A Battle As a Mum With Anxiety

Being a blogger can be a little deceiving, but not in the way you might think. Blogging has always been my safe space, a place where I can be myself and write openly, even about topics that some might find uncomfortable or controversial. But the truth is, being confident and outspoken isn't something that comes naturally to me in person.

I never want anyone to doubt the authenticity of my words. Whether I’m sharing my thoughts, having a little ramble, or venting about the chaos of mum life, I will always try to show the raw, unfiltered side of motherhood—not the glossy, Pinterest-perfect version where baking cookies, maintaining a spotless home, and wrangling toddlers looks effortless. Motherhood is the most beautiful, exhausting, soul-stretching experience imaginable. It’s filled with moments that light up your heart with the the cuddles, the giggles, the sleepy “I love yous.” But for those of us who live with anxiety, motherhood can also feel like a constant battle inside our own minds. 

Looking back, I wasn’t always anxious. As a child, I was outgoing—the first to say hello, the one inviting friends over. But as I grew older, something shifted. I became shy, hesitant, and anxious in unfamiliar groups. I dreaded being called on in class, struggled to concentrate, and feared being put on the spot. That anxiety followed me through school, college, university, and into the workplace. Presentations, team meetings, even casual conversations became daunting. It wasn’t until I met my husband that I began to feel seen and supported. He helped me rediscover my worth. We moved in together, got engaged, married—but even then, those feelings of inadequacy crept back in.

I remember having overwhelming worries about everyday things, thinking it was just part of my personality. I tried to focus on the positive aspects of my life, like my marriage and the hope of starting a family. But it wasn’t as smooth as I’d imagined. It was such a challenging time for my husband and me, and we couldn’t escape those heavy feelings. Some nights, I’d sit staring at yet another negative pregnancy test, completely heartbroken. I’d cry for myself, for my husband, and for the dream we might never achieve. 

I started believing I would never be enough for him. Those emotions were so hard to shake. Eventually, we decided to stop trying and focus on reconnecting as the couple we once were—two people with one shared dream. We shifted our attention to friends, family, and making fresh plans for our lives. And then, out of nowhere, I found myself sitting on the bathroom floor, holding a positive pregnancy test, crying. Our dream had finally come true. Yet, even with the joy of what was ahead, those anxious feelings began to creep back in, and shaking them off wasn’t easy.

From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I was consumed with worry. I worried about the pregnancy itself, about the baby, and whether my body could provide everything needed to keep her healthy. With that worry came self-doubt. I shared my concerns with my midwife, who reassured me that these feelings were completely normal during pregnancy, which brought me some relief. 

Looking back, I’d say I had one of those idyllic pregnancies. It was a time in my life when I felt truly comfortable and beautiful in my own skin, full of confidence and self-worth. I started to feel like I was reconnecting with the person I used to be. Of course, it wasn’t all perfect—like any pregnancy, it had its challenges. I dealt with mild morning sickness, sciatic pain, frequent heartburn, and the ugliest swollen feet toward the end. Yet, despite those difficulties, I still saw it as idyllic. Throughout this time, I tried to focus on the positive aspects of my pregnancy, but that persistent feeling remained. Soon, I’d be responsible for this tiny baby growing inside me—she would depend on me like no one ever had before. But with no experience, I couldn’t help but wonder, how was I supposed to do this? How was I going to manage?

I had my daughter naturally without any complications and was home with my new family within days. As you’d expect with a newborn, family and friends flocked to see our beautiful little girl, and that time in our lives felt perfect—we couldn’t have been happier. But once everything settled, I started to feel different. My anxiety had ramped up and shifted, and all I could do was worry about my daughter. I constantly checked her breathing, and even now, at three years old, I’ll go into her room, place my hand on her chest, just to make sure she’s breathing. My life became consumed by "what ifs" and worst-case scenarios.

It started to take over my life. I was constantly worrying about my husband and daughter, bombarding my husband with message after message to check if he had arrived at work safely. The anxiety extended to my daughter too—constantly checking her breathing, her temperature, questioning her sleep, her feeds, even how I dressed her. It was overwhelming. Most nights, I’d lie awake for hours trying to relax but instead, I’d just listen to my husband and daughter sleeping. It began to affect my daily life. I’d panic over running errands, avoid meeting people for playdates, and get flustered during family gatherings. I remember the exact moment my husband realised something was wrong. 

We were getting ready to visit a local community centre to get signed off by the health visiting team when my daughter was about six weeks old. We were running late, and my daughter was crying hysterically for a feed. I went to the kitchen to make her a bottle, and while I was feeding her, my husband pointed out that I was holding the bottle upside down, with the valve on the bottom. I burst into tears. I know he didn’t mean to upset me, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I wanted help. At the appointment, I struggled to talk about my feelings, wanting to dismiss them again, but my husband spoke up for me. Even though they attributed it to the baby, I knew it went deeper than that. Still, I felt a sense of relief—someone finally knew. 

Anxiety is such a complex issue, and it seems like everyone experiences it differently. For every person who struggles with it, there’s someone else who doesn’t fully understand. I’ve come to accept that anxiety is a part of me. It reminds me to cherish every moment as a mother and a wife. Over the years, there have been ups and downs. There are times when my anxiety hasn’t taken over, but then there are days when it all crashes down, and I feel like I’ve made no progress. Anxiety won’t just disappear with the snap of a finger. I have to push myself, recognize when something is too much, and focus on finding happiness.