I haven’t shared this with many people, but in the hospital, about 36 hours after Nora was born, I had a panic attack. Our plan leading up to the delivery was to send Nora to the nursery during the night so I could get some sleep. I wasn’t crazy about the idea, mainly because I felt guilty, but Micah convinced me that it was the right move.

You see, I have always loved sleep and function best on 8–9 hours. I know that sounds like something an obnoxious, over-indulgent young person would say, but it’s true. Sleep is labeled a luxury in our high-performing culture – “You didn’t sleep last night? So what, neither did I. Get over it.” But, since I was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease in 2012, I’ve come to terms with the fact that many problems are solved with a good night’s sleep.

Unfortunately, they had to put me on a different floor where there was no nursery because the hospital was full. This was a pretty big blow. By that time I had far overcome my mom guilt and was anxiously anticipating a quiet room to pass out in. But, curveball, Nora would need to stay in the room with us. This meant that 36 hours after my c-section I had only slept a few hours. After finally drifting off into a deep sleep, I woke abruptly feeling weird. I looked up, and the clock on the wall was moving very fast. The rocking chair my mom was in was rocking too fast. Panic took over. My husband and my brother were across the street getting dinner, and I started thinking they were dead. Later I discovered that this was also partially due to the drugs they had me on, but it scared me so bad that I started having a panic attack.

Eventually, Micah got there and I began to calm down. It was a terrible and frightening experience. I know the drugs were a significant factor, but I also know my body, and the sleep deprivation is what got to me.

The ride home from the hospital was not the magical experience I had envisioned. Actually, Micah, Nora, and I did have a few sweet moments in the car telling her about how we were “taking her to the place we’d prepared for her.” But, once we arrived to said place, I collapsed into my bed in a ball of tears. Exhaustion. (And of course hormones, but right now we’re talking about exhaustion. Let’s take it one problem at a time.)

For the next 3 months I was more tired than I’d ever been in my entire life. A new universe of tired that had yet to be explored. I remember laying down and literally feeling my brain switch into a new depth of sleep. I was also sleeping at random times, you know, “sleep when the baby sleeps” and all that. This made me feel like I wasn’t a member of society anymore, but instead a reclusive creature that stumbled around from one room to the next day and night. During my waking hours, I felt like everything was moving in slow motion. I had to concentrate on doing the simplest tasks – “walk to the refrigerator, get out the orange juice, get out a glass, pour juice into glass.” It felt like my mind only had enough room for these very elementary thoughts.

I only have one journal entry from the first 3 months of Nora’s life, and it, no joke, just says: “What a mess.” and then I write a few things I’m thankful for. I was operating under the assumption that God knew what all those three little words carried. There was just too much weight on them to unpack in that moment.

The famous football coach, Vince Lombardi, once said: “Fatigue makes cowards of us all.” The Lord knows better than anyone how true that was for me those first few months. The sleep deprivation made me feel crazy. Like I might involuntarily vomit my internal thoughts all over someone at any moment. My husband got the worst of this, obviously. I watched his face show no comprehension as I gushed my long-winded and tearful explanations of all the things I was feeling. I felt like my entire body was a live wire. Like at any moment someone might give me a sideways glance, and that would affirm 30 insecurities I was wrestling with.

Here were a few of my fatigue induced cowardly thoughts:

1. If I just knew more about being a mom, then Nora would be sleeping, eating, ect. better. Knowledge is the problem. Must Google.
2. I feel like I am wearing a spacesuit of Jell-o for a body and it will always be this way. None of my clothes fit. How long is it acceptable to wear maternity clothes?
3. My boobs are huge and they feel like foreign objects on my body. Everyone is looking at how big my boobs are. Oh wait, I only saw one person today and it was the UPS guy delivering the things that I ordered after I Googled.
4. I would like to take pictures with my baby, but every time I do I am horrified by my appearance, so I better just stick with pictures of her.
5. I really need to work out. Never mind, I can’t even muster up the energy to make a sandwich.
6. Nora will never sleep through the night, and neither will I.
7. SOBBING uncontrollably – reason unknown
8. I am a terrible, selfish, and crazy wife. My husband surely hates me.
9. I have completely lost myself. I don’t even recognize the person in my own head and heart. Is she still even in there?
10. God is disappointed in me. I should be stronger. More spiritually focused. Able to will myself to overcome all these lies in the spirit.
11. Nora is not ok. Something is wrong. Something is wrong! SOMETHING IS WRONG!! CALL THE DOCTOR!!!! You think she’s ok? Ok, just tell me you think she’s ok. You’re probably right. Repeat daily.
12. Life is moving on without me. What day is it? No one cares about me.
13. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. This is my new life now. This is my life sentence: misery.

Now that I am (somewhat) well-rested, here’s the truth I would tell my sleep-deprived self:

God is with you. He is not disappointed in you. When you are weak he is strong, so tell him every anxious thought and allow him to hold the weight of it. You are not a failure. This is just new, so of course it’s challenging. You’re not supposed to know everything. There’s no way you could. You will learn by doing, and even as you begin to understand more, you will still need the help of the Holy Spirit to guide you.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” -Matthew 11:28–30

YOU ARE DOING SO GREAT! Wow, who knew there would be parts that would come so naturally. God made you to be a mom. You are his chosen woman to be the mom to this baby.

Give yourself a break. Let yourself off the hook. Don’t be so hard on yourself. This is a unique season. And, no doubt, it will not always be like this. Your sweet baby will sleep and so will you. You will start to feel more like yourself again, and really, an even better version of yourself if you trust God to shape this experience. Your body is amazing! It made that perfect little person! What a miracle. Try to accept where your body is today, and don’t worry about tomorrow. Today has enough trouble of its own, and there will be time to think of that soon enough.

Go take a nap!

(Feel free to forward these paragraphs to your husband, friend, mother, or mother-in-law to read to you)

Check out my other posts in The First Year of Motherhood series about When Everyone Tells You How Hard It Will Be, Making Peace with My Postpartum Body, and Going Back to Work.