No one Warns you about Postpartum Rage

When I fly, people often come up to me on airplanes and tell me how well-behaved my tiny best friends are. I covered in slobber and tiny pieces of food don’t see it, but I smile and thank them. On any given flight postpartum there is always a point where I ask myself, in a blind rage, why I thought I was ready for such torture.

On our most recent flight, we Sat behind a mother and her two children on the plane home from Hawaii.

The mother pleaded with her two children to stop fussing with one another. The toddler seemingly used to their older sister’s antics responded by screaming at the top of their lungs.

Their mother tried everything in her ability to calm the two, she sat across the aisle from the children’s grandfather who sat eyes fixed on the screen in front of him. Her please for them to behave got increasingly more frantic, finally resulting in staring into the little blue eyes peeking from under a mop of blonde curls and cursing him out telling him to shut a bunch of expletives up. The children’s grandfather never took his eyes off the screen.

As we deplaned hours later, she cursed out her fellow passengers for not having patience and letter her and her family off. Worried that they might trample her small son as he skipped down the aisle, finally free from his seat.

Another woman lost it, letting out an audible sigh. Once the mother was out of earshot, she complained about the woman’s mothering to anyone who would listen. ” a good mother doesn’t behave that way” a “a good mother has patience” she huffed

It made me realize that people don’t talk enough about how postpartum anxiety or the overwhelming anxiety that comes with motherhood, in general, can show up as anger or blind rage.

What is postpartum rage?

Postpartum rage is the feeling of overwhelming anger that crops up unexpectedly. It’s one of the most common symptoms of postpartum anxiety and depression. Postpartum rage is often the body’s natural response to being overwhelmed by the gravity of everything motherhood throws at you.

Your sitting down doing laundry and then not being able to find two socks that match send you into a tailspin. Your partner forgetting to wash out your favorite mug at night do you have tea in the morning or cringe at the sound of your precious baby crying.

Motherhood is akin to starting a brand new low-paid high-stakes job, with no rule book, no manual, and no support system. The benefits are trash, yet the result of how well you pull off your job has the possibility of changing the entire world. While doing this highly volatile job your hair is falling out, your clothing doesn’t fit, and your body aches in places you never known could hurt.

Can you imagine how rage-inducing it would be, to be judged for doing your very best and being constantly judged at every step even as you heal postpartum?

How postpartum rage shows up for me

I’m parenting two children in unheard of times, there’s a global pandemic, racial disparities broadcast at a higher than usual rate, I’m going through a much needed but messy divorce and its worst of all it’s winter.

We seem to quietly overlook that the body’s physical response to the new responsibility of crafting and caring for the future of the PLANET can be overwhelming. Feeling like that whole responsibility falls only on your shoulders can be even more rage-inducing postpartum.

As a stay at home moms I’ve recently realized how absolutely unfair motherhood is to mothers. For children’s healthy development they must learn to not be self centered self observed task masters, but first they must experience being just that. In order to feel safe and loved and whole they must test the boundaries of how the people in their world show up for them and be constantly reassured that the important people will continue to do so. As an adult human you’ve most likely grown accustomed to being praised for your good deeds and rewarded for your acts of heroism. Postpartum rage comers from the essence of motherhood where you find yourself being your truest kindest most heroic self on the daily and going with it unacknowledged, and eventually expected, while healing from the near death experience that is childbirth.

Its a completely out of body experience to see yourself being the absolute best version of yourself at the absolute hardest time and being rewarded with a tiny fist to the face, poop on your favorite dress and half eaten snacks stuffed into your vases.

I find that in the wee hours of the morning alone in my thoughts I wake up and think to myself. Today is going to be a great day. I silently hype myself up for how absolutely amazing my day is going to be, how much I’m going to accomplish and how very much I’m going to love on my tiny humans. Then the morning routine of complaining about brushing our teeth for the 3874648 time begins and its as if I’ve put every bit of my hope into a marry poppies moment that there are days where the sound of whining hits me like a ton of bricks. On the hardest days this can send me spiraling. Party done day ruined, me operating in numbed silence for hours.

Every human has the potential to greatly alter the course of history, a mother even more so. You’re expected to Literally shoulder the weight of the world… with a smile and that silent expectation can sometimes create the perfect storm of postpartum rage.

We’re all supposed to talk about the joys of motherhood and I feel like leaving out the fact that this thing is hard is a real disservice to all women.

This is the constant weight of motherhood.

Drop a time you lost it below to let mama know she’s not alone.