Anxiety after baby
I need to get out of this car, I thought. The darkness was spinning in tight circles, squeezing the world in front of me shut. My eyes darted. I reached for the door handle, then my throat. I’d do anything to get out of this car.
The feeling started at dinner with my in-laws. It’s never fully gone, I guess, but sometimes it’s easier to hide than others. I contributed to conversation just enough to seem okay.
As the night went on, my grip on the arm of the chair got tighter and tighter – like I’d fly away if I let go.
“You got this sea bass at Costco? Wow, it’s SO good!” Grip.
“Yes, she’s sleeping more at night – finally!” Grip.
“Ice cream would be great, but then we’ve really got to go.” Grippppp.
30 hours of labor. 4 hours of pushing. C-section. All those things were nothing compared to the anxiety I was slammed with after birth and the emotional recovery postpartum. I knew it could happen. I’m a copywriter in women’s healthcare – I write about it every day. But when it happened to me, I greeted it like a stranger who showed up without warning.
My anxiety grabs me by the throat and makes my head spin. It’s like I’m always walking around upside down. I have to remind myself to breathe one inhale and exhale at a time. I feel trapped in my own body, and it’s worse when I’m home alone. It’s all I can do to call my mom, who talks me through until I either get a better hold of myself, or my husband returns.
I’m a first-time mom. I have a baby who’s joy on fire. This should be the happiest time of my life. Instead, I’m held hostage by my own body.
I’ve felt guilty admitting my anxiety. I have a baby to care for. Oh and it’s 2020 – who’s not anxious? But that night, the night in the car, was enough. Since then, I’ve been seeing a therapist, who’s shown me ways to deal. And time, of course, is a healer in itself. I’m now 4+ months postpartum, and for the first time since my little girl was born, I’m feeling like myself. I even went for a run today.
For months, I felt trapped in a tight, dark space. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but now I’m sinking my nails in, clawing my way up and out – and finally I see the sun. It’s just ahead.
-H
