Mother vs. Monster

It is harder.

It is so much harder dealing with my illness, and the anxiety that walks hand in hand, now that I have a baby.

I don't think I ever thought it would be easier as a mother, but I hadn't imagined it'd be this much harder. And my heart hurts a lot admitting that. I keep hearing outsiders wonder, 'Why would you have a baby if you can't take care of it properly?' And that's how the Monster makes me feel.

I had surgery 5 weeks ago, and that's when my current spiral (a term Google taught me, very similar to 'falling off the wagon' but for someone who before had their mental illness in check) began. I still don't know why this surgery, and everything surrounding it, felt so different...so much worse. This was my third Laporoscopy and the first two went swimmingly! Of course it's natural to be anxious before you're about to be sliced open, but I was fairly confident going into this one. More then confident, I was excited, knowing that this surgery would bring me relief from my physical illness, and that would make mothering even more wonderful.

The hospital policies had changed a bit since my last surgery, and that threw me off. I didn't get my IV (always the worst part for me) until I was in the OR instead of in my pre-op room where my husband was there to hold my hand. The newness lit the anxious match. The anesthetist missed my first vein and the flop sweats and creepy crawlies kicked in. And this time, I honestly don't know why, I fought going under. Suddenly I hated that sleepy high! This was also when I realized for the very first time (due to the tickle on my nose from the oxygen mask) that they strap your wrists to the table, and had the drugs not kicked in when they did, I would have been on the floor at that point.

So I went under in a panic, and that's how I woke up. Coming in and out of sleep, not knowing where I was...a nurse had to find my purse and rummage through for my Ativan. And that was where it all started, this 5 weeks of feeling like a shitty mom thanks to the Anxiety Monster.

While I was in surgery I had an IUD put back in. The idea was to stunt my cycle as soon as my insides had been cleared of all current Endometriosis, in hopes of warding off new growths for as long as possible. This particular IUD releases progesterone, which was all fine and dandy when I had one 2 years ago, but it turns out having a baby can permanently FUCK up your natural hormones...and my postpartum hormones instantly clashed with the IUD hormones. And when I say clash, I mean more of a war. A blood bath of a war leaving nothing but destruction in its path.

The first night after surgery I woke up in the midst of a panic attack. This is called a nocturnal attack, they are horrifying, and this one was triggered by a super strange (not necessarily a nightmare) dream that I could not keep myself awake from. In all my anxious years, Id never experienced an attack triggered by a bad dream. It was a full blown run to the bathroom floor, get the garbage can ready, cold cloth, frantic texting attack. The same thing happened every night afterwards. At first I blamed the painkillers. But it only takes one good attack to start the spiral.

If I felt an attack brewing 13 months ago, I would drop whatever I was doing, I would take the Ativan, I would take my sweet time laying on the floor, I would call in sick, and I would sleep for hours until the panic hangover passed. But 13 months ago I didn't have a baby.

Two weeks ago an attack came out of nowhere (that's kind of a lie, I was super nauseous, so I'm sure that was the trigger) while I was feeding my baby his nap time bottle. We were just sitting on the couch watching the last night's Bachelorette, and I kept telling myself to ignore the hot prickles and the pounding chest. The second you at all acknowledge the Monster though, he just tightens his grip. Suddenly I was sure I was about to throw up and/or shit my pants and/or pass out, and his bottle lands on the floor next to where I sit him and run the the toilet. Of course he crawls in after me with absolutely no idea, as I call my dad who's upstairs in his office, and ask him to come finish nap time. And then I bawl.

Panicking and bawling because what the fuck would I have done if we lived on our own, or my dad wasn't home to look after my baby while I was dying in the bathroom? It is MY job to give him his bottle and rock him to sleep, and for the first time since becoming a mother, the Monster was robbing me of that. Robbing me blind.

Over the next few weeks, I continued to wake up sweating and pounding and frantically trying to keep awake out of weird dreams. Our son isn't confidently sleeping through the night still, so as I'm grabbing my glasses and my phone and my tummy pillow to run to the toilet, Id also wake my husband up to let me know that he had to be on call if the baby woke up. Again, that's my job.

The nocturnal attacks murdered my confidences and engrained a sense of anxiety in my brain again. I was growing afraid to go to sleep, and the attacks started happening during the day too. Being a mom means being a receptacle for guilt. Our baby had a rough delivery which kept me from holding him for hours, and that's a guilt I honestly don't think I'll ever overcome. Every mother (parent) experiences guilt revolving around what you are and aren't feeding your baby, whether you've got them on the right schedule, whether you should go back to work or not. Since becoming a mother though, no parenting choice or incident or judgement has made me feel anywhere near as guilty as the Monster has.

Some days it feels like my baby is spending more time in his crib with Bubble Guppies on, and I'm spending more time on the bathroom floor telling myself to just breathe, then we're spending time together. And that guilt is crushing. It got to a point where my husband had to take a few days off work because my dad was away for business, and I NEEDED someone else around just in case it struck while I had the baby. And that made me feel pathetic.

It is so much harder, being sick and being anxious now that I am a mother. However, this baby has me far more motivated to climb out of this panic pit, then I ever have been before. The Anxiety Monster crawls between me and my baby, and I've never wanted revenge as desperately as I do now.

So I did a lot of research, and talked to my doctor. Nocturnal panic attacks (whether you have a preexisting disorder or not) are on the list of the IUD side effects. No, I never experienced that side effect the first time I had an IUD in, but my natural hormones were in a completely different state back then. So a week ago I had it taken out. I am back on my original birth control (hello, high school Jorja!) and will take it constantly for 3 months, before reassessing the situation. I have a RAGING period now, but no weird dreams I can't wake up from, and no desperate attacks since.

Now all that's let to do is stay conscious, stay brave, and continue to work through the lingering anxiety that always follows a hugs episode. As luck would have it, my baby and I leave for a week away with my mother up north at 6:30am tomorrow, so the timing of my anxiety recovery is in no way ideal.

I know the Monster wants to travel with us, and I just need to be aware of that, and accept it. I will believe that taking as many Ativans as I need to survive the flights and the days away from my comfy place, is totally acceptable and we can worry about weaning off it again once we are back home safe. I will not feel like a pathetic failure of a mother is I need my mother's help to survive these next few days without my husband. I will be brave, and soon enough it'll all be ok.

The battle continues, maybe it will continue forever between me and the Monster. But now I am a mother, and that makes it all very different.