At the height of my anxiety, I remember leaving my house for the first time in 4 months, driving two blocks to the grocery store, and sitting in the parking lot crying.
It was a cold winter day. I had bought this nice new stroller, the latest craze, and the best one on the market at the time. I had never used it because I had locked myself up in my house since my son got out of the hospital.
We had a rocky start with him developing a fever the day after being released from the hospital. We were given the okay to leave the hospital despite struggling for days with breastfeeding and latching. The hospital was “baby-friendly,” which meant they did not promote formula, they didn’t carry it, and in the mandatory class, breastfeeding was positioned as the best and only choice.
I was new to the new mom thing, I was new to the breastfeeding thing, and I bought into the idea that him latching would happen on its own and it would be easy, eventually. I just had to “stick it out.”
Well, it wasn’t easy. When we arrived at the emergency room, we spent four long hours trying to get blood from my son’s tiny veins. They brought in many different doctors and nurses to “try” my husband held my son while I stood in a corner sobbing. I had just had a c-section but don’t even remember any pain because I was so distraught. They found a vein eventually put him on IV, a nurse went out and brought in some formula for us, and we stayed on the PEDS floor for five days. Our stay also required spinal tabs and a series of tests, the reason for our visit- severe dehydration. My son had lost over 15% of his body weight, and we needed to get him nutrients to gain weight again.
The amount of guilt I felt was debilitating. Whenever I remembered my son crying all night long the first few days at home, knowing now that he was starving, I sent chills down my spine and made me (still makes me) cry.
Because of this, I spent all day and night pumping, feeding, and attending to my baby 24 hrs.
The mom guilt, coupled with a few bouts of mastitis - one that sent me to the hospital for an ultrasound, brought on some severe anxiety. Together with a lack of sleep, I was a complete mess.
I developed a fear of leaving my house, was either crying or sleeping sitting up, and felt the lowest I had felt, ever. This situation went on for four months and peaked when I attempted to take a grocery store trip.
I made it inside with my little boy in the car seat, got my groceries, and go back to my car. I put my son in and felt so anxious my breathing quickened, and I just wanted to get home. This world was far too dangerous to expose him to. As I put my new shiny stroller away, I couldn’t figure out how to fold it. I tried every button. I started to panic. My trunk was open, and my son would freeze; how could this happen. I tried to put in the stroller fully open in the trunk, but it was too big. My next thought was to leave the stroller all together; I didn’t care. I cried and felt light-headed. I pulled and pushed, and it finally folded. I closed the trunk and sat in my car for 5 minutes, sobbing. I had not slept all night, my boobs were leaking, and my little one was taken out of our “safe” environment. I was the worst mom ever, not cut out for this.
Sleep deprivation had taken it’s toll. It had made my anxiety worse each day. I felt I would never get out of this cycle as my little one depended on me rocking him every two hours, so by the time I had finished pumping, I was back to rocking. I felt this was my duty to sacrifice my well-being for my child, mostly because of guilt.
But now I realize I was not helping him. In fact, during those 4-5 months, I felt less of a bond with him. Possibility because I was NOT OKAY. I now know that this is common in mothers with PPA. I felt immense guilt for not feeling well, which caused me to feel less attached, and I try to overcompensate for that by giving all of me, which became a cycle.
One night I fell asleep on the couch as I went to get him a bottle and didn’t wake up. I was such in a deep sleep that I didn’t hear him cry (thank goodness I wasn’t holding him, and he was safe in his bassinet). I slept for 5 hours and woke up to painful breasts and confused as to where I was. I then decided that I needed to make some changes. I reached out for help.
I started by fixing my sleep deprivation, I learned about sleep, took a sleep course, and started implementing some of the same sleep strategies I teach today, and I STARTED SLEEPING. Within a few weeks, we were sleeping 12 hours with one feed at night. I woke up, I felt better, and I got a hold of the anxiety. As I suspect it will always be, my guilt was still there, but I was a new woman. I started having more time during naps to catch up on me things, like showering! I found a community of moms and used that new stroller to go out for walks. I overcame my PPA, and sleep deprivation and sleep transformed my life.
I was over the hump. There would still be hiccups, but now I was rested and could approach them with a clear mind. My bond and attachment with my baby significantly improved. I realized that for our attachment to be strong, I didn’t have to be “attached” to my baby 24/7. It was the QUALITY of time we spent together. I was able to respond in a much more intentional way. I was no longer reacting out of guilt, but I was taking time to stand back and assess what my child needed at that moment, and sometimes it was sleep.
My second post pardon experience was hugely different, although I had a two-year-old to run after. It had its own challenges, but no PPD, and I was well rested from the beginning (as much as a newborn mom can be). I also decided not to breastfeed and formula feed, which allowed my husband and I to switch off and split the feedings. I started my business during this newborn phase and really enjoyed motherhood so much more this time around. I took in both my kids and had the energy to keep up with them and help other moms while my daughter napped.
Many of the moms I speak to tell me this:
-They are doing something wrong
-There is guilt
-There is frustration
-There is a feeling of not doing it right or not being a good mom
I want to tell you that YOU ARE DOING A GREAT JOB. There is nothing wrong with reaching out for help. In fact, I think it’s necessary. We can’t do it all, and we need to ultimately make the best choices for our family.
If that choice is getting more sleep, then I’m here.
