.
My story begins with the birth of my first baby and my struggle with (what I now know was) postpartum anxiety (PPA). I had a terrible birth experience and went home very sick. It was incredibly difficult and I still don’t know how I survived those early days. The breastfeeding fails, a baby who wouldn’t sleep, being alone a good part of the day, the complete and utter exhaustion. That was my life for the first few months. When I finally began to feel a little better, I went back to work. Being the “Type A” person that I am, I thought I could do it all and not ask for help. Everything needed to be perfect and in accordance with the way I wanted to to be done. I always wanted to have a plan and to know exactly what was coming. In hindsight, I can see that this was a way of trying to cope with the anxiety that’s been a part of me all my life.
Living with anxiety was much easier before baby. I had the time to clean, organize and make sure everything was done correctly. But having a baby made this nearly impossible. Now, the baby came first. I began to crack. I tried to balance it all while taking care of my baby and working as an RN; but, I became easily frustrated and angry. I felt full of rage and started to experience intrusive thoughts which just made my anxiety worse. I never fully recovered and I never got help. I knew something was wrong, but I just kept going.
I became pregnant with my second baby when my first was three. This pregnancy was harder than the first. Sickness, anxiety and depression began to kick in. I sought help from a therapist because I just couldn’t handle my thoughts sometimes. I also began seeing a psychiatrist. Wonder why it took me so long to get help? Well, for starters, I didn’t know I had PPA. It sounds odd, but when I continued to ask for help at multiple doctor appointments, I was told that I was a new mom and that all this was normal. I should have spoken up and taken a stand, but I just figured the doctors were right.
Thankfully, the postpartum period with my second was not as hard as my first. I remember thinking she was my second chance and I was so happy for the first few months. I decided not to go back to work after maternity leave and I resigned. This baby was much better; but, handling a three-year-old and a newborn began to take its toll.
To make a long story short, after multiple medication attempts, months and months of frustration, anger, yelling, struggling to get through day-to-day life and feeling like a terrible mother, I officially broke. In the summer of 2017, when my youngest was 18 months old, I just wanted to run away and I became suicidal. I wanted to be done with everything. I was exhausted from trying so hard and getting nowhere, exhausted from being with my thoughts and tired of thinking I was crazy.
By August of 2017, I was in a partial hospitalization program. For three weeks, I went daily and, thankfully, I came out a different girl. The tools I learned in the program helped me more than words; however, what helped me the most, was knowing that I wasn’t alone. Suddenly, I knew I wasn’t crazy, that there was help and that I was doing what I needed to do to survive. Since completing the program, I continue to learn about myself. I have a few “rules” that I follow daily (which are difficult for me sometimes). 8 o’clock is my cut off time and whatever isn’t done, gets done tomorrow. I journal, I went back to work part time and my kids are in school full time. Life is different. It is good and a daily struggle all at the same time. But I got through it and so will you!
In conclusion, my fellow moms, my message to you is to ask for help. Stand up for yourself. Perinatal mood and anxiety disorders don’t just affect moms, they affect the entire family. Establish some rules for yourself to help you keep on track. Learn to say “no.” Remember you are doing your best and that your kids don’t want a perfect mom, they just want you. I will say that these changes won’t happen overnight. You’ll likely have good days and bad days but always remember that you matter. Your feelings are real and don’t ever let anyone tell you any different. Care for yourself everyday and continue to move forward by remembering that you can stop fighting with your past, it’s over now.