I Never Told Anyone This, But I Almost Left My Family

The “Tea” section publishes long-form personal essays that can be read in the time it takes to sip a cup of tea.

I never told anyone this, but the worst depression I ever experienced was not in my turbulent adolescent years, but in the immediate aftermath of two of my most joyful moments – having my first two daughters, Emma and Lillia.

I recall always knowing that I wanted to have children.

I also recall always having an unstoppable drive to achieve. And, more importantly for setting the stage for what I’m about to share with you, I also recall not giving my desires to one day get married, have children, and have a fulfilling career, a second thought.

I want to be clear and deliberate here because the previous sentence intentionally did not highlight that I wanted to get married, have children and also have a fulfilling career, because for me, both drives are indisputably and equally deserving of attention rather than the latter taking second seat to the former.

This, of course, is not to suggest that when push comes to shove, I would sacrifice the well-being of my family for my career, but it is to proudly affirm that, for me, both family and career exist on equal planes, with identical wingspans – both a part of ensuring that my lifelong dreams are realized and take flight.

Before I had children, I never once considered that these two intricately linked desires, and now, core elements of my identity, initially would be realized in such divergent and chaotic ways.

A Potential Heartbreak

As we move further into the 21st century, it should not surprise anyone that so many women desire to have children and satisfying and growth-driven careers and yet society hasn’t quite figured out how to support this, leading to a lot of potential heartbreak along the way.

In my case, that heartbreak had been realized after my first two pregnancies, spread out over two years.

I vividly remember being increasingly angry and resentful that, as an exclusively breastfeeding mother to my oldest daughter, Emma, until she was 6 months old, I very much lost a lot of my freedom to spontaneously travel, even if only to the grocery store, because save for a minimally effective breast pump, I was always on call as my daughter’s meal.

Being needed in that way is as precious and powerful as it can be suffocating, especially if you’re not prepared for the changes that come, something that is hard to reconcile when you otherwise know you are blessed with such a gift.

I was fortunate, though, in the postpartum period of my first pregnancy to come out of the moderate fog of depression within a couple of months and with some counseling. But, true to any good suspense or thriller, my story didn’t end there.

As I grew into my role as mother, unintentionally and by happenstance, I faltered as I didn’t also continue to grow professionally. With just one child, I wasn’t able to make that realization until two years later when I had my second daughter, Lillia.

The professional losses I had incurred right after Emma’s birth had never been rectified, and so they were then also compounded by Lillia’s birth and, rightly or wrongly, my inability to figure out at the time how to balance my commitment to them as their mother and my commitment to myself in pursuit of my dreams.

I was so deliriously in love with both babies, but, again, my frustration, resentment, and anger at always being “on,” and having to mother, built up. Before I had children, I only abstractly knew that parenthood is a 24/7/365 job for the rest of my life. It was one that I wholeheartedly took on with my husband, but one that required immense adjustment. It wasn’t until I actually started to experience motherhood that I was called to endure a harsh reality check.

Though I admittedly have a medical history that includes clinical depression during my most formative years, which put me at higher risk of developing Postpartum Depression and Anxiety after my first and second pregnancies, what I experienced should not be categorized simply as a logical conclusion of being high risk for PPD to begin with. It was so much more than that. It wasn’t just chemical imbalances, but rather situational warfare.

At the center of it all was this feeling of being disconnected from who I previously was as a vibrant professional to someone who had become, if only temporarily, a perpetually exhausted parent who felt like there were never enough hours in the days, weeks, and months, to make noticeable and measurable gains in my career and thrive in it, while also maintaining, with my husband, our marriage, our partnership, our friendship.

Looking At The Door

There were too many considerations about my career and my family at all hours of the day that had to be made, but that often included decisions of real consequence that demanded careful consideration yet oftentimes relatively quick deliberation which was so fatiguing that I could do nothing but feel paralyzed and overwhelmed.

And of top of all of that, I was still feeling as if I was no longer treading water professionally, trying to advance in my freelance consulting business and my career, but actually finally drowning, with no aid in sight, leading me to the point that when my second daughter, Lillia, was four months, I was so overwhelmed with anger a profound feeling of defeat and resignation that I would never live up to my potential, that I increasingly thought of how I could get out of my situation.

But how could I?

For anyone who is a parent to babies, or knows someone in that position, I’m convinced that the sleep deprivation that is often joked about is trivialized because it can be so awful, jarring, and frightening that you really do have to laugh to keep from crying.

