“I never wanted kids, I wanted dogs, or adult children. But when your sister was born, it was a love I never knew I could feel”. My mom goes on to say that the love was so strong that she didn’t think there would be room in her heart for me when I was born 3 years later, but there was – her heart grew.
My mother’s stories of our early years were filled with joyous memories of sleeping babies, laughs and cuddles and life basically going on the way it always had only now it was fuller and more complete.
Rarely, if ever, was there a reflection of exhaustion, frustration, sadness, fear and worry. I naturally assumed motherhood would enrich and fulfill my life in the same way. There’s no point wishing I could go back in time to better prepare myself for the myriad of challenges and difficulties that are also a part of bringing a whole new being into this world, instead I wish to shed some light on the reality of what happened to me and hope my experiences will bring some comfort and insight to any mothers who might be struggling now.
You might be feeling overwhelmed, distressed, anxious, depressed and perhaps even shame – but in time and with a little insight and support those feelings can lead you to your own sense of bravery, perseverance, understanding and self. If you just hang on, it’s a ride worth taking.
My husband and I moved to Vancouver Island in 2019 to experience a different part of Canada. Being from Ontario and my husband from Czech Republic, we had no intention of having children away from both our families, however, with the life-halting circumstances that Covid-19 brought, we decided to continue with our family plan while here on the island because moving provinces wasn’t financially feasible for us through the pandemic.
So, we knew we were going into this new part of our lives with very little support. I surrounded myself with stories of mothers that seemingly did it all; I wanted to see families that continued engaging in their life, just with a little one in tow and families that were living away from their own supports and were able to care for their child without help.
When being screened for Postpartum Depression and Anxiety I answered all the questions honestly, so I thought, and being a therapist in the mental health field I thought I was well-versed and prepared for coping with what was to come. I would also hear from friends and family that I would be a natural, easy-going mom and I didn’t have to worry. I truly believed them, and I believed I would be. I had a picture in my head of what our future was going to look like with our little baby.
So many snuggles and tired yet somehow put together enough to sleepily smile to family and friends saying we are so in love [insert heart eyes emoji]. I didn’t realize the anxiety was creeping in through my second trimester. I was anxiously refreshing the blood work results page to see my gestational diabetes numbers for days before they were even expected to be posted. I was worried about what my stress was going to do to the baby, and I was worried about not exercising enough. The list of worries piled up. I can see now what I couldn’t see then; this was the beginning of my Postpartum Anxiety journey.
Over the course of my son’s first year of life I experienced sleep-deprivation hallucinations, intrusive thoughts and intense, all-encompassing anxiety surrounding his health. I was seeing my son as a collection of symptoms, and I was convinced he wasn’t okay. I spent hours into the night Googling what symptoms I thought I saw and holding this worry that I only ever spoke out loud when I was beyond worry and wanted to take him to the hospital.
Every morning I would have a few seconds of reprieve before a heavy pit would settle into my stomach and I would try my best to feel the smile on my face as I played with my son. I remember listening to a podcast in the early months while going for a hike with my son about postpartum anxiety and intrusive thoughts and I remember thinking, well thank goodness I don’t have that, it would make this so much harder!
I didn’t see the anxiety in my own experience at that point, especially because I hadn’t started to experience intrusive thoughts yet. Those came around 5 months postpartum. Intrusive thoughts are unwanted thoughts that cause discomfort and distress when experienced. They can be experienced in flashes of images and usually include baby, yourself or a loved one. I was ashamed and overwhelmed by them and was clinging to any sliver of a moment throughout my day that I wasn’t all consumed by them. I can now see how cyclical intrusive thoughts are with anxiety. The actual thoughts were fleeting moments throughout my day, but I became anxiously preoccupied about when the next one would happen, which inevitably it would, and after I would experience a flood of shame and embarrassment for having them.
My husband was the best support he could be, and I am in gratitude for his stability and love. But I realized and he agreed that I needed help. I remember this urge to just know that I was not alone in experiencing these thoughts. I wanted to hear someone say, “you are not the only one”. I knew it on an intellectual level, but I wanted to feel it.
The first resource that popped up when I Google “intrusive thoughts postpartum support” was Postpartum Support International (PSI); and this was the beginning of my healing journey. They have a text support line that is staffed by volunteers. This was perfect; I could reach out for support anonymously and not have to say “I need help” out loud. I texted and immediately received a text back. I told them I was having intrusive thoughts and I wanted to know that other people had them too.
They reassured me that many moms experience them, and the sentence I needed to hear, you are not the only one. They encouraged me to reach out to a PSI therapist for further support and left me with some links to resources. I promptly deleted the message after, erasing any sign that it happened because what if somehow, someone saw those messages and discovered what I was experiencing.
Though it was a relief to reach out for the first time, I was still wrapped in shame and anger that this was happening. You see, perinatal mood and anxiety disorders show up in many ways, but they all have common threads that weave around those experiencing them. Fear. Isolation. Shame. Anger. Grief. Fear that this is the new me, that I am never going to be the same again. Isolated from friends, family and community because how can I show this part of myself, and I am too tired to try and hide it. Shame that I am having this experience, that I must not be cut out for this. Anger that I can’t control how I am feeling and angry that other people seem to ‘have it easier’. Grief; I had to grieve the postpartum experience that I didn’t have and that I wanted.
