Road to motherhood: Mental health takes front seat

DOVER AIR FORCE BASE, Del. --

Sleepless nights. Warm snuggles. Gentle coos. These are things I expected in the newborn stage. Instead, I experienced dread, hopelessness and defeat.

In early 2023, my husband and I were thrilled to learn we were expecting our first child. But, our daughter's journey into this world was anything but smooth. About halfway through my pregnancy, she was diagnosed with a severe fetal growth restriction and other developmental abnormalities. I was subsequently diagnosed with preeclampsia and another condition that causes too much amniotic fluid. With so many complications, the doctors told us that if she made it, she had a high chance of a birth defect. My care team made the decision to induce labor at 37 weeks. We prepared for the worst.

Miraculously, my baby came into this world crying and healthy. I knew she would need to spend some time in the neonatal intensive care unit, because she only weighed 3 pounds, 14 ounces. Even though she was small, relief washed over me as I realized she was ok. Unfortunately, that feeling was short-lived.

About 10 minutes after she was born, I was taken to a different room for an unexpected surgery resulting from complications during childbirth. I was awake during the operation and could hear the growing panic of the doctors and nurses around me. I began to drift in and out of consciousness when the doctor told me she would have to perform an emergency cesarean section to remove my placenta, and that she would likely have to remove my uterus to save my life. I didn't know it at the time, but I was dying.

At some point in between surgeries, I remember seeing my mom and husband. He tearfully told me everything would be ok, and that he loved me. Everything in me wanted to say, 'I love you, too,' but I physically couldn't respond.

As soon as my family was out of sight, the medical team began running, rushing me to the operating room. I remember seeing at least 20 doctors and nurses in the room. I was terrified they would start the surgery while I was awake. I remember looking at the ceiling and wondering, 'Is this the last thing I'll ever see?' My daughter would never know her mother. My husband would have to raise her alone. My parents would have to bury me. It's a fear I wouldn't want anyone to experience.

A clinician saw my panic and gently held my face in her hands. She looked me straight in the eye and told me I would wake up. I had no choice but to believe her.

She was right, I did wake up. I remember being overcome with a sense of happiness. I was alive. My mom had the difficult task of telling me I had no uterus. That news hit me like a ton of bricks. Any dreams of a big family were crushed in an instant.

Two days later, I was discharged. Instead of being wheeled out of the hospital with my new baby, I held a vase of flowers. Leaving her there was far more painful than I expected.

We were able to bring our daughter home after nine days. Over the next few weeks, I realized I felt no connection to her. We were alone a lot due to my husband's schedule, and I was going through the motions of taking care of my baby. I wasn't taking care of myself. I wasn't eating and was barely showering. Getting off the couch felt like a monumental task. Most of my days were spent in unexplainable, endless tears.

No matter how much time passed, my mind was stuck in that hospital, unable to move on. I struggled with the memory of being in the operating room and with the fact that the choice to have more children was taken away from me.

I knew the Air Force offered resources, but I wasn't sure where to look, and I was too embarrassed to reach out to my co-workers. About two months had passed when I finally spoke to my doctor. She personally escorted me to make an appointment with a therapist and quickly prescribed a low-dose antidepressant. I was hesitant about being prescribed medication, fearing it would affect my military career. Thankfully, I learned it would not have a negative impact, and I began to see therapy and medication as tools to help me get better.

Therapy was hard. Reliving my nightmare was hard, but continuing life with the utter emptiness I felt, would have been harder.

A year later, I feel like myself again. I enjoy life and love every second I spend with my daughter. Seeing her face light up when I walk in the door and dancing with her to her favorite song-"Old McDonald Had a Farm"-are things I am so thankful I'm not missing out on. While I can still get overwhelmed from time to time, I know I have the tools my therapist taught me to prevent myself from spiraling. Her help, along with proper medication, truly pulled me out of the darkest hole I have ever been in.

Throughout this journey, I have learned seeking help is a sign of strength, not a weakness. No one should be expected to endure grief, anxiety or depression on their own. Therapy and medication worked for me, but there are many avenues to receive support.

After my experience, I made it a point to look into the different Air Force Reserve resources for two reasons. Firstly, it's good information to know if I ever need them in the future; and, as a recently promoted noncommissioned officer, I want to be armed with the knowledge to help someone else if needed.

I discovered many units, including my own, have a licensed healthcare provider who conducts mental health assessments and recommends referrals for your concerns. Known as a DPH, these directors of psychological health operate with medical confidentiality.

For non-medical counseling, you and your family can tap into the Military and Family Life Counseling Program or Military One Source for free, and it's confidential as well.

If you're unsure where to start, seeing a chaplain is a great first step, and they are also a 100% confidential resource. My unit even has an electronic wingman card on the Air Force Connect app with direct access to even more helping agencies. There are a lot out there, and I encourage you to learn more about them and think about which one you would choose if you needed help.

The help I received saved my life. I am so immensely grateful for my daughter, husband, my family and my life. Doing the work to get better is hard, but it is absolutely worth it.

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