On a quiet Sunday afternoon in April 2018, I found myself slumped on the couch, feeling the weight of a hangover from a night out with my husband. The thought of playing with our 10-month-old daughter filled me with guilt; I lacked the energy and clarity. My head throbbed, and as I gingerly touched the swollen bump on my forehead, I couldn’t shake the feeling of confusion. What had happened? How had I gotten hurt?
As my husband entertained our daughter on the floor, I forced myself to eat a slice of pizza, hoping to settle my churning stomach. “I’m such a bad mother,” I thought. “I shouldn’t have gone out and drank like that. What’s wrong with me?” Just as I attempted another bite, an unsettling sensation washed over me. My hands began to tremble, my tongue felt swollen, and my throat constricted. The rapid thud of my heart echoed in my chest.
“I need help,” I said to my husband, clutching my abdomen as tears filled my eyes. “I can’t breathe.” This wasn’t the first time I’d faced panic after our daughter’s birth; I had experienced mild episodes before, always comforted by my husband’s calming words: “Take a deep breath. Look at me. Everything is okay.” But this time felt different—this time, it wasn’t okay.
As my breathing quickened, I felt tingling in my lips, and my face went numb. My fingers curled uncontrollably, as if they were in a vise. When my husband tried to assist me, I collapsed. My body felt paralyzed.
In a state of panic, he called 911. “Something’s wrong with my wife. She can’t move or talk,” he said, his voice trembling. He had always reassured me not to panic unless he did, but now it was clear he was scared. An EMT soon arrived, checking my blood pressure and urging me to breathe. “No kidding, I’m trying!” I thought, as I glanced at our daughter, her wide eyes filled with confusion and fear.
“Is this the last time I’ll see her?” I wondered, tears streaming down my face.
I was carried down the stairs, unable to walk, my hands still clenched against my chest. My husband stood outside the ambulance, comforting our daughter, assuring me everything would be alright. But as the doors shut, I was engulfed in fear—both physically and emotionally frozen.
Upon arrival at the ER, the medical staff informed me that I had experienced a severe panic attack. Gradually, I regained feeling in my limbs and craved water. Alone in the room, I felt isolated. My mother was home with our daughter, but my husband and father arrived soon after, their faces reflecting relief as they learned I was okay. I realized I had needed help for a long time.
The very next day, I consulted my doctor and detailed my experience. “Severe panic attacks are no joke,” he said, understanding my fears. He prescribed anxiety medication—something I had vowed never to take. But it was time to stop battling my issues alone. Acknowledging my struggles didn’t make me a bad mother; it made me a better one.
As I began to visit my doctor regularly, I discovered that my anxiety was triggered by arguments with my husband, drinking, and worries about my daughter. While everyone’s triggers differ, identifying mine was crucial for my recovery. Strangely enough, that panic attack became a catalyst for positive change in my life. I sought help, motivated to be the best mother I could be and ensure my family never faced such a situation again. I started exercising, reducing alcohol intake, and incorporating nightly meditations into my routine. I learned to be kinder to myself and found a newfound sense of liberation.
This experience also revitalized my marriage. My husband and I had often argued, primarily due to my anxious tendencies. He began to grasp how anxiety affected my thinking, and we openly discussed its impact on us both. He practiced patience, while I learned to manage my worries before voicing them.
For anyone feeling isolated in their postpartum anxiety, know that you are not alone. Motherhood, while rewarding, can be incredibly challenging. There’s immense pressure to handle everything with grace—the stress, sleepless nights, and relentless worry can be overwhelming. It’s essential to speak up to family, friends, and healthcare providers. Seeking help is not a sign of weakness but rather a step towards strength. You don’t want to wait until something drastic prompts action, like sitting in an ambulance.
You are a mother, and your strength lies in recognizing when you need support.
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Summary
A severe panic attack marked a turning point in my life, prompting me to seek help for anxiety that I had previously ignored. The experience not only improved my mental health but also strengthened my marriage and parenting. By confronting my fears and understanding my triggers, I transformed my approach to motherhood and found a supportive partnership with my husband.