![]() Not in a suicidal way, just in a compulsive, hysterical way. ![]() It often took hours before I could sleep, and once in a while I’d find myself repeating over and over into thin air, “Please just keep them safe. Then I would lie in bed and panic-sometimes cry-thinking about having to go on with life without my husband or baby. Every time we’d drive on the freeway, I would lock the car doors because I had a recurring waking nightmare about a door malfunctioning and me or one of my family members being sucked out of the car, kind of like in the movies when an airplane door is opened mid-flight.Īt night, I would pray to God to keep my husband and son (and eventually sons) safe. I had to check on my son at least twice before I went to sleep every night, and I often found myself getting out of bed to make sure the front door was locked, even though I always lock the door behind me when I get home. Of course, at the time I didn’t know this, so I just thought I was losing my mind. It began to fill my brain, taking on a life of its own and sometimes making it difficult to focus on anything else.Īn obsession with death and dying can be a symptom of postpartum anxiety, especially in those women with postpartum OCD. However, it wasn’t until I developed postpartum anxiety that I became preoccupied with the topic. ![]() When I got married, though, overnight I became aware of the possibility of having something invaluable taken away from me. I didn’t understand what it might mean to lose someone I didn’t experience a death in my family until I was 24 years old. As a teenager, I thought I was untouchable, invincible, like many teenagers are apt to do. Alexis Lesa describes her constant fears of losing her husband or children while she had postpartum anxiety.
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