I always thought I was strong. I’ve never been overly sensitive to hormones, mood swings weren’t really a thing for me, and I assumed baby blues were something that happened to women who just couldn’t handle the stress.
But then it happened. To me. With my second baby.
And it hit me out of nowhere.
There wasn’t a specific moment. No trigger. Just this slow, heavy fog that started creeping in around day 3 postpartum. I held my baby, stared at her perfect face — and cried. Not because I was sad, not because anything was wrong. I just… cried.
And the worst part? I couldn’t explain why.
My Brain Would Invent Sadness
It was like my own mind was playing a trick on me. Out of nowhere, thoughts would appear — irrational, absurd, but painfully emotional. “What if something happens to her while she sleeps?” “What if I’m not bonding enough?” “What if I’m not good enough for this baby?”
I knew those thoughts didn’t make sense. But my body didn’t care. I cried anyway. It felt like my brain wanted to find a reason to grieve — just to let something out.
I was exhausted. Weepy. Detached from everything, including myself. And I didn’t have the energy or desire to Google what I was going through.
I wasn’t looking for answers. I was just trying to get through the day.
It Felt Like Colic… for My Soul
The only way I can describe it is: it felt like baby colic, but inside me. It wasn’t constant. It came in waves. And I couldn’t do anything about it. I just had to wait for it to pass.
And just like colic — the worst part was the helplessness.
I Didn’t Want to Talk About It
I didn’t post about it. I didn’t even tell my husband what was really going on. I just said I was tired. But inside, I felt like I was dissolving.
The house was full of diapers, pacifiers, swaddles, feeding pillows — everything we were told we’d need. But somehow, I felt like the only thing missing.
The Advice I Wish I Had
So here’s what I wish someone told me:
This is not a weakness. It’s a state.
You are not dramatic. You are not broken.
What’s happening inside you is bigger than logic. Bigger than willpower.
Don’t go through it alone. Don’t stay silent.
Talk to someone — even if it’s just to say “I’m not okay, and I don’t know why.”
You don’t need solutions. You need a witness.
Someone who nods and says “Yes. I’ve felt that too.”
And If You’re Reading This…
Maybe that someone is me.
Maybe you needed to see these words, just to know it’s not just you.
Let’s take this one soft step at a time.
You don’t have to explain your feelings to be worthy of support.
This was my story. Now, I want to leave you with something that helped me when I felt completely lost.
It’s not a magic fix — but it’s a soft light in the darkness.
Gentle, honest, and made for moms like you.
If your heart whispered “I needed this” while reading… maybe this guide is your next step.
[Tap here to feel a little less alone.]