Last night, I had an epiphany about anxiety. My youngest son, who will be 2 in exactly a week from today, has a bad cough. A barking, aggressive cough that stops him in his tracks. It sounds like he’s gasping for air, frustrating and scared, and I’m helpless. During the day, this is scary enough, but at night, it’s pure terror. I feel my postpartum anxiety resurfacing.
Feeling Helpless
He sleeps in his own room, and from experience of past illnesses, it makes it worse for us to go in a lot. If I try to go pick him up when he’s half asleep, it ends up scaring him more, making him scream, and in turn, cough more. So, I try to let him be.
I hold the monitor as close as possible to my ear, on full volume, desperately listening to him breathing. Lying on the floor by his door, I am trying to hear if it sounds normal. I question my own hearing, so my husband is right with me, doing the same. He seems okay…he’s okay. He’s okay, right? Or is he?
All night, my anxiety took over. I was absolutely terrified that something was going to happen to him. What if he stops breathing? Is his breathing getting shallow? What if he doesn’t cry out for help? What if I fall asleep, and he suddenly gets worse?
Anxiety Resurfaced
I have been working on my anxiety for a long time, since I was diagnosed with postpartum anxiety following the birth of my second son. But I am positive that I had undiagnosed PPA with my first son. Which led to PTSD around feeding, newborn days, and more.
Anxiety can be all-consuming, but I’ve been working on it, and I am at a much calmer, more joyful place in my motherhood and my life. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t rear it’s ugly head sometimes. And sick kids are a huge trigger.
What Led Me Here
When I had postpartum anxiety, I would have severe, very realistic nightmares. I would have hypnagogic hallucinations, where you think you see something in your actual room. It isn’t the first time I’ve experienced these sleep-induced visualizations, but when it involves people coming into your house to take your children away, it’s on another level. I was terrified to fall asleep, convinced something would happen to my boys. My love was presenting itself in the form of anxiety and control.
So I sought out help. I went to a therapist, I did my own research, and I even became a certified life and wellness coach. I realized that I wanted to help myself, but I also wanted to help others in a similar situation. Motherhood after infertility caught me off guard. I expected to slip into it easily, but it was more complicated than I expected.
My Epiphany
Last night, I realized another level of anxiety that hadn’t been clear before. I have known for a while that anxiety can be controlling, it wants to have its hold on me. But what I didn’t see is that anxiety also gives me a false sense of control. As if my anxiety is keeping my children safe.
It brought me back to my being postpartum. Deep in my state of anxiety, I started to believe that if I stopped worrying and went to sleep, my son would suddenly not be okay. He was clearly okay. Although he was congested and frustrated, he was sleeping and breathing well. He was okay. But my anxiety told me that he was only okay because I was still awake and concerned. If I dared to sleep, he couldn’t possibly stay okay.
It Can Be Okay
Luckily, I have a lot of experience and tools at my disposal. So I calmed myself down, and finally got some sleep. Not a lot, I still checked the monitor a good amount, but not as obsessively as I once would have.
Anxiety is a beast. Motherhood after infertility is a lot to deal with. But you do not have to do this alone. Let me help you. I promise, you can learn these tools too. You can replace your fears and anxiety with true joy and connection.
