Approximately six months after I weaned my first child, I experienced a panic attack—while flying, with my son quietly sleeping in my arms. I distinctly recall glancing at my partner, panic-stricken, as my heart raced and sweat poured down my face, soaking my shirt. Unsure of how to assist, he gently took the baby from my grasp while I spiraled further into anxiety. All I yearned for was the ability to breathe; nothing else mattered. My hands trembled, and my stomach churned. I don’t even remember how I emerged from that moment, but I do recall feeling unwell and disoriented for the remainder of the day.
Following that overwhelming panic attack, these episodes continued to occur—though not frequently, they happened enough for me to feel a part of myself slipping away. I became emotional and lethargic, haunted by the sensation that I could unravel at any moment. Struggling to understand my identity as a person, let alone as a new mother, I sought help from a therapist. She diagnosed me with adjustment disorder, likely exacerbated by hormonal changes from abruptly stopping breastfeeding. During several sessions where I shed many tears, we discussed my feelings, and eventually, I devised “The Plan,” which the therapist endorsed wholeheartedly.
The Plan involved taking a break from motherhood. Writing that felt bizarre—my son was only 15 months old, and I was already seeking distance from parenting? I fought against the wave of guilt. Essentially, The Plan meant leaving my husband and our home in Colorado (where he was launching his own business) for 15 weeks to stay with my parents in California. I would return to my previous job at a physical therapy clinic, working full-time while my mother cared for my son.
That’s precisely what I did. I embraced those 15 weeks for myself. Gradually, I began to rediscover who I was—not only through reconnecting with my professional life but also through being nurtured by my mother. Each day, I returned to a warm dinner, neatly folded laundry, and the delightful cuddles of my cheerful baby.
The panic attacks ceased as suddenly as they had begun. More importantly, I had the opportunity to witness my mother care for my child with a naturalness that had evaded me since that breathless moment on the airplane. Every evening, I eagerly awaited stories of their daily adventures, like “He walked all the way to the beach today!” or “He scared me silly hiding in the mall!”
When the 15 weeks concluded, separating my mom from my son was exceptionally painful. She jokingly told me that he had become her baby, reminding me how fortunate I was to be taking him home.
To this day, my mother and son share a special bond, forged through those long days filled with sandcastles, laughter, and sunlight—days that allowed me the space to grow into my role as his mother.
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In summary, navigating the challenges of motherhood can be overwhelming, and seeking support is not a sign of weakness but rather an essential step toward self-discovery and growth. Embracing the nurturing from those around us can help in reclaiming our identities amid the chaos of parenting.