Postpartum Existential Crisis ???
Update: I don't want to come off anon with all this but I appreciate your comments with all of my heart. I know it's going to be okay one day, I'm just having a hard time right now. Thank you so much. There's peace and reassurance in the solidarity of womanhood.
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Nobody has to read all of this if they don't want, I'm just drowning and I have to get this all out of my head and written down somewhere tangible. My baby is 7 weeks old and I'm managing a consistent 2-3 hours of sleep a day. The other 20 or so I'm overwhelmed in anxiety and sadness for my son. I'm terrified something is going to happen to him. SIDS, auto accident, undetected disease- who knows. I've become almost obsessive in checking that he's breathing, the right temperature, clean diaper, etc. I can't sleep unless his father is awake and actively caring for him, which between daily life errands and his work schedule (and his sleeping for work) is about 3-4 total hours of the day. And even then I can't sleep peacefully because my anxiety wakes me up and every 15 minutes, compelling me to micromanage my poor boyfriend's parenting."Can you hold his head up a little better?" "Can you tip the bottle more? I feel like he's getting too much air." I can't help it, but understandably he's getting annoyed that I keep "correcting" him because he feels like I doubt his competence as a parent. Which sadly I can't say I don't- but its not his fault. I can't trust anyone with my baby. I've also developed a recent fixation on human mortality. I know everybody has to die one day, but I'm bombarded with thoughts of my precious baby's death. I feel like such a selfish monster for bringing him into a world just for him to die one day anyway. I keep visualizing horrible, horrible images of finding him dead or injured, or dropping him on his head. Everything feels dangerous. I don't even leave my house with him except for his appointments. It almost makes me wish I never had him. On top of this I have hoarded about 1200 photos and videos of him in my phone. I feel like I have to capture every moment or I'll forget them, which in turn prevents me from actually experiencing them with him because I'm glued behind the camera. It's delusional but I feel like all the pictures and videos somehow make him more "real", and like if I keep taking them he can't die. All of this isn't cohesive to any one point, I'm just venting but I'm going crazy from being constantly on the brink of terror and not getting any sleep. Baby's currently peacefully sleeping in my lap and I love him more than anything on this earth. Mama's doing her best baby boy.

Achieve your health goals from period to parenting.