I knew going into pregnancy that my anxiety could rear it’s ugly head after the girls were born. I am used to recognizing when it is off the scales, addressing it, and moving on. These are learned skills. I usually can pinpoint what is making me anxious and rationally deal with it to the best of my ability. When I can’t pinpoint the source is when things start to unravel.
I am used to anxiety from work, school, marriage. Anxiety from motherhood has been a huge wakeup call. Not only is it difficult for me to ascertain where exactly it is coming from, other than it is Evie and Liv related, but it is hard for me to talk myself down from.
As I have talked about before, getting Liv and Evie’s health insurance and pediatrician taken care of has been an uphill battle every step of the way. It still isn’t completely in place. There are still bills that need to be taken care of from their time in the NICU that I haven’t addressed because, hello, I do not have time to sit on hold, thank you very much. Second, they should be in an early intervention program to address any developmental delays they will experience due to being preemies. Still waiting on a call back from that program.
These things, as frustrating as they are, aren’t catastrophic problems. But they are enough to make me hyperventilate. And I don’t recognize that it is causing me so much anxiety until I am well into losing it. I was talking to a friend the other day when I accidentally stumbled across it. I have no idea how to manage the anxiety that comes along with being a new mom. Because hey, I am a NEW MOM. So on top of having twins being five million times harder than I anticipated, I am not responding to issues in a rational, collected way. Neat.
So, I did what I do. I took some of the time that I have when I have sitters and found a new therapist. I found a new psychiatrist. Both of these things are ridiculously time consuming. Taking my precious time when I could be on hold with the hospital about NICU bills to find myself adequate mental healthcare is hard to swallow. I feel like I am failing the girls by saying, hang on, I need to get my shit together.
I just keep telling myself I need to put my oxygen mask first, before putting theirs on.