Real-life story: A mother's battle with mental health

From a guest blogger in the community

My name is Ivana. I am a registered and licensed pharmacy technician who works out of a hospital in Hamilton. I live in Oakville and have three children.

When I got pregnant with my first child, my psychiatrist—whom I had been seeing regularly, after I had waited for 18 months after an initial referral to get an appointment—warned me about how pregnancy and postpartum could severely impact my mental health. As a woman diagnosed with PTSD, generalized anxiety disorder, and major depressive disorder, this felt like a fair enough warning. What I didn’t expect was how the constant nausea during early pregnancy would feed into the feelings of helplessness that were already there. What I also didn’t expect was that even though I was beyond excited to be a mom, and knew for a long time that it was what I wanted, I felt terrified and trapped by motherhood in those early days, which made the anxiety nearly impossible to cope with.

My daughter was a planned pregnancy. It brought up feelings of guilt for me because, at the time, I felt like no child “should” have a mom who is battling mental illness or who is medicated because of it. I felt like she deserved better, even though I was doing my best. I was going to my therapy appointments, I was taking my medications as directed, and I was seeking help and support when it was available through friends and family as well. I was stuck in this stigmatized mindset that I would somehow be a subpar mom if I was still dealing with mental illness and was medicated after having children. Society’s expectation is that moms are meant to be perfect and have it all together—for themselves and their families, too.

I gave birth to that sweet girl four years ago. She just started school in September, and she is as smart as she is beautiful. But it took me nearly six months to feel fully bonded to this girl of mine after she was born. It was a hard road to get there for both of us. From the sleep deprivation to her colic to her not gaining weight and needing a prescription formula to supplement, I felt like a failure because breastfeeding was ultimately unsuccessful, and it felt like no matter how hard I tried, I could never keep her content for more than 30 minutes at a time before another round of screaming and crying began.

I remember feeling isolated from my past life and friends, and taking on a completely new identity as a mom that I couldn’t escape from, even though there were moments I desperately wanted to. I remember resenting my husband, who is a pilot, because while I was left at home with an infant that I hadn’t yet bonded with, who would be screaming and crying for hours every day, he “got to” go to work and stay in hotels across the world for days at a time, getting to take a break from parenting while I couldn’t. This is the mindset I was in.

The author, Ivana, today.

In the four years since the birth of my daughter, I have now had three children. I also have a son who is only 15 months younger than she is, and I recently gave birth to my youngest in June of this year. Each time, I dreaded how I would feel postpartum. I was scared I wouldn’t bond with my children again. I was terrified that I wouldn’t be taken seriously if I told doctors I was struggling. I was scared that even if I had expressed feelings of hopelessness, I would be subjected to spend 72 hours in a hospital under observation and would be taken from my children.

My children each had regular appointments throughout my pregnancies and well into their first few years of life. Well-visits are common and thorough. What doesn’t feel as common and thorough is care for moms after giving birth. You get discharged from the hospital, have a checkup after six weeks to see that you’ve physically healed after delivery, and get asked about which birth control method you’d prefer. If you’re lucky, you’ll get asked if you’ve had thoughts about harming yourself or your baby so that the practitioner has done their due diligence.

The entire experience of pregnancy through to motherhood and beyond has been a huge learning curve. In hindsight, I was lucky to have already been connected with a specialist who knew my history and mental health and who I could reach out to if and when needed. Many women aren’t in the same position.

Mental health in Ontario, particularly, is so severely underfunded that waitlists to be seen by a specialist can take up to two years. There needs to be more done for new moms during and after pregnancy. Weekly follow-ups, even if just over the phone, or more accessible resources, such as classes and groups for moms and babies to be able to get together and support one another, could make a world of difference.

There are still days when I can hardly recognize myself, but I’ve learned to reach out and ask for help much sooner, whether it’s from friends or family. I have realized that it truly does take a village to raise a child and that there is no shame in asking for, and accepting help when it’s offered. There are days that I still feel like I’ve lost myself in motherhood, and struggle with identifying as anything other than “Mom” to my three children, but I also now know it’s okay to feel that way. Radically accepting that not every day needs to be perfect, for me to be a good mom still has helped tremendously, and so has medication. I’m not embarrassed to admit that anymore.

If you or someone you love is struggling with thoughts of harm, please call 9-1-1, or COAST (Crisis Outreach And Support Team) at 1-877-825-9011.