“I can’t believe I’m not excited about becoming a mom,” I confided to my doctor, tears streaming down my cheeks. The shame I felt for uttering those words to him was overwhelming. Even now, I grapple with guilt just recalling that moment.
My struggle with postpartum depression began in the final trimester of my first pregnancy. In that last month, I hardly slept, waking up six to eight times a night to relieve myself—no exaggeration. I endured debilitating back pain and my hands and feet were so swollen they were barely recognizable. Yet, the most challenging aspect was the relentless anxiety that engulfed me.
Counting down the weeks only heightened my anxiety. The moment I discovered I was pregnant, I eagerly signed up for weekly updates and scoured social media for hashtags like #12weeks and #25weeks. My life felt like an endless waiting game, and not one I enjoyed.
Anxiety has been my lifelong companion, and while some phases have been easier, my pregnancies and the postpartum period were among the hardest. I often found myself spiraling into “worst-case scenarios,” worrying about potential tragedies or life-altering events. Early in my pregnancy, I was consumed by the fear of miscarriage, especially since I was a twin and my mom had lost my sister at 20 weeks. That milestone loomed over me.
Once I reached 20 weeks, my focus shifted to labor and delivery. During one of my initial appointments, I shared my anxiety with my OB, a seasoned doctor. Unfortunately, his flippant response—“Just don’t worry so much about burning the mashed potatoes!”—felt dismissive and hurtful. I later switched doctors after he casually mentioned a concerning finding during my ultrasound and advised me against looking it up online. A tip for medical professionals: Telling anxious mothers not to Google something is not helpful.
I hated being pregnant. Some might think I’m heartless for saying so, but it’s the truth. I had this misconception that pregnancy meant indulging in cravings and skipping work. Instead, my doctor monitored my weight due to unhealthy gains, and I worked full-time right up until my induction. The worst part was hearing, “It will all be worth it when you hold your sweet baby.” Really? Would it?
At 38 weeks, I reached my breaking point. My doctor asked if I had thoughts of self-harm (I didn’t) and recommended sleep medication. I resisted because I hadn’t taken any medication since getting pregnant, but he insisted it was necessary for my well-being.
Creating life is a beautiful miracle, yet for me, it was a challenging journey filled with anxiety. I want fellow moms to know it’s perfectly normal to feel this way. It’s okay to not revel in the joys of pregnancy. I don’t wish difficult experiences on anyone, but we must be transparent about our feelings. An honest dialogue about pregnancy, anxiety, and depression is essential for reducing stigma.
If you suspect you might be experiencing postpartum depression or need support, check out Postpartum Progress. For comprehensive information on pregnancy and home insemination, NHS is an excellent resource, and for those seeking tools, Make A Mom is an authority on the subject.
Summary:
Navigating the emotional complexities of pregnancy can be challenging, especially for those dealing with anxiety and depression. It’s vital to acknowledge these feelings and seek support, as many women share similar struggles. Open discussions about mental health during pregnancy can help reduce stigma and foster understanding.