About six months after I hung up my breastfeeding cape with my first child, I found myself in a rather unexpected situation: a panic attack on an airplane, with my little one snoozing in my arms. I vividly remember glancing at my husband, eyes wide and frantic, while my heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest. Sweat dripped down my forehead, soaking my shirt. My husband, bless him, didn’t know how to react, so he simply took the baby from my arms as I spiraled into panic. All I wanted was to catch my breath. Nothing else mattered. My hands trembled, and my stomach churned. I can’t even recall how I came out of it, but I do remember feeling nauseous, disoriented, and utterly confused for the rest of the day.
After that initial panic attack, I experienced them sporadically. Not frequently, but enough for me to feel like I was gradually losing pieces of myself. I became emotional and weary, as if I could unravel at any moment. I struggled to understand who I was—not just as a mother, but as a person.
Seeking help, I visited a therapist who diagnosed me with adjustment disorder, possibly influenced by a hormonal imbalance from abruptly stopping breastfeeding. We had several sessions where I shed quite a few tears, and then one day, I devised “The Plan,” which my therapist fully supported.
The Plan was, in essence, to take a break from motherhood. It felt strange to even write that down. My son was only 15 months old, and I was already craving a pause from being a mom? Guilt threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed through. The plan involved leaving my husband and our home in Colorado—where he was busy starting his own business—for 15 weeks to stay with my parents in California. I would work full-time, covering a maternity leave at the physical therapy clinic where I had spent four years, while my mom took care of my son during the day.
And that’s exactly what I did. I took those 15 weeks for myself—yes, I know it sounds selfish, but the truth is, I slowly began to rediscover who I was. I found myself not only in the work I did with old friends but also through the nurturing care of my own mother. Each evening, I returned home to delicious home-cooked meals, neatly folded laundry, and the sweet cuddles of my very happy baby.
Surprisingly, my panic attacks ceased just as suddenly as they had begun. More importantly, I got to witness my mother mothering my child with a grace I had been lacking since that breathless moment on the airplane. Each night, I was eager to hear about their day’s adventures: “He walked all the way to the beach today!” or “He hid from me in the mall and scared the living daylights out of me!”
When the 15 weeks came to an end, saying goodbye to my mom and son was heart-wrenching. My mom playfully reminded me that he was essentially her baby now, and I was lucky she was letting me take him home.
To this day, a special bond exists between my mom and my son, forged from those long days of laughter, sandcastles, and sunshine, which gave me the space to grow into being his mom.
If you’re navigating the emotional rollercoaster of motherhood or considering home insemination, you might find helpful insights in our other posts, like the one on intracervical insemination. And for those looking for expert guidance, check out the Center for Reproductive Health—it’s a fantastic resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
Motherhood can sometimes feel overwhelming, especially after major life changes. In this piece, Mia shares her experience with panic attacks and the journey to reclaim her sense of self through a temporary separation from her child. By allowing herself the space to breathe and be mothered by her own mom, she was able to find balance and joy in her role as a mother.