Mom Matters - Normalizing Mental Health & Motherhood
There is a local story that is tragic and unimaginable and I can’t help but think we can and need to do better.
A 32 year old Mom who presumably had Post Partum Psychosis who does the unthinkable, I can’t even write it, that is how hard this is to comprehend, my heart aches for her children, her husband and her. It brings up the topic of Mental Health and how we need to do more in this country to normalize it, and especially for Mothers, both new and the stages of motherhood, life and how we avoid the need to accommodate each mother with self care, support and dialogue around mind/body/spirit health. Mental Health and Motherhood is completely a different experience and topic because unlike a woman or man without children, a Mother is responsible not only for her self but more importantly for her children. Her children come before her and it will be that way for her entire life (well at least while they live home with her). This demands so much from her: so much time, so much energy, so much emotional and physical labor, it is like adding triple responsibility, triple weight to carry and less ability to take care of one’s self, when that in fact should be the priority. We are expected to just do it, roll with it, and do so without breaking a sweat. I can’t sit back and talk about this tragedy, and say we need to do more and do better without sharing my own story because it is in the truth and in our experiences that we shine a light on this topic and somehow change the way we talk about Mental Health, especially when it comes to Motherhood.
Twenty Two years ago I gave birth to my son, he was our second child and came soon after his sister, being only 1 1/2 years apart. The pregnancy was normal, but the labor and delivery was unexpected, and looking back, I was not prepared (as we don’t talk about how difficult child birth and/or post partum can be. After 24 hours of Labor, I was exhausted, and they were monitoring the baby because he was showing signs of stress. They said we should do a semi emergency c section before we need to fly into the OR with a full emergency surgery under stress. My expectation of giving birth and already having gone through a full labor and ending up with surgery was shocking but we were committed to do what ever was best for the baby. The C Section was done, and we gave birth to our beautiful son, we were so happy to have a baby brother to take home to our Baby Girl. Adjusting to two was work, but in some ways the baby was so easy, what was I overwhelmed with when I had my first? A few months before getting pregnant with Cameron I had a miscarriage, it was sad but it was still early enough that it did not feel traumatic. I wish I could go back and tell that sad young mom (at loss of pregnancy) it will all work out, you will give birth to a son you will adore, and you would not have him if this did not happen. The hidden blessing I did not see because at the time it was just loss. I was sad, but I didn’t talk about it too much, I just reminded myself that most women have them, and you will be okay. Forward March…..
Our family of 4 was adjusting, I decided to leave my corporate career when Cameron arrived, while I wanted to be home with my kids, I did not realize how isolating that would feel and also how not having my own thing would impact me. Winter was a harder time having a new born, but I seemed to get through it okay. My neighbor who had 2 children would check in on me, and my mother in law became a big help with the kids, taking one while I had the other. Within months Cam was sleeping through the night like his sister, I was getting him on a schedule and that schedule and routine became our foundation and it grounded me as a Mom, and helped the babies sleep well, eat well and I was proud of my ability to do this (everyone said of wait, you’ll be up all night)—I begged to differ.
At 8 months old and a 2 year old toddler, we had sold our home, lived with my in laws and moved into a newly built home in the community we would raise our children. The neighborhood was exactly what we wanted, and the real estate move was a smart one, I even sold the house myself. I don’t know if that was a good thing for me to focus on (because I realized I needed something outside of motherhood) or if I took on too much, probably a bit of both.
A month after moving in, the plane hit the twin towers, it shook me to my core, I will never forget not knowing what to do, so later that afternoon after naps, I grabbed my 2 year old and the baby in the bucket and drove to the Church in my community to pray, I just had to get on my knees and pray.
I don’t know if this triggered the underlying feelings I had, I am guessing it did, but what I began to notice after these tragic events was that I was not feeling myself. I no longer felt joy, I felt sadness but I was still able to take care of the kids, but as far as myself, I had no motivation. I told my mom and mother in law that I was just not feeling myself, it was weird, I was so grateful, I have this beautiful life, these beautiful babies, this beautiful home, in this affluent and quaint community, how can you possibly feel down I would say to myself. My mother in law was no stranger to Mental Health, she talked about being in intensive daily care in Boston as she had to deal with Trauma from her childhood, she encouraged me to call my OB/GYN. My mother (who was more old school and a DIY healer and dealer encouraged me as well, as did my sisters who were both moms (but I do not recall them getting help when they had babies). I called Hope, my doctor in Boston, and I explained that obviously the events of 9/11 are tragic and sad but I am thinking my sadness is beyond this (it felt like blues, nothing drastic, I just kept saying, I don’t feel myself).
She was swift in her response, and said she was going to set me up with “the big guns” even if it is mild PPD, we need to make sure you are being treated. She referred me to one of the top Psychiatrist at her Harvard teaching Hospital—was I over reacting or was this necessary, I never really figured that one out at the time (but now I know it was the first time I reached out for help). Fortunately I saw him weekly, and in that began to feel better as the weeks progressed. Ironically I found out (a surprise) that I was pregnant with my 3rd child, this was a shock, and I felt like it was the last thing I needed, I prayed to God to make it work out in his will (maybe I’ll have another miscarriage but if this is meant to be God, you will help me grow this baby). I was in my early 30’s, and my mindset was different, as was my understanding of Mental Health and in the next paragraph I want to share what I thought back then, and how damaging that is as a woman and mom. I didn’t know what I didn’t know…. The stigma was part of my problem….
