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My maternal crisis, which took the form of postpartum depression, lasted nine months.
My first pregnancy: a highly desired child, a completely harmonious pregnancy, a physiological birth in a maternity ward. The first moments were wonderful: two hours of skin-to-skin contact with my son and immediate love at first sight for this little being who had just joined us.
During my stay in the maternity ward, I was already very anxious about his well-being, about doing everything right, about breastfeeding, and about having enough milk. I was extremely sensitive to his crying, which I could hardly tolerate, and I had a fixed idea: “A good mother = a child who does not cry.” So I tried to control everything, anticipate everything, to avoid his crying.
I was very distressed by his crying, his needs, and this immense dependence. At first, I went through a period of overactivation, which today – now that I know the right term – I would call hypervigilance (a symptom often present before a psychological breakdown). I did everything: cleaning, caring for my child, breastfeeding, ironing, cooking, walking. I felt invincible.
I was very happy but at the same time anxious – something that was not part of my temperament before or during pregnancy. In retrospect, everything was stressful: the crying, car trips, breastfeeding, the daily routine… always a very, too high standard. Now I know that projections from my own childhood and my fear of abandonment were triggered. I wanted to have my son always close to me, I was very focused on him, and I wanted him to develop as harmoniously as possible, without suffering, with an immediate response to all his needs. I maintained this hypervigilance and rested very little. At the slightest sign or movement, I felt I had to respond to his request; otherwise, he might lack comfort, which would cause him distress. His vulnerability as a newborn and this period of extreme dependence made me see him as fragile and vulnerable. Today I know that I was the one who was very fragile and vulnerable.
