What I learned while being ill
When I had my baby my mind broke down, but it both taught and showed me things about family
Welcome back to ‘Eyb, my newsletter where I write frankly on topics that I would be told not to talk about while growing up as a young Arab woman. I also share my crazy life anecdotes, as well as what I am currently writing, reading, listening to, and watching.
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Many of you who follow me on Twitter (@underyourabaya) and Instagram (writereadeatrepeat) know that when I gave birth to my son Ammar nine months ago very soon afterwards I had a complete mental health breakdown. Literally the day I had my C-Section I stopped sleeping. I thought it was just the adrenaline from having a baby but the insomnia continued for weeks and this then led to my anxiety, panic attacks, OCD and even depression - I had never had depression before - all coming back.
Last week my article on postnatal anxiety and OCD was published in The Femedic. I felt it was important because everyone speaks about postnatal depression (and rightly so) but there is little awareness about postnatal anxiety and OCD. Read my article here.
People often speak about postnatal depression as if it is just “the baby blues,” but I am here to tell you that it is a lot more serious than that. It isn’t about “feeling sad.” On my worst days I felt a terrifying sense of anguish, it was as if there was a metal vice clamped on my chest; I felt a severe sense of hopelessness and despair, it was as if I was in the middle of a very dark vortex that I could not see my way out of. It was the most terrifying feeling that I would not wish upon my worst enemy.
And I wanted to slap every single person, my husband included, that kept telling me to “try and be positive” as it was actually mentally and physically impossible. I felt as if there was something chemically wrong in my brain (which it probably was along with postnatal hormones) making me feel this way; it was completely out of my control. I’m happy to report I have recovered, and my faith in Allah has a major part to play in it as my daily prayers gave me that tiny bit of hope that I could keep going. I strongly believed in Allah’s promise that with every hardship comes ease - and I knew it would not last forever, it just felt agonizing not knowing when I would finally start to feel better.
Although it was extremely difficult, spending every day feeling as if I was about to die, I tried my best to still see what was good in my life. I joined various Facebook support groups which were a lifeline on my most debilitating days. People in the groups spoke about their illness teaching them something and I thought they were bonkers. But as time went on, I discovered that actually there were many things that my illness was not just teaching me, but showing me.
Those of you who have been subscribers for a long time may remember how scared I was when I was pregnant that my in-laws would interfere or try to tell me how I should raise my son. I even thought to myself that if anything was to happen to me and my husband I would want my family to raise my son.
Turned out I was very wrong.
One of the things that made my recovery possible was the help of my in-laws. They practically took care of my son, taking over the night shifts (which I tell you isn’t fun when he kept waking up every 40 minutes) so that my husband could work and rest. My father-in-law bought me fresh fruit and smoothies everyday, and my mother-in-law cooked me whatever I was able to eat as I virtually had no appetite. My sisters-in-law let my baby sleep on them for hours and played with him when I couldn’t.
I had manifested this image of my parents-in-law trying to dominate my son’s life and stop him from doing things (I mean, what things did I think a baby could do anyway except from sleep, poop, drink milk, and play?!) I do think a lot of it was fear though from things I had heard from friends and read online from experiences of other women in extended South Asian families. So one of the good things that came out of my illness is that I have become closer to my in-laws, and lot more understanding and compassionate.
Unfortunately, and this was the most upsetting part, having a baby and getting ill had the reverse effect of what I had anticipated in my mother-daughter relationship. I felt as if my mother had taken a step back rather than come forwards to be there both with me and for me. I spent many days crying, wondering why there was a lack of urgency or interest in seeing me or my baby. At the excuses from her side when I tried to include her in his life and she said she couldn’t be there.
If I am to look at it with nuance, perhaps me having a baby re-opened a lot of old memories and emotions for her. Perhaps seeing the huge amount of support I received from my in-laws was a reminder of all the times she was left alone by my father and her mother - her family never offered help and her in-laws were in Egypt - each time one of her 5 children were born. Perhaps she had fear that now I am a mother that I won’t be there for her as much as I was before. But it still hurts.
So the members in my Facebook support groups were right. You do learn things in illness.
What I have been writing…
(Illustration copyright of The Femedic)
As mentioned earlier, I wrote about my experience with postnatal anxiety and OCD, and why it isn’t something many women are made aware of, for The Femedic. Read it here.
In my last newsletter I wrote about the horrific epidemic of femicide in Arab countries. I examined the rise of femicide in Egypt and why men think they can take women’s lives so easily for The New Arab. Read it here.
I also wrote an op-ed for The New Arab on why it is Arab states’ outdated penal codes are the root cause of their inability to achieve gender justice. Read it here.
What I have been reading…
Sometimes I struggle with non-fiction - that’s right! Egyptian British poet, writer, and playwright Sabrina Mahfouz is incredible talented when it comes to writing it, as shown in her new book These Bodies of Water. Part memoir, part poetry and spoken word, and part polemic on British imperialism in the Middle East, this book will take you on a journey around the Arab world and explain how water as a resource - not oil - was the driving force behind British colonialism in the past, and behind its foreign policies in the region today. I learned so so much and will be interviewing her soon!
Finally, if you like my work, how about supporting me by buying a copy of my semi-autobiographical novel, Hijab and Red Lipstick? Based on my life growing up in Qatar, Hijab and Red Lipstick is about what it is like to grow up as a young woman under the Gulf guardianship system.