Self-Care Isn't Selfish: One New Mom’s Story

I was 16 weeks pregnant when my doctor told me that my unborn daughter might have a hole in her heart. Although a fetal echocardiogram didn’t confirm the defect, I braced myself for the rest of my pregnancy. My fiancé, Daniel, and I tried to be as positive as possible. Every time we discussed her approaching arrival, we agreed that whatever came next, we’d take care of it—together.

To make our worries worse, during labor, the umbilical cord got wrapped around my baby’s neck. I tried to stay calm, but listening to the doctors try to get my daughter to cry was sheer torture. I cried and begged the nurses to fill me in on every detail. When they finally managed to get her to cry, it felt like a weight had finally lifted. But that relief was short-lived. A nurse rushed her to me quickly, saying, “You have 30 seconds to get a picture because we’ve got to get her to the NICU.”

It would be several more hours still before I’d get to see my daughter again—and every minute felt like an eternity.

When the time came to see her, I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. I wondered, Is she OK? Will I be able to take care of her? Will I feel like a mom? But the minute I got through the doors all my worry melted away. I wasn’t just a mom—I was Keilani’s mom—and I knew that I would take care of my daughter, whatever that took.

The doctors told us that Keilani did have a hole in her heart after all, but that she’d need to gain weight before they could perform the surgery to repair it. However, very quickly she began to show symptoms of congestive heart failure. She couldn’t latch on, she hardly ate any formula, and she wasn’t gaining weight. A light cough turned to a heavy one and she couldn’t catch her breath, so doctors decided when she reached 4 months, she’d need to have the surgery.

To make matters worse, I struggled with postpartum depression. I blamed myself for Keilani’s problems and kept wondering what I could have done differently during my pregnancy. I guess in my head I knew I’d done everything right, but my body had other ideas. I had trouble eating, I couldn’t sleep, and I just didn’t feel comfortable in my skin. I worried about whether not taking care of myself would somehow affect my ability to care for my daughter, too.

And then a lightbulb went off and I realized I needed to do something for me, so that I could keep being the best mother and caregiver for Keilani.

I started weekly telehealth therapy sessions to talk about my feelings and I made sure to go outside for a walk every single day. Sometimes Keilani was in the stroller, other times I left her with Daniel and went out by myself. Moving my body and getting fresh air really helped decrease the turmoil that was going on in my body and my mind.

The day of Keilani’s surgery was especially rough because of the pandemic. Things had just shut down, but her surgery was deemed essential—and Daniel and I couldn’t have anybody with us. When they wheeled her off, I tried my best not to break down. All I wanted was go with her. When I left the waiting room to get some breakfast, I just cried the entire walk there and back. She was so little, seeing her go through such a grueling procedure felt cruel and unfair, and it brought back a lot of the emotions and negative self-thoughts I’d worked so hard to overcome.

It wasn’t until I saw the doctor walking toward us—after a nearly five-hour surgery—with a smile that I finally felt like I could breathe. He explained that the hole in her heart had been larger than they’d expected, and he was glad that we took care of it when we did. But despite the good report, when we got to her room and I saw her, lying there with wires sticking out all over … it was almost more than I could take.

My first instinct was to stay with her 24/7. After all, I am her mother, my place is with her, caring for her, making sure she’s OK.

But then I took a deep breath and remembered all the things I’d learned since her birth. I knew that if I slept in her room for her entire stay, it would trigger a major anxiety attack. As difficult as it seemed, I simply had to take care of myself. I’d be no good to her if I was a wreck myself.

So instead, I found a way to stay on top of her care while I took care of me, too. I called the nurses every night before I went to sleep, and again first thing in the morning so I could hear all the updates. Plus, it helped to know she was in great hands with her doctors and nurses.

Now, it's been two years since Keilani’s surgery and she’s doing great. It wasn’t easy to get through that time in our lives but I know that taking care of myself was one of the best things I could have done. I’ve heard the words, “Self-care is never selfish,” and it’s absolutely true. Everyone needs a break, in order to be there, stronger than ever, for the ones they love.

• Finding downtime and prioritizing ways to decompress can improve both your physical health and mental outlook.
• Many caregivers spend so much time taking care of the person in need, they neglect their own care.
• Exhausted? Try these expert-approved tips to help you get back to a good place.