I remember sharing what developmental and motor impairments I thought my son was showing symptoms of with my therapist, and I remember laughing. Perhaps I was trying to portray that I was okay with it now. Though I don’t remember her exact words, I do remember her kind smile and her expression. She saw the struggle. She was able to hear what I said and convey to me that this wasn’t typical ‘mom worry’, that it was a lot to be experiencing and for the most part alone in my mind and body. She validated that it must be really exhausting to live in that constant state of worry.
Through our exploration, I was able to discover so much more about myself, my inner world and how it was showing up in my new role as a mother. I came to understand that I did have many risk factors for experiencing postpartum anxiety. I continued going to therapy and I worked to develop ways to cope with the intrusive thoughts, so they were not all-consuming. I did, however, continue to experience them until about 8 months postpartum.
I believe the passage of time helped tremendously, but there were a few key elements that I attribute to me being well. First and foremost, I hiked. I know hiking with a baby, or even on your own is not for everyone; any kind of movement especially outside, will suffice. Hiking for me was multipurpose. My son came out not knowing how amazing sleep is, unfortunately, so napping was a constant struggle from 4 months on. But he would nap while being carried, so I carried him. All. The. Time.
I spent many days out on a trail walking fast because the faster I walked, the more he bounced and the easier he fell asleep. Hiking was the one place where I felt any semblance of confidence that I knew what I was doing. Hiking while carrying a baby (or just carrying a baby anywhere) offers an amazing opportunity to be mindful. I had to watch my footing, balance and surroundings and I quickly discovered that my anxious and intrusive thoughts were quieter and sometimes even gone.
On days when the pit in my stomach was heavy and I couldn’t seem to cope with my thoughts, I would go out and hike a steep hill (I know, I know, not for everyone), but for me, it was almost like the harder I was breathing, the more my anxiety would almost evaporate. I know the research behind outdoors and mental health and the benefits it has, and I can say now that I felt the benefit and necessity of it.
Another integral part of my wellness came from intentionally looking for and growing my community of people. I turned to Facebook and scoured the comments and posts of other parents looking to get outside with their young babies. I was able to connect with some new mothers who also hiked with their Littles, which then led to being invited into a Facebook group just for moms who hike in Nanaimo. I knew that a huge missing piece of my wellness was connection.
I had a handful of friends that I had made when I moved, but I needed to be around other people who were in the baby stage. I needed to talk with them about napping, poops, sleep, cutting little tiny nails and all things baby. I needed to see other moms with their babies, and I needed other moms to see me with mine. I needed a mom with a slightly older child to see what my son was doing and say “yeah, mine did that too”. It seems so simple, but when your world has done a somersault and you are not sure about anything, to have someone who just experienced it validate that you and your baby are doing okay, is a lifeline.
For the health of my body, weight training was something I began around 14 months postpartum. I joined an outdoor weight training class for women and moms and that was a game changer. I had already begun to feel more like myself through therapy, hiking and connection, and beginning to weight train just seemed like a missing piece I didn’t know I needed. To feel my body getting stronger while committing to a program and meeting new people has been one of the most satisfying experiences of my life.
The last and most difficult element of my journey was to share the struggles I was facing with my family. Telling my mom and sister how much I was struggling felt impossible. I had spent my life setting up a confident, calm and stable exterior while unconsciously pushing down doubts, anxieties and fear. My body was riddled with signs of distress from tension and stiffness to not being physically connected to my body. I had done such a good job presenting a confident and calm version of myself that I truly didn’t know I had pushed down a big chunk of my emotional experience.
To discover I actually have been experiencing the symptoms of anxiety most of my life was alarming to say the least and therefore to think about sharing this inner experience with my family felt impossible. I had to let go of needing to feel like I was in control of how my family saw me. Following the initial conversations with my mom and sister, a transformation began. It was like the part of myself that I had hidden away for so long was finally out in the sun and wanted to be seen. To acknowledge my anxious self and share this part with the people who mean the most to me was a deeper healing than I ever thought possible.
I do not think there is one answer to why I wasn’t prepared. But I now understand the importance of hearing the unfiltered, multifaceted and diverse range of perinatal experiences. I do know there are risk factors for Perinatal Mood and Anxiety Disorders and I know that ‘risk factors’ do not equate to weakness or a fault in our role as a partner, mother or individual. The transition into parenthood is life-changing no matter what kind of postpartum experience you have and being able to express all aspects of it without fear of judgement can save the quality of your life.
There are many more twists and turns in my story as I am sure there are in yours and I want you to know that your experience is valid, your experience is real, and you are not alone in any of it. There is a loved one, a friend, an online support group or a therapist waiting to hear your story and help lighten your emotional and parental load. I encourage you to find your person and community because with their support and your strength and courage, you will be well.