My Experience With Postpartum Anxiety and Depression
This piece was submitted by a local mom wanting to share her story. If you have a story to share, please reach out.
A Note From Melanie
My friend Kelsey recently started opening up on social media about the realities of motherhood and mental health, and I’ve really appreciated her honesty.
When I saw her sharing more of her own experience, I knew her voice and perspective would resonate with the moms in this community.
I asked her if she would be willing to share her story with our audience because sometimes hearing someone else say “me too” can make you feel a little less alone.
Disclaimer: there is talk of postpartum depression and anxiety. Read with caution.
I Thought This Was Motherhood
I thought becoming a mom meant thinking about worst-case scenarios all the time.
I thought lying awake at night worrying that my baby might die, for no reason at all, was part of loving him.
I thought constantly Googling things for peace of mind was something new moms did.
I constantly heard women talk about the “baby blues,” so I chalked up my irritability and feeling disconnected to probably being just that.
And because I could still function, take care of my baby, love him fiercely, and appear okay from the outside, I assumed I was OKAY.
I wasn’t okay. I just didn’t know it yet.
I Didn’t Know What Postpartum Anxiety Looked Like
In May 2020, my first baby was born, and my anxiety was ignited almost instantly.
We were also in the middle of COVID, which gave my already-anxious brain plenty to work with. I was convinced my baby, my husband, or I would get sick and die. I was terrified my baby would die of SIDS. I remember thinking of a million things that could go wrong at any second of any day.
It was exhausting.
I was constantly Googling things to reassure myself that everything was okay. I was irritable, drinking a lot of wine at night to feel “calm,” and feeling worthless and strangely disconnected while simultaneously loving motherhood.
Being a mom was my DREAM. I was also struggling.
It took me a long time to realize that both of those things could be true at the same time.
I Even Hid It On My Postpartum Screening
I vividly remember reading that mental health screening form at my six-week postpartum appointment and knowing some of the answers technically applied to me. But in my head, I was saying things like: “Well yeah, but that’s only because I just had a baby.”
Or:
“Yeah, but I don’t feel like that ALL the time.”
So I answered in ways that made everything look okay. I didn’t feel like I was lying. I truly did not understand what postpartum mental health struggles could look like. I thought if I was taking care of my baby, functioning and enjoying motherhood, then what I was experiencing wasn’t “real”.
So I went on like that for an entire year. It never really got better. It just became my normal.
“Kelsey, that’s not normal.”
A year later, I was at an appointment with my OB to talk about potentially having a second baby when the topic of mental health came up. I started explaining some of the anxious thoughts that had become a normal part of my life as a mom.
She stopped me. “Kelsey, that’s not normal.”
I literally laughed, because that’s what I do when I’m nervous. Then I cried. It felt like relief mixed with embarrassment. How had I spent an entire year feeling this way without realizing something was wrong?
But more than anything, I think I felt relieved that someone had finally told me motherhood wasn’t supposed to feel this hard inside my head.
I Was Terrified Medication Would Change Who I Was
I was WORRIED AS HECK that medication would change my personality. I thought, “What if my husband doesn’t like me on medication?”
And then, “What if I don’t like me?!”
I had this idea in my head that there would somehow be “Kelsey on medication” and “Kelsey off medication,” and they would be two different people. When I look back at those thoughts now, I can see that it was probably my anxiety itself feeding my anxiety about treating the anxiety.
PHEW!
With my doctor, I decided to start Zoloft. I don’t want to say Zoloft “cured” me, because mental health is so much more complicated than that. But I started noticing things. I could go to bed and actually sleep. I wasn’t lying awake imagining all the ways something could happen to my baby. The noise in my head got quieter, which helped me understand just how loud it had been.
Healing Wasn’t a Straight Line
Under my doctor’s care, I stayed on Zoloft through my second pregnancy. My second son was born in 2022, and a few months postpartum, I began feeling awful again. This time my fear became: “Why isn’t this working anymore?”
And:
“Am I getting worse?”
I talked with my doctor, and together we adjusted my treatment. I stopped Zoloft and started Lexapro and Buspar instead. That change worked really well for me.
Eventually, after a couple of years, I felt mentally strong enough to work with my doctor toward coming off medication. I also wanted to support my mental health in other ways through journaling, exercise, nutrition, uplifting content, self-care and taking better care of myself overall.
