We Can't Do This Alone; Navigating Bipolar I, Childhood Trauma, Loss & Motherhood

Trigger Warning: infant loss

I was born and raised in Detroit, the youngest of three and the only girl. At 16, I was

diagnosed with Bipolar I and soon after sent nearly 1,000 miles from home to a

residential facility in rural Vermont, where I spent 11 months. Experiences like mine

have since been brought to light through an award-winning Netflix docuseries and the

advocacy of Paris Hilton, who has worked to amplify the voices of survivors of the

Troubled Teen Industry (TTI).

Being a TTI survivor also meant experiencing profound loss—I lost close to seven of my

classmates by the time I was 23. While I could center my story on childhood trauma,

that’s not what I’m here to do.

My message here is about healing in seasons of stress and the high stakes of being the

“memory-maker” of the family. What it looks like to navigate that as a mom, whether

you’re new to motherhood or deep in it. More importantly, I want to share how to

intentionally build a supportive, life-giving community from the ground up—because

healing and motherhood were never meant to happen alone.

Where I Came From

Growing up I had two dedicated working parents in Detroit. My father a public school

teacher and middle school principal, my mother, a Lobbyist. This allowed me to not only

be more independent but also form lifelong bonds with many different adult women in

my life, not just my own mom. My parents set a great example on how to build a

community, not just for themselves but also for their children.

Little did I know being sent to Vermont would be the first of many times I would build my

community from scratch all on my own. 11 months later the facility closed leaving me

and the remaining teenagers with nowhere to go. Luckily, the staff and my parents

decided it was best to continue at a regular prep school, though still in Vermont. From

there I graduated and got to move onto college where I graduated in 4 years with my special education degree. Though I was not a straight-A student, I made lifelong

friendships there on my own, once again.

Another New Start

Then I moved to Wisconsin where I found great career opportunities as a Director at the

YMCA and then as a social worker for Sixteenth Street Community Centers on the

South Side. I knew no one in Wisconsin. Then once again, started to put myself out

there to meet friends through work and I even tried a friendship app for a hot minute.

Though it was hard to put myself out there once again, I made great friendships and

even one that would become my firstborn’s godmother.

Navigating Motherhood With Bipolar I

7 years later, I was blessed with my first daughter. Though I was high risk due to my

medications, I loved being pregnant and it felt so empowering that my body could do

such a magical thing.

I knew going into pregnancy I would be a higher risk for postpartum psychosis because

of my bipolar, however, I was not prepared for what came next.

After giving birth to her, I tried my best to stick to a routine, though as I am sure you can

relate is nearly impossible with a newborn, and I made sure to follow my doctor’s

instructions with medication.

Still, I went through post-partum psychosis which consisted of seeing a dead baby as I

looked over my daughter in her bassinet, next thing I know, a panic attack leading me

into the back of a cop car despite not being violent towards anyone.

And finally, found myself hospitalized for my daughter’s second week of life. Although I

had gone through psychotic episodes in the past, this episode was the scariest thing I

had ever experienced, and I felt like no one could relate to me.

How Support Carries You

Without my parents who drove through the night from Traverse City to help me and my

daughter, and the community around me here in Wisconsin who knew me and loved me

with and without bipolar, I do not know where I would have turned during this episode. -

because you cannot face these challenges alone.

It was so important that these friends and family were educated on what my bipolar

looked like or else they would not have known how to support me. My team of doctors

were also key to getting me home to my daughter safe and stable.

Holding her after being at the hospital without her for a week felt incredible. I was elated

to be home again.

I had the blessing of becoming a stay-at-home mom, but it did not come with its lack of

challenges. Since most of my friends in Wisconsin did not have kids, I once again found

myself looking for a new community to lean on. I went to events and group playdates

such as Babbling Babes, Park Pals, Milwaukee MomWalk, and even a friend introduced me to the local MomCo group at our church. I started to feel less lonely one day at a

time.

I take a lot of pride in my ability to create a community wherever I go. Again, my parents

were my inspiration in this- they can truly make the best of friends and keep them like

no one else I know. Building a community has been essential to my recovery as both a

woman and a mother.

We All Need Community

Each and every strong woman who has experienced motherhood whether it be blood-

related or not, has given me hope through my own journey of motherhood. My

grandmother who battled Bipolar I who raised 5 strong children has given me hope,

mothers who have taken me under their wing have given me hope, my community of

powerful women, mothers or not, have given me hope.

These women have been through a lot, but they remind me every day that I can get

through the next hour, the next 48 hours, the next year and so on. I am reminded that it

is okay to take care of myself mentally.

I never liked the saying “you can’t pour from an empty cup” because sometimes we

have to, that is the only way, especially as mothers. I have come to find that when I pour

from an empty cup, it is important that after, I just fill my cup a quarter of the way full.

This way I have something to look forward to, a cup of coffee, a chat with a friend, a

nice shower (though I will often need to rush through it), a chat with my mom or dad or

brothers, etc.

In the past 20 years I have come to find a pattern in each season of change as I have

taken bipolar along with me, from high school to college, from college to career and

marriage and then to motherhood…there is a common denominator throughout it al.

The need for community.

You don’t have to be an aunt, grandmother, or sister to reach out and offer help, you can

simply be a neighbor or a friend.

As mothers, it is very important to appreciate the community you are in and be present

with those around you because before you know it, it will turn into a memory that fills

you with hope and trust in the unknown plan that is for you.

There is no room for judgement, competition, or exclusion .Community and supporting

one another takes priority. And it starts with just one. One new friend, one family

member, one connection that you trust enough to say- I need help, I need someone to

lean on.

You will have high highs and low lows. Know that it is okay that healing takes time and

is not linear. Sometimes life will just suck, but know there is a better tomorrow and that

you can reach out to those around you in times of need.

We Can All Build Community

As a mother, mental health advocate, and public speaker, I’ve witnessed how powerful it

is when someone offers an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. When we show up for

one another, we break the barriers of isolation and create a space where leaning on

each other isn’t just accepted— it’s celebrated.

I want to challenge each of you today to be someone, that someone like me, can turn

to. Building a community starts with just one. One person who will listen without

judgement. One who won’t turn their backs when things get messy. One who will keep

checking in even when you aren’t responding to texts or calls.

You can be that person. A safe harbor when things feel out of control.

I also challenge you to be brave enough to say, I’m really struggling. I need help.

There is no shame in that. We all need somebody to lean on in times of need. If you

don’t feel like you have a community, you can lean on these wonderful women around

you.

And know that you are not alone.

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Margaux Baumgarten is a mother of two girls, 3 years old and 5 months, and

serves as the secretary on the NAMI board of directors. She is a presenter for NAMI’s

Ending The Silence program where we speak across Milwaukee and Waukesha

Counties to high schoolers about our stories of recovery and the basics of mental health

and mental illness.