Trigger warning: This article mentions suicidal ideation.

Written by Kathleen Schwarz

I’d like to say that my transition to motherhood was the most joyful time of my life, but the opposite is actually true. I did not expect that to be the case. I had done life in the right order, according to societal expectations.

After graduating from physical therapy school, I moved to Philadelphia and at age 26 started dating the man I married 3 years later. I gave birth to our first son, Ben, when I was 31. He was loved, planned for, and very much wanted. And for the most part he was an excellent baby–with one glaring exception.

Breastfeeding him was a nightmare. He was a ‘lazy nurser’ who kept losing weight, so I was tasked with the following routine: change his diaper, weigh him, feed him using a nipple shield, specific hold, and specific pillow for 30 minutes on EACH breast, change his diaper, and weigh him again. If he hadn’t gained at least 2 ounces, supplement with formula while pumping to increase my milk supply.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

After an absolutely exhausting month, I found myself sitting among a group of women in a breastfeeding support group, sobbing. I was one of the last people to share and nearly every mother who spoke before me reported what sounded like breastfeeding bliss. One of them was even wearing REAL JEANS. With buttons and everything. When it was my turn, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I explained what was happening, and how tired and ready to give up I was.

The support group leader looked at me calmly and said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but what else do you have to do with your time?”

I immediately felt the shame and embarrassment hit my cheeks, but quietly replied: “Eat? Sleep? Take a shower?” Clearly her question had been rhetorical, though, because she’d already moved on. When I told my husband what happened he called the hospital to complain, and I never went back.

I made the decision to switch to pumping/bottle feeding only, and then, when Ben was 4 months old, I started feeding him formula exclusively. And while this was a HUGE relief, I could not shake the feeling that I’d failed him in some massive way. By the time he was 8 months old I was crying every single day. I admitted this to my OB and she diagnosed me with postpartum depression and suggested I start seeing a therapist weekly, which I did for the next nine years.

When Ben was 2 I became pregnant with my second son, Charlie. I decided to avoid the possibility that history would repeat itself by starting him on formula from day one (which I have no regrets about.) What I did not plan for was the fact that his birth was traumatic.

A couple of hours after labor was induced, the epidural failed so I had no pain medication, and his heart rate was dropping so they kept forcing me into different positions despite the blinding pain. They kept telling me if I didn’t push him out quickly I was going to need a C-section. The whole experience was terrifying and resulted in flashbacks, intrusive thoughts, and anxiety so severe that I had no choice but to start taking medication in the coming weeks. This time, my doctor diagnosed me with postpartum depression AND anxiety.

All of this made the transition from one to two children almost impossible for me to handle. I was also extremely challenged by the day to day reality of mothering small children: constant noises, their never ending needs, their desire to be around or touching me constantly, and the crowded and noisy environments typical of play spaces and sports teams. Their age-appropriate tantrums and behaviors sent my own nervous system into survival mode, and I had a very hard time masking the frustration and even anger that would erupt as a result of my dysregulation.

It was sobering to realize that my reactions to my kids were mirroring that of my own mother, who’d been emotionally unstable throughout my childhood. My childhood was chaotic for many reasons, in fact, but it wasn’t until I became a mother myself that I realised I had been profoundly impacted by that.

Even though I attended weekly therapy, took all medications as prescribed, and did EMDR for trauma, the depression and anxiety only worsened as the years went on. I started to experience friction in nearly every significant relationship I had, not because I was a mom, but because I could no longer be the people pleasing overgiver they’d come to expect and rely on.

By the time my kids were 6 and 3, I was suicidal and unable to work. It was my worst nightmare. Finally, I got the correct diagnosis: complex PTSD. Though I’d initially perceived that becoming a mom set off my depression and anxiety, in reality motherhood had only exacerbated those symptoms to the point that they became unmanageable. In retrospect, I’d been depressed and anxious for the majority of my life, but the fact that I’d been so high achieving in school and in life masked it, even to me.

Getting straight As in school didn’t teach me the skills that I actually needed to know, such as emotional regulation, healthy communication, conflict resolution, and mindfulness. In fact, I used to watch Sesame Street and Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood alongside my kids and actually learn something!

Viewing my own childhood as traumatic and not minimizing its impact was the first major step toward healing. The second major piece of the puzzle was the realisation that I’m an empath, meaning that I am highly sensitive not just to my own energies and emotions but the energies and emotions of the people and environments around me, ‘crazy’ as that sounds.

Though I still had a battle to win, the very same children who’d illuminated all of my shadows became the reason I vowed to never give up fighting. I didn’t end my life in 2017, but in many ways I ended the life that was expected of me, and began a life that’s far more authentic and in alignment with my true purpose and desires.

Today, my boys are 14 and 11, and I am so incredibly blessed to coach other empaths, highly sensitive people, and family cycle breakers to heal complex trauma and learn to fully trust in themselves and the universe, without the need for lifelong therapy.

Kat Schwarz is a holistic healer, empowerment coach, and the owner of Compassionate Healing Services, a mental health company that treats mental health very differently. To learn about her Empath Empowerment Program, click here.

For a complete list of services, visit her website www.katschwarz.com

You can find her on Instagram @katschwarz_chs

If you are having suicidal thoughts or are feeling disoriented it’s important to get help immediately. If you need immediate support call Lifeline 13 11 14 (24/7).

CALL 000 for police and ambulance if you or someone else are in immediate danger.