When my first child, Ellie, was born, I was 23. I had a complicated and disappointing birth experience. What was supposed to be a peaceful home birth ended up a terrifying C-section and many hours separation between my daughter and myself after her birth. Due to what I see as a perfect storm of circumstances I began to suffer - soon after her birth - from severe post-partum anxiety. I was depressed too but the real disabling pallor that now colored my every moment was a paralyzing hypochondria. My primary concern was Ellie and her health but eventually I began to fear for my own as well. I was insane with a belief that Ellie would develop an illness so severe that she would either be hospitalized (and I wouldn't be able to be with her) or die.
Every cough, fever or stomach bug would send me into a hyper-vigilant state of sleeplessness. I would watch over her, day and night, afraid to even move my body, to breathe deeply. I would count her breaths in the dark. I would examine her skin, did she look dehydrated? Was that rash perhaps indicative of something serious? Strep maybe? I was regularly convinced that she had meningitis, influenza, whooping cough, that she was dehydrated, starved of oxygen, constipated, infected, diseased. And to validate my fears, she was a seemingly sickly baby and kid (she was big and robust and actually recovered normally and was never hospitalized) but she did have asthma, some allergies, and lots of odd rashes, unexplained prolonged high fevers and every bad cold that came her way.
Every cough, fever or stomach bug would send me into a hyper-vigilant state of sleeplessness. I would watch over her, day and night, afraid to even move my body, to breathe deeply. I would count her breaths in the dark. I would examine her skin, did she look dehydrated? Was that rash perhaps indicative of something serious? Strep maybe? I was regularly convinced that she had meningitis, influenza, whooping cough, that she was dehydrated, starved of oxygen, constipated, infected, diseased. And to validate my fears, she was a seemingly sickly baby and kid (she was big and robust and actually recovered normally and was never hospitalized) but she did have asthma, some allergies, and lots of odd rashes, unexplained prolonged high fevers and every bad cold that came her way.
The older Ellie got the milder the anxiety was. When she was four and a half, her little brother Edan was born. This time, I had another failed home birth but did delivery him vaginally in the hospital. That small victory was enough to make me wonder if perhaps I wouldn't have the same crippling anxiety with this baby boy. But, soon after his birth it began. I could feel it coming on and there was nothing I could do to shield myself from it's onslaught.
And then there was a shift - out of nowhere. I couldn't have explained this at the time but now I recognize that I had a hormonal shift - I new wave washed over me - this one was a calm, trusting sense. A oxytocin-trust-faith kinda of thing. And although my fears were not entirely abated, I could quiet the disasterizer in my head. I could accept that we would be the ones to miss the rare disaster. I believed that I could tell the difference between sick and SICK. I still worried. I still went to the pediatrician more than I needed to and I read too many infant books but I was normal again.
I have never known why I suffered from this debilitating neurosis although I suspect it falls into line with a soldier's PTSD diagnosis. Something was thrown off coarse for me in the hospital with my daughter and it took a long time to realign. When my third and fourth children were born (both at home, peacefully) I was hyper aware that the worry would return and the first couple of nights after their births I did feel the fear lurking around my bed. But it didn't take hold.
Last night my three year old had a fever of 103.7 and although I was lovingly concerned I was in no way worried. I gave him some ibuprofen, snuggled him and went peacefully to sleep, knowing he was going to be alright.
And then there was a shift - out of nowhere. I couldn't have explained this at the time but now I recognize that I had a hormonal shift - I new wave washed over me - this one was a calm, trusting sense. A oxytocin-trust-faith kinda of thing. And although my fears were not entirely abated, I could quiet the disasterizer in my head. I could accept that we would be the ones to miss the rare disaster. I believed that I could tell the difference between sick and SICK. I still worried. I still went to the pediatrician more than I needed to and I read too many infant books but I was normal again.
I have never known why I suffered from this debilitating neurosis although I suspect it falls into line with a soldier's PTSD diagnosis. Something was thrown off coarse for me in the hospital with my daughter and it took a long time to realign. When my third and fourth children were born (both at home, peacefully) I was hyper aware that the worry would return and the first couple of nights after their births I did feel the fear lurking around my bed. But it didn't take hold.
Last night my three year old had a fever of 103.7 and although I was lovingly concerned I was in no way worried. I gave him some ibuprofen, snuggled him and went peacefully to sleep, knowing he was going to be alright.
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