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Becoming a mother made my anxiety worse. Or was it vice versa?

Why is there no real preparation for motherhood? No one can ever tell you how it feels to have your own child. Mothers, you know what I am talking about. Fathers, some of you know what I mean, too.

Now for the relatively normal woman, being a mother is indeed a challenge. It changes your life. You no longer come first. You suddenly (even though you had 9 months to think about it) find yourself responsible for keeping a tiny, helpless baby alive and well. On the other hand, for an anxiety driven woman like me, becoming a mother is a recipe for DISASTER.

Don’t get me wrong. I did okay. But remember who I was? I was one of the WALKING WOUNDED. I functioned, but I felt like I was dying inside. This was the responsibility of my lifetime. This was a challenge that was about to nearly consume me.

Beth (not her real name) slept in our room because we had only one bedroom. Every time I heard her disposable diaper rustle, I woke up. (In those days they had to be fastened with a safety pin…can you imagine?  I used cotton balls dipped in a dish of water to do the tushy wiping…no wet wipes back then either..sorry…I digress.)  It didn’t matter that I had a choice to put her crib in the living room. I was not about to sleep more than inches from her crib. I would have slept even lighter if Beth were not in our room, because I would have imagined her needing me even more often than her diaper squished.

I had a girlfriend living in our apartment building that had 2 young children. She was around all the time and she really helped me with the day to day mommy things. We’d take walks with the kids. My day was filled with meals, naps, outings and laundry. I even had to cook dinner somewhere in there. (Uh oh, don’t let me get started on the ridiculous idea that stay at home moms are supposed to take care of the kids, the house, shop AND COOK DINNER!)

I managed, but I was miserable. To me, this was like pulling teeth. I dragged myself through the day feeling dull and bleary.  I thought this was the way all mothers felt. I really wish I could go back and live this over, with the help of my paxil and neurontin. I might actually have had fun most of the time. (Being a grandmother and feeling well is a close second, I must say. And I get to give the children back when they get to be too much for me!)

When our son was born 3 and a half years later, I was sent  further the edge. He cried all the time in the hospital. I was inconsolable and so depressed, watching him cry all day through the observation window. It seemed at first like postpartum depression. But it never went away.

Being an anxious mother of 2 children was not going to be easy.

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Comments»

1. lawchic - December 8, 2005

My mom always tells me the best thing about being a grandmother is losing all the fears you had with your own kids and being able to have fun with them. I think it’s something that all mother’s go through, of course, some have more severe problems than others. I’m glad you’ve help for your anxiety!

2. Jeanne - August 28, 2006

I remember the cloth diaper days, and with our kids it was listening to the old-fashioned rubber pants rustle both at change time, and when the kids would waddle around the house.