I’ve dealt with anxiety on and off my entire adult life. For the most part it’s manageable, but twice I’ve needed medication to get me through  particularly challenging times. Unsurprisingly, my anxiety decided to rear its ugly head when I was faced with my biggest challenge to date: motherhood.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it started, but around the time Levi turned four months I became consumed with all things sleep related. I was exhausted and desperate to get him sleeping better. I read countless books and hired a sleep consultant, and yet one month into sleep training, Levi’s  naps were still hit or miss, and some nights he would wake up crying at odd times. Instead of accepting it and recognizing that hey, he’s just a baby and this is normal, I did the opposite — I blamed myself and obsessed over every short nap and rough night. Did I put him to bed too late? Was his awake window too long? Everything was somehow my fault. 

I began to feel anxious before every nap and bedtime but I figured many new moms dealt with this type of anxiety and it would pass. After all, I was generally happy the rest of the time and in love with my baby.

I knew something wasn’t quite right when Levi was seven months and I began losing sleep about our upcoming trip to Montreal and the baby free vacation to New York we had planned. By this point Levi was sleeping through the night and napping reasonably well, yet I remained anxious about everything. I couldn’t help it. My parents brought up the subject of medication, but I brushed it off because I didn’t want to take any drugs until I was done nursing. I also remained optimistic my anxiety would improve on its own as I settled into motherhood. 

The trip came and went (it was a great success), and even though I canceled our vacation because Levi wouldn’t take a bottle — I was feeling positive about life in general. Fall was approaching and I was looking forward to getting back into freelancing, as well as the mommy and me classes I had signed us up for. I was lonely and eager to make mom friends with babies Levi’s age. And then I got sick.

After one week of common cold symptoms, I went to an ENT for pain in my ears. He diagnosed me with a sinus infection and prescribed antibiotics. Rather than making me feel better, the antibiotics left me dizzy, nauseous, and weak. The worst part was after a week my ears still hurt and my head was constantly throbbing.

I wasn’t sleeping and felt like shit. My anxiety reached an all time high because I was so stressed about not being physically able to take care of Levi. I began to fear my pain would never go away and I started having panic attacks. Even though I had help from my incredible husband and family, as well as a part-time housekeeper/nanny — I felt I was failing Levi. I knew I wasn’t thinking rationally, but I couldn’t push away my negative thoughts. 

A month passed and I had barely left the house other than to go to doctor’s appointments. I felt too sick to go to the gym or to see friends. The more I isolated myself, the sadder I became. Suddenly I was dealing with anxiety and what I recognized to be the start of depression. 

With the help of my therapist and family, I realized my anxiety was exacerbating the pain in my ears, and the key factor in my insomnia. For the first time I went to a psychiatrist who prescribed medication for anxiety/depression as well as my insomnia. She said there was definitely a hormonal component (pregnancy and giving birth does a number on your hormones), even though my depression was mild and I have a history of anxiety and OCD type behaviors. 

The first couple of weeks I continued feeling like crap and getting very little sleep, but with the help of those around me I forced myself to resume my regular activities. I signed up for my favorite dance class and I went out for dinner for the first time in two months. In time, the pain in my ears subsided and my sleep started to improve. Shortly after that my headaches got better. About a month after starting the medication I finally felt like myself again — only calmer. 

Since then I’ve been able to enjoy motherhood in a way I couldn’t before and I’m deeply grateful. I look forward to every day with Levi and I’m back to my happy (still occasionaly anxious) self. Even though it’s not easy for me to expose myself in this way, I’m doing it because when I was experiencing postpartum anxiety/depression — all I wanted was reassurance I wasn’t alone and what I was feeling was okay. I also want whoever reads this to know PPD/anxiety is complex and can take on many forms. I was fine until I wasn’t. And not once did I have thoughts about harming my baby — I loved him beyond words since day one. 

I know it wasn’t the medication alone that helped me, however, I’m not ashamed to admit it played an important part. PPD/anxiety is serious, and getting help doesn’t make you weak or a bad mother — quite the opposite. 

Throughout this ordeal I didn’t blog because I wasn’t ready to share what I was going through. I‘ve talked openly about motherhood and my anxiety on here, but I needed distance before I could fully open up. There was the guilt too. How could I feel this way when I have a healthy and happy baby and a wonderful life? But PPD/anxiety doesn’t discriminate.

One blog post can’t cover everything, but it’s a start. I have so much more to share with you about my motherhood journey, and if you want to talk — I’m here. 

XOXO

Val