If there’s anyone who embodies postpartum anxiety, it was me.
On that first night home with our newborn, my mind felt like a hive of activity. Doubts and fears swirled as our baby’s cries grew increasingly frantic. It was 3:30 a.m., and the evening had been a complete chaos. I remember standing by the crib, gripping the wooden bars, convinced that we were doomed.
My son needed to eat again, be swaddled again, and I needed to pump. Again. Swaddle, feed, pump, swaddle, feed, pump—I hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. Just two days post-labor, I could feel the weight of new motherhood pressing down on me.
“Sweetheart,” my partner interjected gently. “I’m concerned about you. The sun is about to rise. Please get some rest; I can take over from here.”
I watched as he changed our son’s diaper and prepared a bottle of breast milk. I observed him settle into the rocking chair and… Oh no. The diaper tabs weren’t aligned properly. The baby might leak through that! Did he just shake the milk? Doesn’t he know that’s a no-no? And he’s not even supporting the baby’s head… Oh my goodness, NO!
“Ugh, let me do it!” I snapped. “You’re not doing it right anyway.”
My partner stood up from the chair and handed the baby back to me.
“Okay, sorry,” he replied, kissing both of us before retreating to bed. As I rocked our son for what felt like the tenth time, I could hear him snoring. What should have been a joyous time spiraled into a year of resentment.
Over the next year, I noticed my partner becoming less engaged in the day-to-day responsibilities of parenting. I would hear him call my name to change a seemingly endless series of diapers. “Honey, the baby is awake,” he would gently remind me.
If I were to speak candidly, I might label him as selfish. I might even question our relationship. But that wasn’t the reality. Not even close.
The truth was that anxiety, fatigue, and stress were distorting my perception of the situation. I saw a husband who kept his distance, fearing that his attempts at parenting would be criticized. I noticed a dad who lingered behind, wanting to help but believing he would only mess it up. He had learned to stay put because every time he tried to assist, I would swoop in and critique his methods.
My partner wasn’t perfect, but honestly, who is? I was so tightly wound that I snapped at any attempt that didn’t align with my way of doing things. Consequently, the father of my children withdrew, hands raised in surrender. Defeated.
Three years have passed since that tumultuous period of intense anxiety, and it saddens me to reflect on it. It breaks my heart to think that a new mother was overwhelmed by mental health struggles. It pains me that a new father had his confidence undermined by the very person who should have been his strongest ally. We were both robbed of the opportunity to be the dynamic duo we could have been from the outset.
Anxiety and exhaustion? They are notorious deceivers. They whisper to mothers that they are the only ones capable of getting a toddler to nap. They insist that if a diaper isn’t changed immediately, it will lead to disaster. They trick mothers into believing that if Dad tries to handle things, it will only take longer.
And sometimes, we mothers fall for these lies, don’t we? It’s incredibly challenging not to.
Daily, I hear conversations lamenting uninvolved fathers. It seems like a widespread epidemic. While there are indeed a few poor parental figures out there, I can’t help but wonder if there’s another factor at play.
I ponder whether there are mothers, like I once was, who feel out of control and attempt to regain it by micromanaging every detail of their baby’s care. I wonder if there are fathers who think they are being respectful by stepping back when asked. I think of families, like mine, who are navigating the fog of new parent anxiety and getting a bit lost along the way.
Now that the haze of anxiety has cleared, I see clearly: my partner wasn’t trying to distance himself from his role as a father. He cherishes being a dad. I was the one pushing him away.
Just acknowledging that truth fills me with sadness.
If I can share my message with even one family to prevent a similar period of resentment, it will be worth it. So here it is, parents: Don’t allow stress and anxiety to drive your partner out of their parenting role. Seek help if you need it. No matter how differently you do things or how peculiar their methods may seem, strive to support one another. You deserve the assistance and the break, Mom. It will only make you stronger together—as parents and partners.
Don’t deprive yourselves of the authentic joy that comes from co-parenting.
For more information on navigating the complexities of parenting, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy from March of Dimes. And if you’re exploring options for family planning, consider visiting our post on at-home insemination kits.
Summary
Postpartum anxiety can strain the relationship between partners, leading one parent to inadvertently push the other away. It’s crucial to recognize this dynamic and work together, supporting each other through the challenges of new parenthood. Seeking help and maintaining open communication can strengthen your bond and enhance your parenting experience.