Postpartum Anxiety
For some women, it hits them like a ton of bricks. They come home from the hospital and nothing feels right. All of the sudden they have this human (or two, or three) to take care of and their world crashes down. They enter survival mode and go through the motions. It is never a question whether or not they have postpartum depression.
For me, it came on slowly. My maternity leave was pretty wonderful for the most part. Aside from the normal growing pains of becoming a mom, I did alright. When it came time to go back to work, I was happy and excited. I enjoy work. I enjoy going to work. I like my job, my office is my girly haven (if you've never seen it, I have a bright purple wall and pink and gold accents).
Day by day, though, something felt a little more off. My disordered eating was coming back (which, for me, is a coping mechanism). I was acting like a crazy person trying to organize and decorate my house to perfection. If Eva's bottles weren't made and stocked up, I couldn't sit down. Then, I started crying for no reason at all....then I couldn't stop crying.
I am lucky because I am very self-aware because I battle anxiety and depression as it is. I am also lucky because I have a husband who has my back and watches out for me. It took about 6 weeks for me to realize what I was going through was not just mom guilt, though.
When I finally went to my therapist, who I see for my eating disorder, anxiety, and depression, I was surprised to find that everything just came out of me like word vomit. I finally let go of all that I had been holding in, and my gosh I didn't even realize how much I had held in. What it came down to was that I wasn't making any time for self-care. But ok, what woman has time for self-care as a new mom? I have a kid to feed, a job to go to, a husband to hang with, and a SUPER demanding cat (just kidding, Coco is chill).
I looked at her like SHE was the crazy one. When the f does she think I have time to meditate? We discussed "wants" and "needs" and what I think I want vs what I think I need.
A: I "need" clothes, food, shelter- you know basic needs
Therapist: What about time for yourself?
A: Sure, I'd love that! But other things come first
T: Why don't you ever get to come first?
A: That's not the way it works
T: Why?
A:.....I have a baby
T: And a husband, who is her dad
A: .......
[end scene]
The fact of the matter is I have not given myself permission to take care of myself. I carry the weight of this family on me, when I really don't have to. I make sure breakfast is made every morning for me and Z, and was running on about 4 hrs of sleep a day (though, Eva is sleeping through the night now WOOHOO!). I go to work and deal with doctors who think they are better than me and I'm at their service. I come home exhausted, have to put Eva to bed, then Spencer wants to sit down and have a meal together (that is something that he really needs to relax) and I feel obligated to have a fancy meal with him. By the end of the night I can't keep my eyes open long enough to so much as watch a TV show. Also, the "end of the night" is like 8:00 these days.
I strive for perfection in all aspects of my life. But, I was running myself too thin and failing at everything. I was failing my kid, my job, my husband, and most importantly myself. As my book "Grace not Perfection" says, "you can't pour from an empty well." My well was bone dry.
So, I've changed a few things up. I've talked to Spencer about it all, confided in friends and doctors, and I'm giving myself permission to be imperfect. I mean, I was walking perfection before, obviously.
I write this blog not for sympathy. Honestly, being diagnosed with postpartum anxiety has given me a breath of fresh air. Like, "oh, so this ISNT forever?!" I write because my experience was so much different from what you typically hear. I didn't lose all hope in life. I didn't go through the motions every day. I bonded with Eva and thoroughly enjoy being her mom. Something just wasn't right, though.
If you think you have postpartum anxiety or depression- like my sister has said- you probably do. Just because you may be 3-4 months into the game doesn't mean you've escaped it. It doesn't discriminate. Talk to your friends, family, and doctors. Don't lose hope. There is help!
For me, it came on slowly. My maternity leave was pretty wonderful for the most part. Aside from the normal growing pains of becoming a mom, I did alright. When it came time to go back to work, I was happy and excited. I enjoy work. I enjoy going to work. I like my job, my office is my girly haven (if you've never seen it, I have a bright purple wall and pink and gold accents).
Day by day, though, something felt a little more off. My disordered eating was coming back (which, for me, is a coping mechanism). I was acting like a crazy person trying to organize and decorate my house to perfection. If Eva's bottles weren't made and stocked up, I couldn't sit down. Then, I started crying for no reason at all....then I couldn't stop crying.
I am lucky because I am very self-aware because I battle anxiety and depression as it is. I am also lucky because I have a husband who has my back and watches out for me. It took about 6 weeks for me to realize what I was going through was not just mom guilt, though.
When I finally went to my therapist, who I see for my eating disorder, anxiety, and depression, I was surprised to find that everything just came out of me like word vomit. I finally let go of all that I had been holding in, and my gosh I didn't even realize how much I had held in. What it came down to was that I wasn't making any time for self-care. But ok, what woman has time for self-care as a new mom? I have a kid to feed, a job to go to, a husband to hang with, and a SUPER demanding cat (just kidding, Coco is chill).
I looked at her like SHE was the crazy one. When the f does she think I have time to meditate? We discussed "wants" and "needs" and what I think I want vs what I think I need.
A: I "need" clothes, food, shelter- you know basic needs
Therapist: What about time for yourself?
A: Sure, I'd love that! But other things come first
T: Why don't you ever get to come first?
A: That's not the way it works
T: Why?
A:.....I have a baby
T: And a husband, who is her dad
A: .......
[end scene]
The fact of the matter is I have not given myself permission to take care of myself. I carry the weight of this family on me, when I really don't have to. I make sure breakfast is made every morning for me and Z, and was running on about 4 hrs of sleep a day (though, Eva is sleeping through the night now WOOHOO!). I go to work and deal with doctors who think they are better than me and I'm at their service. I come home exhausted, have to put Eva to bed, then Spencer wants to sit down and have a meal together (that is something that he really needs to relax) and I feel obligated to have a fancy meal with him. By the end of the night I can't keep my eyes open long enough to so much as watch a TV show. Also, the "end of the night" is like 8:00 these days.
I strive for perfection in all aspects of my life. But, I was running myself too thin and failing at everything. I was failing my kid, my job, my husband, and most importantly myself. As my book "Grace not Perfection" says, "you can't pour from an empty well." My well was bone dry.
So, I've changed a few things up. I've talked to Spencer about it all, confided in friends and doctors, and I'm giving myself permission to be imperfect. I mean, I was walking perfection before, obviously.
I write this blog not for sympathy. Honestly, being diagnosed with postpartum anxiety has given me a breath of fresh air. Like, "oh, so this ISNT forever?!" I write because my experience was so much different from what you typically hear. I didn't lose all hope in life. I didn't go through the motions every day. I bonded with Eva and thoroughly enjoy being her mom. Something just wasn't right, though.
If you think you have postpartum anxiety or depression- like my sister has said- you probably do. Just because you may be 3-4 months into the game doesn't mean you've escaped it. It doesn't discriminate. Talk to your friends, family, and doctors. Don't lose hope. There is help!
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