Mental Health was a scary topic and something I did not want attached to me. I was “normal” or so I thought, I was successful and self made, and the women in my family were born to breed, we had babies, and we had this natural way with babies. After my first was born, I built my confidence as a Mother, I was doing it and I was doing a great job at it. So much that I was able to get my first child to sleep through the night at 9 weeks, I dedicated everything to being there for my baby girl. I remember hidden under all the pretty pictures, wonderful moments and dedicated mother to her child, was this rattling anxiety and fear that I would push down, I did not know what it was, but what ever it was it could not surface because I need to be here for my baby girl and take the best care of her that I can (I think most all moms know this feeling, especially with your first child). When my doctor said Post Partum Depression, and referred me to a Psychiatrist, I felt some shame (even thou both my mom and MIL would tell me they were proud of me for speaking up and taking action. Just the word Psych made me uncomfortable, and now I had to visit him in his home office in Newton, an hour drive away. This was my secret, that only my husband, my mother, MIL and sisters knew—no one else could know that I did not have all my shit together, because I worked so hard to prove that I did. My MIL offered to watch the babies while I went to my appointments, but I decided to go early morning, when my husband could stay with the kids until I got home—this felt more comfortable to me and made me more accountable to take responsibility for myself. I would sneak out of my garage in my car, did the neighbors see me, did they think I was going to the gym or what did they think I was doing, I felt judged even thou no one was looking, I was looking at how it might look on the outside. The garage door would go up, and I would drive out at 6am to make my 7am appointment—am I the only one in this neighborhood that has to go see someone because I don’t feel like myself? The office was at his home with a separate entrance, I would pull up and hope no one would see me (like anyone would but this was my real emotions at the time), it was so out of my comfort zone, I had so many preconceived notions that added to my shame. As I sat in the waiting room, I felt weird, strange and awkward, this is where crazy people come, not me…. am I a crazy person now even thou I did not do anything crazy? The person after me could have been the most average guy, but in my mind he was crazy, and I wondered why he was here and I felt different from him, listen, I’m just here because I am feeling a little bit down (I would say to myself). I had a lot to learn about mental health and I am thankful my perceptions have changed greatly, and that we all have a need in our lifetime to address mental health be it situational or part of our baseline, I think every person has something at some point in life they need to address, and we are all best at addressing it proactively, not as a problem.
I am sure I spent my first few appointments trying to impress the doctor, he was a big time Doctor, a bit of a Nerd, but kind and intellectual. As I got comfortable as weeks went on, he talked about medication and how normalizing it is, in light of being pregnant again, I was feeling better and he did not end up prescribing anything. We were prepared that I might need to consider it after baby #3 is born. By the holidays my mood was better, I was settling into the idea of another baby and leaning into my faith, God will guide me, and my Dad, my angel will be there for me too. Man I miss my Dad, I wish Papa had met my babies, this was a can of worms I never opened up that residing inside of me—the TRAUMA of losing my Dad suddenly (calling 911 and watching him lay limp in our driveway was devastating, I never sought treatment after that). His heart condition in my childhood caused great anxiety for me, I was always afraid he would drop dead at anytime, it is a scary way to live.
This situational time, Post Partum that I did not notice until months after birth was the first time I actually asked for help and considered mental health—it would begin my journey of healing even though I had no idea it was just the beginning of baby steps into the discovery of mental health and how I would run from it as much as I could until I could not run anymore.
As a young Mom I felt overwhelmed, what I did not know is that I had severe ADHD and Anxiety, I put support in place thankfully, but it took years before I really knew and accepted my vulnerabilities, maybe I could change. I hid them in things like work, alcohol, food, performing, procrastinating and at times wondering, WTF is wrong with me. I worked hard to cover it and make up for it, I did not even know what it was, I just pushed harder and buried it deeper.
In my early 40’s it was the first time that I actually put myself first, self care became the foundation, as I discovered Yoga, the layers of armor I built began to open and the layers of “should" and “shame" began to peel off too. I had such a great transformation at this time, this is when I actually created Living HIPP, a positive lifestyle brand (Happy Inspired Productive Peaceful). Little did I know that this brand became tracks for me to run on in the next decade as I would encounter adversity in business, life and difficult loss in these areas. I will write more about this as I update a chapter of Living HIPP, it is all about Mental Health, Women’s Health and how we need to shine a light on this as part of the growth experience, not something to feel shame over, or embarrassed about or want to run and hide from. The decade after Living HIPP was filled with so many incredible moments, I do feel blessed, however, I want to be clear that in this last decade after writing the book, I personally have been diagnosed, treated and live with the following: ADHD, Anxiety, Addiction & Depression. I am not any of those things (I struggled with that internally), they are just part of my experience, and it is Living HIPP and my personal growth that has allowed me to address and accommodate them. While I am being treated and feel better, they are always part of me and that is why I talk about “Living HIPP” not because we all should be Happy all the time, but because we each can address our life like a business, and create a vision of what we want, and address our discontents. The biggest disservice we are doing as women in not sharing our stories and not supporting each other more (this are personal situations and not everything needs to be shared, but it helps to be a truth teller, and to be real all while having vision and creating a life that accommodates our body/mind/spirit. We push for doing more, performance and super mom and super woman, I call BULL SHIT! Retreat and Rest are necessary for most everyone, especially Moms—women (and all humans) crave more balance, which requires more support, more mind/body/spirit experiences and more grace and permission to just be.
In the wake of tragedy after tragedy, I can sit back and say we need to get better, or I can speak up and share my own story and how these challenges actually do encourage a better, happier, whole version of me (which was a process and was always about progress, not perfection).
It is time for women to Rise Up, and in order to do so, we need to surrender and release and be brave enough to say, I need help and wave that white flag. We need to Rest Up as we Rise Up!