The Truth About Being a Mother

                                              The Truth about Being a Mother

    

I didn't know what to expect when going into a pregnancy. I knew that there would be good times and I knew that there would be bad times, I just didn't know what exactly that meant. Parenthood, childhood, adulthood, it's all different for everyone. If there's one thing I wish I knew better before having a baby, it's myself.

I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression at sixteen years old. I took medication for less than a week before I just decided I didn't need it anymore. I was feeling better after I had gone to therapy and talked to people about how I felt. I hadn't felt an ounce of anxiety since. My pregnancy went very smoothly, with almost no complications or concerns. I was happy, healthy and so was my family and baby. 

The very night I brought my daughter home, I recognized every single danger that existed in my house. It wasn't just that the knives were on the counter, or the medicine needed to be moved to a higher place, it was literally everything. The corners on the table, what if she bonks? Every little crumb on the floor, what if she gets food on her skin and goes into anaphylaxis? Even staying up all night when all I needed was sleep just to make sure she was breathing okay and still not being assured that she wasn't going to be a SIDS victim. I did everything I could to avoid every possible injury. I put an air purifier in every room different times of the day. Elodie never ever slept in the same bed as me. She has still never had a blanket to sleep with or a stuffed animal because what if she suffocates in her sleep? We have done hours of research on the best car seat, the best water bottle, the best spoon, the best formula, everything you could think of. These thoughts all day every day are extremely exhausting, but the worst thing of all, I can't control everything. No matter how worried I am, no matter how much I do to protect her from everything, there is always just the chance of life. 

In the very beginning with her, I had nightmares of babies getting hurt and even dying and would wake up crying, running to her bed to see if she was okay. I would have the worst thoughts just at random. I thought that this was normal. I thought that it was just my brain kicking into protective mode. This is Post Partum anxiety. It runs my life at this point. It has induced hypochondria, fear of death, and a brain that runs 24/7 on fear and the attempt to control life itself. 

I check my heart rate over a hundred times every day. I am a twenty year old woman with no health complications and I am constantly afraid that I am dying. I know that sounds ridiculous, and well, it is. Every headache is my brain dying. Every odd chest pain, is a heart attack. Back pain, liver disease. I have researched so many hours and so many medical conditions, I could pass a med school test. Anxiety comes with its' own set of symptoms, chest pressure, shortness of breath, numbness, high alert, etc. So I get anxiety, anxiety symptoms, I overthink the symptoms, more anxiety, worse symptoms, and the cycle continues for minutes to hours to days. And I just found out, this isn't normal. 

I have spoken to therapists about this, and all I have heard back is anxiety medication. I have a lot of hesitation when it comes to taking medication. I would rather gain back the control of myself that I used to have than avoid the issue and accept it. There is nothing wrong with taking them, I just prefer not to do so. I am currently learning how to cope, how to slow my mind down and live in the moment, but it is slow slow slow progress. I had no idea for over a year, that this was a real problem. I wanted to share this less attractive side of motherhood to help other parents, and people who want to understand their parents. 

I hope soon, I will be able to post my recovery story, and help other people who struggle with PPA, PPD, and other disorders that are side effects of raising babies.