I remember it so clearly. It was a Monday morning, way earlier than I would normally wake up, I was 19 weeks pregnant and I woke up with a start. I mean one second I was sleeping and the next moment I was sitting up, my heart pounding, and I knew something was WRONG. I tried to go about my day, but I was scared and this feeling would not go away. That night, I couldn't sleep, the next night I couldn't sleep either, and the third night, the same thing. I would nod off and then jolt awake, my heart pounding and terrified. I wrote an email to my OB/GYN and told her what was going on and that I felt like I was having a never-ending panic attack (I'd had them before, but nothing like this). She did her best to get me in to see a psychiatrist as soon as possible, but it wasn't soon enough.
Read more ¿Qué más?: Touching pregnant women's bellies is ILLEGAL in Pennsylvania
I was at home by myself and became overwhelmed with this desire to run out into the street. I know, it makes no sense, but remember I felt like I was having a never-ending panic attack and in 72 hours I had managed to sleep maybe three hours total. My husband was at work and I called him and told him I was going to call a cab and go to the emergency room. He told me to relax and that everything would be all right, that he would be home in a few hours and help me through it. He must have heard the desperation in my voice when I said, "You don't understand because I'm about to run into the street," because the next thing I knew he showed up in a cab and went to the emergency room with me.
It was confirmed that I was suffering from severe panic attacks. A wonderful nurse held my hand and told me that I wasn't alone that other pregnant women go through it as well, that I could get help, that I would be okay. She looked at me with so much understanding and compassion that I believed her when she told me I wasn't actually going crazy that it was just the hormones doing something to me.
My struggle with panic attacks during my first pregnancy was the stuff of horror movies. I feel blessed that I had doctors who helped me through it with kindness, respect, and genuine care. I didn't want to take medication because, for crying out loud, I was pregnant. They held my hand, they looked me in the eyes, they explained my options to me, they explained that in the state I was in the benefits of NOT taking medication were being outweighed by the risks that my psychological state was putting me and my baby in. So I listened, I took medication even though I got lectures from people who didn't know what they were talking about, who were making my panic worse.
It took weeks and trying various medications to FINALLY feel like I wasn't in a constant state of panic, but it happened, I felt better. I took medication and both my baby and I are fine now.
I tell you this not for me anymore, but because I know that other pregnant women are going through this, will go through this, and I want to assure them that they can get help. Please, talk to your doctor and get help if you are suffering with panic issues. It's okay, you are not losing your mind and you are not a bad person or a bad mother for needing help.
Image via Thinkstock
