I was in hell when this photo was taken. Hell both mentally and physically. My mother-in-law had come over one day shortly after the snapping of this photo and forced me to go on a walk around the neighborhood. The anxiety that set in was all too consuming. I didn't want to get them ready, I wanted to be me and just walk out the door. This "new normal" that I was waiting for had not arrived. I forced myself out the door that day and spent the entire walk cringing inside, silently counting the seconds until we returned home which all of a sudden that day seemed like a safe place.
I knew that hell was not where I wanted to be and I had to do something. I reached out to a counselor and sought out therapy. I reached out to every mom that I knew and to my surprise had moms that I had never met get in touch with me because friends reached out to send me support. I was desperate for help. I would have done anything to be able to crawl out of the hell hole I called my mind. I needed someone to say to me, "I have been there. You are not alone." One of the most profound statements that was ever said to me by a friend during this process was, "Love grows." I quickly realized that I didn't know these new people in my life and these new beings depended on me for their survival. That statement helped me come to terms with the fact that they were getting to know me and I was getting to know them.
With help I worked thru the depression but the anxiety manifested quickly. Love grows it's true and as the weeks went on I found myself more happily immersed in motherhood but then the thoughts, things that I would have never thought prior to having kids began to rob me again, slowly, yet fiercely. Thoughts that something was going to happen to me and that I was going to leave my kids, thoughts of them drowning in the ocean when we went to the beach, thoughts of someone coming into our house to kidnap them, obsessively checking the thermostat because an article I read said the temperature should be between 68-72 in their room and panicking that something would happen to them if the temperature was even a degree off, and thoughts that I couldn't walk down the stairs holding them because I would surely trip and severely injure them to name a few. This is postpartum anxiety everyone. It has a name and it is real.
It has been a very long 21 months for my mental health but I will be forever grateful that someone, quite possibly my mother, was looking out for me on day two. As odd as it sounds I feel lucky that I was able to identify what was happening to me. I continue to battle postpartum anxiety every day but after investing in my health I feel armed with tools to combat "the new me." That is not the case for so many women. Women are suffering, women are silently crying out, women need us. You may ask why I'm sharing this with you. It's raw, it's real but it needs to be shared. I need other women to know they truly are not alone. That their thoughts have run thru the minds of many of us. Their feelings have been felt by many of us and we get it. We are with you. We are you. We hear you and we see you. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and we need to work together, we must unite to make that tunnel passable. We need to keep this conversation going because PPD and PPA care must become a larger part of our prenatal care. Period.
To my sons, and my husband, I love you more than any word could express. Thank you for waiting for me.
I was in hell when this photo was taken. Hell both mentally and physically. My mother-in-law had come over one day shortly after the snapping of this photo and forced me to go on a walk around the neighborhood. The anxiety that set in was all too consuming. I didn't want to get them ready, I wanted to be me and just walk out the door. This "new normal" that I was waiting for had not arrived. I forced myself out the door that day and spent the entire walk cringing inside, silently counting the seconds until we returned home which all of a sudden that day seemed like a safe place.
I knew that hell was not where I wanted to be and I had to do something. I reached out to a counselor and sought out therapy. I reached out to every mom that I knew and to my surprise had moms that I had never met get in touch with me because friends reached out to send me support. I was desperate for help. I would have done anything to be able to crawl out of the hell hole I called my mind. I needed someone to say to me, "I have been there. You are not alone." One of the most profound statements that was ever said to me by a friend during this process was, "Love grows." I quickly realized that I didn't know these new people in my life and these new beings depended on me for their survival. That statement helped me come to terms with the fact that they were getting to know me and I was getting to know them.
With help I worked thru the depression but the anxiety manifested quickly. Love grows it's true and as the weeks went on I found myself more happily immersed in motherhood but then the thoughts, things that I would have never thought prior to having kids began to rob me again, slowly, yet fiercely. Thoughts that something was going to happen to me and that I was going to leave my kids, thoughts of them drowning in the ocean when we went to the beach, thoughts of someone coming into our house to kidnap them, obsessively checking the thermostat because an article I read said the temperature should be between 68-72 in their room and panicking that something would happen to them if the temperature was even a degree off, and thoughts that I couldn't walk down the stairs holding them because I would surely trip and severely injure them to name a few. This is postpartum anxiety everyone. It has a name and it is real.
It has been a very long 21 months for my mental health but I will be forever grateful that someone, quite possibly my mother, was looking out for me on day two. As odd as it sounds I feel lucky that I was able to identify what was happening to me. I continue to battle postpartum anxiety every day but after investing in my health I feel armed with tools to combat "the new me." That is not the case for so many women. Women are suffering, women are silently crying out, women need us. You may ask why I'm sharing this with you. It's raw, it's real but it needs to be shared. I need other women to know they truly are not alone. That their thoughts have run thru the minds of many of us. Their feelings have been felt by many of us and we get it. We are with you. We are you. We hear you and we see you. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and we need to work together, we must unite to make that tunnel passable. We need to keep this conversation going because PPD and PPA care must become a larger part of our prenatal care. Period.
To my sons, and my husband, I love you more than any word could express. Thank you for waiting for me.
