Good Moms Have Scary Thoughts

I couldn’t hold him the whole first week he was in the NICU because I kept having a reoccurring nightmare that I would drop him and his head would splatter like an egg. I couldn’t talk to anyone about it because the one time I did, I was reported to CPS.

I don’t feel any connection to this baby. Why don’t I feel the “I never knew love until I became a mom” feeling?
They had to sedate me during an emergent c-section. I don’t even remember them pulling him out or holding him afterwards. I woke up the next day- I didn’t have a large belly and there was a baby in the room.
I yelled at my baby because he wouldn’t stop crying. I felt like throwing him to make him stop.
My partner’s life has not changed and I’m trapped to this baby because I’m breast feeding. He gets a break by going to work every day. I never get to leave.
My partner doesn’t understand why I get so upset when the baby cries. We fight more now.
My OB handed me a sheet of therapists after I scored high on the postpartum screen. “What you’re feeling is completely normal but feel free to reach out to any of these recommended therapists if you want.” I was so mentally paralyzed that I didn’t even know what to do with that sheet or how to filter out who to call on a list of 25. I stared at that sheet daily for 2 weeks before calling 1, only to call back and cancel the next day.
I sat crying by myself in my closet saying aloud “This isn’t right. I’m not okay” but didn’t know how to get help.
I texted my spouse while on maternity leave “Today is the first day I can honestly say I hate my life.”
I considered running away or dropping the baby off at the ER.
I don’t want to be a mom. I’m not meant to do this. I can’t do this.
I’m scared that if I have another child, I’ll never come out of this black hole.

I hate being a mother. I fucking hate it. I have zero patience. Nothing is right. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m too tired to think and I have no energy to do what my kids need.The worst part is, I don’t even care. They scream and I try not to listen. I hate everything about this. I am not cut out to be a mom. I’m sure my kids hate me too. I know I’m depressed or something but I’m afraid to tell anyone what I am thinking. They will think I am crazy, for sure. Maybe I am.

Sometimes I want to disappear for a week or so, so my husband could see how hard it is to be a mom. The invisible labor of being a mom and a woman is the heaviest weight I carry. I try to be aware of this. But it’s still there. I feel it physically, mentally and emotionally. I just wish he could understand.

When my first baby was born, I had PPA. But I had no idea. I wouldn’t let anyone hold my baby. I didn’t sleep for the first 5 days for fear that he would stop breathing. Every time I closed my eyes I saw horrible things happen to him (dropping him on his head, falling down stairs, car accidents)… horribly graphic things. My body was in a constant state of fight or flight. On day 5 of no sleep, I broke down sobbing and called my mother, stepmother, and 2 sisters to come watch my baby along with my husband. I trusted no less than 5 people to watch him while I slept. Convinced something horrible would happen. That was when my husband intervened and called my doctor for psychiatric help. I was in such a state of shock from how much I loved the little being, I couldn’t fathom anybody else being able to protect him like I could. I felt, truly, psychotic. And I took a picture of myself on that 5th day, so I can always remember. It’s raw and real. I look at it when I need strength. And I’d be happy to submit it if it would help clear the stigma.

I don’t have anxious thoughts about my toddler dying, but about myself. I ruminate about how I would have to leave my child behind and all bad things happen to him if I were not there to protect him. Also, I have intrusions about how I would choose my own death and how that would impact my child, as people would talk about me and pity him.

I just about threw my son at my husband because he hurt so much to try and latch. Sleep deprived, frustrated, sore, and sad, I didn’t know what to do. I pump now and bottle feed him, but my husband still jokes to my newborn “you want the boob” when he’s crying and it makes me sad and mad at him. I feel like a cow, not like his mother. I feel there’d be a better bond if he would latch correctly and I didn’t have to pump all the time.

My PPD was caused by being unable to breastfeed.No matter how many experts I saw it was incredibly painful so I quit when my son was 9 weeks old. Right away I felt horrible about taking away the food best for him and felt like a complete failure. I thought my entire family was better off without me and desperately hoped I would go to bed and never wake up the next morning.

I don’t want to do this anymore. I miss my life before. I want to run away.

I am pregnant with my second child but I also have a 6 year old step daughter. I keep having nightmares that she kills my newborn. She fights with her brother so often while she is here I can’t stand her at our house anymore. I feel like I hate her. I don’t want her to touch my son or the new baby. I know she feels my anger and frustration but at this point I don’t know how to change my attitude. Then I get sad once she leaves.

When my son cries really loud and hard, I get triggered. I remember the first time he cried so hard and I felt so helpless. Now every time he cries like that, I feel like picking him up and slamming him down. I hate myself for feeling this way. I love him so much but I just can’t do it sometimes. He doesn’t go to anyone else during those times and I just feel so drained. I need a break.

Every time he cries, I become irrational. I feel like it’s a personal attack against me. I cry right with him, and become incapable of resolving his needs. When I finally figure it out, I feel like the meanest person by letting him suffer and making it about me…