So, as I was so exhausted, and losing the steam and the vitality I previously had, I would let my mind wander, first once, then twice, and then multiple times, to how I could address my troubles. It was not pretty. Problem solving when you’re physically and mentally fatigued and consequently compromised is messy. It’s arduous.

I am not proud of the fact that on more than one occasion, I considered what it would be like, and mean to me, and everyone close to me, to leave my family, move back to New York, and start anew.

Perhaps I would be known as Aunt or Auntie Mom, or more likely, some name much more profoundly hurtful for abandoning the ones I love and cherish most.

Perhaps I would limit myself professionally when inevitably, information about leaving my two very young children and husband would come out, with some kind of new age audible scarlet letter being echoed throughout my various professional and social networks, damning me to a lifetime of professional mediocrity and personal turmoil and hurt for all involved.

When I wasn’t daydreaming about what it would be like to divorce my family, I am also not proud to say that I wondered, sometimes more seriously than others, about what the impact would be if I bowed out of this life. Those thoughts were always simultaneously harrowing and in many ways liberating.

The idea that by giving in to the current, by accepting that you are too fatigued to go on, and resigning yourself to the waves that consume you, you may not find glory, but you will find finality and with that finality, peace, is not new, and yet it is so tempting, and so seductive.

I am proud to say that despite being in the midst of perfect storms following both of my pregnancies, I was, and continue to be, blessed with a strong support network that includes family, friends, and healthcare providers who could ultimately pick up on the darkened signals I sent out to ultimately serve as bright beacons guiding me back to shore.

It ultimately came to pass that working as a freelance consultant, from home, was no longer an ideal situation for me or my family. Working from home with a toddler and a newborn proved too chaotic and stressful to be healthy and beneficial. Because of some incredible fortune, I was able to secure employment consulting and doing programmatic work for a university.

A Year Later

It wasn’t until nearly a year after returning to the workforce that I was able to put enough distance between the rough waters I had nearly drowned in and myself, safely back on the shore, to ultimately, deeply reflect and speak with other women, and those closest to me. In doing so I realized that the root of my troubles was not that my family and work life weren’t balanced, but rather that they had never been integrated.

I learned that for myself, and so many other women, there was no cohesive, well-known framework that helps women prepare for the realities of what lies beyond the shoreline, on land, as they ready themselves to pursue and realize their dreams to have children and satisfying and forward-moving careers.

When I analyzed what I had gone through, I realized that I nearly succumbed as a result of a confluence of factors, including some very real psychiatric issues, as well as my inability to make sense of so much information to make the decisions that could maximize my ability to thrive in my family and career, as I had always dreamed.

I realized that if I could have somehow harnessed the increasing wealth of information we have about pregnancy, postpartum, and career paths, to have guided my way in real time, before Emma’s and Lillia’s arrivals, I would have been better off.

With that realization, I founded Arkatecht, LLC, and got to work on how to do just that, if not for me, then certainly for other women and their families, and, of course, for my precious daughters for whom I wish for nothing less than health, happiness, and the realization of their dreams.

After months of conducting exhaustive secondary and primary research, I found that I was not alone in my struggles which was self-assuring, harrowing, and incredibly disheartening.

Making An Impact

I found that especially among professional women who rightly see themselves as not only capable of achieving great professional feats, but called to do so, the road to success in family and career is often one fraught with unspoken challenges and unintended consequences that often start in that wondrous and transformative transition from pregnancy to motherhood in the professional context.

I found that, again, the issue wasn’t truly one of balancing both, but of framing the planning for family and career, particularly professional advancement, as one of integration, of simultaneously considering the realities of each and its impact on the other.

I started developing a digital tool that would serve both as a beacon and an aid for women as they start their journeys to motherhood in the professional context, starting in their pregnancies.

A tool that would guide them along the way, and advise them as to what they could expect from their bodies in order to more effectively and efficiently navigate their jobs to yield successes both in their family and careers.

A tool designed to further not only the evolution of technology so it is most impactful, but also that of progress made by women in the workforce, with positive spillover effects not only for their families, but also their employers, and society at large.

A tool designed to simultaneously facilitate personal and professional flight because just like me, we all can soar, there’s no doubt in my mind about that.  It’s just that before we can soar, we must first endeavor.

Written by Yasmin J. Mattox, founder and CEO of Arkatecht, LLC.

Originally posted 2018-02-22 08:40:35.