Parenting while managing migraines can feel like an uphill battle. It often begins with a dull throb deep in my head—so familiar that it has become an annoying part of my daily life. I keep bottles of ibuprofen stashed in my kitchen, nightstand, bathroom, purse, and car, hoping to catch that headache before it escalates. Most of the time, this strategy works. But there are moments when I find myself without medication, or the pain simply overwhelms the relief.
When the migraine strikes, I scramble to get home, often having to end playdates or outings with minimal explanation. Talking is excruciating, and arguing is even worse. I quickly toss snacks into the backseat for my kids and speed home.
Fortunately, I have a supportive partner, Mark, who can usually leave work if my condition prevents me from functioning. If the headache strikes after lunch, I try not to disturb him, opting instead to park the kids in front of the TV for an afternoon filled with snacks until he returns. I allow them to indulge in their favorite shows—often the annoying ones I usually restrict—and scatter toys throughout the living room. While locking the bathroom door to prevent any mishaps, I retreat to my room.
I navigate this chaos wearing sunglasses, sometimes even closing my eyes to manage the tasks I can handle without sight. I find myself yelling, even though it exacerbates my pain. It’s a quick way to squash any discussions about toys or snacks that could lead to more arguing.
As a migraine-suffering mother, I instinctively shift into survival mode. I rush to create a dark, quiet space where I can rest, all while anticipating my children’s needs for the next several hours. I check diapers and guide potty breaks, praying for minimal messes. At this point, I’m not cleaning anything up.
Once I collapse in bed, I bury my head under the pillow, desperately blocking out light. I can’t watch TV, read, or listen to podcasts—I’m left alone with the feeling of an elephant stampede on my skull. Until Mark arrives, I can only manage ibuprofen. My prescribed migraine medication is a last resort; it tends to worsen my headaches before providing relief, leaving me drained.
Despite my earlier attempts to keep things quiet, noise always finds a way in. My children’s exuberance often breaks through my sanctuary, with one of them bursting through the door to ask questions or climb onto my bed. I try to convey my pain, and sometimes my empathetic 4-year-old offers sweet sentiments before darting off, only to return moments later with a toy doctor kit, attempting to “treat” me with a plastic otoscope.
Bribery soon follows. I offer them my phone, unfettered computer access, and permission to indulge in everything from online shopping to violent cartoons. At this point, I’m willing to let them do whatever keeps the noise level down until their father returns.
When Mark finally walks through the door, I either manage to whisper my need for medication or frantically wave him away, yearning for solitude and quiet.
If my migraine worsens and I manage to doze off, I hope to wake up pain-free. Otherwise, I may find myself awake in the middle of the night, grappling with unbearable pain and contemplating a trip to the emergency room. This decision is complicated by the fact that little ones require supervision, and I must decide whether I can drive myself or if Mark needs to call someone to watch the kids while he takes me.
I’ve tried every remedy available, from unconventional to medically endorsed. After months of physical therapy to address neck issues triggering my migraines, I was informed that this is a reality I’ll have to learn to live with. I’ve made adjustments to my posture and engage in exercises aimed at reducing the frequency of these episodes, but the unpredictability remains.
As I prepare my family for outings, I simply hope to avoid that initial warning sign of a headache and the dread it carries.
Parenting while dealing with migraines is undoubtedly challenging. If you can relate, know that you’re not alone in this struggle, and give yourself permission to do what you need to cope—without guilt. For more insights on related issues, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy treatments and consider exploring at-home insemination options, which you can learn about here.
In summary, the journey of parenting through migraines is a tough one, but support and understanding are essential to navigating this difficult terrain.