Eventually, I became medication-free. And I was SO proud of myself. I stayed medication-free for roughly two years.
Then I got pregnant again.
My Anxiety Found a New Target During My Third Pregnancy
It was summer 2025, and I was pregnant with our third and final baby.
A few months into my pregnancy, I could feel my mental health starting to slip. Eventually, I started to feel like a shell of myself. The anxious thoughts were louder than they had been in a long time. But this time, my anxiety found a new target: If I start medication now, it might hurt my baby.
I had been so proud of being medication-free, and I was DEAD SET on staying that way throughout my pregnancy. But I also knew enough by this point to speak up. I told my doctor exactly how I was feeling and exactly what I was afraid of. She talked me through the risks and benefits of treatment during pregnancy and, based on my individual circumstances, recommended restarting medication.
After that conversation, I ultimately felt comfortable starting a low dose of Lexapro. And once again, something happened that has become a recurring theme throughout my mental health journey: I didn’t fully realize how bad I had gotten until I started to feel better.
Four Months Postpartum, Everything Changed
Our final baby arrived in March 2026, and I was on CLOUD NINE. I was enjoying postpartum in a way I never had before. I was soaking up every precious moment with our final baby. I wasn’t consumed by anxiety. I genuinely felt amazing.
I remember thinking, THIS is what postpartum can feel like? Nothing could bring me down. Until suddenly, something did.
Around four months postpartum, things started to change. I wasn’t sleeping much. I was increasingly irritable. I remember my mom mentioning that I seemed a little on edge, too. I dismissed it.
It’s just a phase. I’m just tired. This too shall pass. Except…it didn’t. I became more irritable. I wasn’t sleeping well. Things that normally brought me joy weren’t bringing me joy anymore. The depression and anxiety became overwhelming. And I was hiding it so damn well.
I knew I couldn’t keep waiting for this “phase” to pass. I messaged my doctor’s office. We quickly made an appointment, talked about what I was experiencing, and ultimately decided to increase my Lexapro dose.
And I am so thankful I sent that message.
Looking Okay Isn’t the Same as Being Okay
You can get up. Take care of everybody. Go where you need to go. Smile. Handle motherhood…And be absolutely struggling on the inside.
I think, as moms, we can become really good at shoving things deep down and hiding our true emotions for the sake of our families. I know I can. But I’ve also learned that my children don’t need me to never struggle. That’s just another impossible standard for moms.
My kids are actually one of the biggest reasons I ask for help now. Not because I owe them a happy version of myself 24/7, but because I deserve support and they deserve a mom who takes care of herself, too.
I used to feel ashamed of reaching out for help. Now I want to scream from the rooftops that there is no shame in saying, “Something doesn’t feel right.”
What I Wish I Could Tell the Mom I Was in 2020
You deserve to feel better than you feel right now.
Strength can look like reaching out for help.
You do NOT have to know whether what you’re experiencing “counts” as postpartum anxiety or depression before telling someone.
You don’t have to wait until things get really bad.
You don’t have to be ashamed if medication becomes part of your story.
You don’t have to be ashamed if you thought you were better and realize you need help again.
And feeling amazing at six weeks postpartum doesn’t mean you’re guaranteed to feel amazing at four months postpartum.
Postpartum mental health isn’t always linear. Healing isn’t always linear, either.
If something feels off, tell someone.
Tell your partner. Tell your mom. Tell a friend. Tell your doctor.
You don’t need to have the right words. You don’t need to diagnose yourself first. You can simply say, “I don’t feel like myself, and I think I need help.”
I wish the mom I was in 2020 had known that. More than anything, I wish she could see me now.
Because after three babies, multiple seasons of struggling, getting better, struggling again, asking for help, learning how to take care of myself and finally letting go of the shame around needing support, I can genuinely say: I am mentally thriving.
And if you’re somewhere in the trenches right now, I hope my story reminds you that you deserve the chance to feel that way, too.
Looking for Mental Health Resources?
If anything in this article hits close to home, you’re not alone. We’ve also talked with local mental-health professionals about topics including anxiety, stress management, and supporting children’s emotional health.
This is obviously not medical advice and you should call 911 if you feel in imminent danger.
