Small Town Mommy

The Anxiety Nobody Talks About: Postpartum Worry in an Unsafe World

Before having kids, I thought I understood anxiety. I worried about normal things—school deadlines, bills, the occasional what-if scenario. But nothing prepared me for the kind of anxiety that came with motherhood. The kind that keeps you up at night, triple-checking that the doors are locked. The kind that makes you clutch your baby’s car seat a little tighter when walking through a parking lot. The kind that turns a simple trip to the grocery store into a full-body stress response.

Nobody talks about postpartum anxiety the way they do postpartum depression. There’s awareness around the baby blues, but what about the constant state of high alert that so many of us live in every single day? What about the racing thoughts, the overwhelming sense that something bad is always just around the corner?

For me, it’s worst when we’re out in public. The world feels so unsafe right now. Every time I turn on the news or scroll through Facebook, there’s another missing child, another kidnapping just a few towns over. And what’s even scarier? It feels like no one is doing anything about it. We see these heartbreaking headlines, we share the posts, and then what? The world just keeps moving, while we, as mothers, are left carrying the weight of that fear.

At one point, I finally went to the doctor to talk about my postpartum anxiety, hoping for some real help. Instead, they immediately wanted to put me on multiple medications. But when they explained the side effects—how they could make me drowsy and emotionally numb—I knew that wasn’t the answer for me. My babies deserve a mom who feels things, who experiences joy and love and even the hard emotions, not a mom who’s too medicated to be present. So I declined. Not because I think medication is bad, but because I couldn’t accept becoming a zombie when my children need me to be here with them, fully and completely.

I try not to let it consume me, but it’s exhausting. I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m in survival mode just to take my kids to the park. I shouldn’t have to map out an escape plan every time we walk into a store. And yet, here I am, scanning every face, watching every exit, holding onto my babies like my life depends on it—because in today’s world, it just might.

I know I’m not alone in this. I know there are other moms out there who feel the same way but don’t talk about it because we’re supposed to be “grateful” or “soaking in the little moments.” But how do we do that when our brains are wired to be on constant defense? How do we enjoy the present when the world around us keeps reminding us how fragile our reality is?

I don’t have the answers. I wish I did. But I do know that we need to talk about postpartum anxiety more. We need to acknowledge that this level of fear isn’t normal, that moms shouldn’t have to carry this invisible burden alone. Because the world might not be getting any safer, but maybe, just maybe, we can find some comfort in knowing that we’re not facing it alone.