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I was having an anxiety attack. One that left me desperate to breathe and panicky from the pain. The kind of pain that I never want to feel again, that I would rather go through ten hours of active labor than another minute of this pain, the kind that leaves me banging on the kitchen counter in anger and frustration because it hurts SO BAD and why oh why is it taking so long to pass?
This is the third anxiety attack I've had since Kalei died, and each one is getting more painful and takes longer to pass. In fact, this one took so long that the Knight got worried and ran to wake up our neighbor, who is a nurse. Thankfully, it finally passed not long after she walked in the door.
I'm taking steps to lower the level of stress in my life and make sure that I am taking care of myself. I can't make my home a loving and warm place when I am snapping at everyone because I am stressed and rushed and wondering how I am going to do everything that I volunteered to take on. I'm learning how to say "No" and I'm learning how to literally schedule time into my day when I do something for me and only me, and I've recently fallen in love with yoga.
Why am I sharing this? I'm not sure. Maybe because I'm frustrated with living in a society that believes fully in the myth of the "super mom" and expects every mother to be one. Maybe I feel saddened by all the new mothers out there, who don't realize that after their babies are born, its okay to have a messy house and no makeup and laundry piled up. Maybe I wish our culture would value mothers for the work that they do, like other cultures do. Instead, we are expected to be perfect mothers and women while being looked down upon for being a "stay at home mom" and not bringing home a paycheck. Never mind that we are raising our future society, never mind that because all we do is "sit at home all day watching soap operas and eating bon bons".
Maybe I am wondering how many other mothers out there feel the same way, and are afraid to say anything for fear of being criticized.
In other countries, women have six months of paid maternity leave, then usually fathers have six months of paid paternity leave, so that the first year of a child's life is spent with his or her parents. Meanwhile, women in our country had to fight and fight for six weeks of unpaid maternity leave. So just when you've finally got breastfeeding established, just when you finally start to feel healed, just when you are finally getting the hang of this mothering thing enough where you can actually sit back and start to enjoy your baby, you have to hand him over to someone else to raise or else you lose your job.
The way our society treats its mothers, children, and families in general is disgusting. And I am no longer going to fall into that trap. I refuse to live the "super mom" myth. I will only direct my energy towards things that are important to me, not to what society dictates should be important. Instead of wearing myself thin, I am going to take care of myself and nourish my body and soul.
The pain I feel when I have an anxiety attack is something that I never want to feel again. But it is nothing compared to the pain I would feel if I realized that I helped raise my daughters into believing that they have to be perfect, have impeccable homes, and give every bit of their energy and soul to other people while leaving nothing for themselves.
For my family, it stops here.
