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.
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