Raising children is accompanied by an abundance of emotions. Anywhere from excitement, love and joy, to the less talked about, sadness, exhaustion and loneliness. Parenting does not come without its challenges. From conception or adoption, the preparation for welcoming a human into your world is a life changing process. Worry seems to come hand in hand with becoming a parent, regardless if it is your first or fourth go around. Whether your addition is an infant, toddler, child or adolescent each stage of life may pose its unique joys and struggles.

For those who do not live with mental illness, this life changing event may only create ripples or manageable waves to the family dynamic. Making adjustments to your everyday life may come easily and without many challenges. For those of us, myself included, who live with bipolar disorder (bd) this change has the potential to create a tsunami of difficulties.

Being a mother was a goal of mine since childhood. Learning of my pregnancies created joy and excitement for me. I felt fortunate to have conceived, not once, but twice, because I had experienced gynaecological complications during adolescence and adulthood which required surgical intervention.

From the start, my pregnancies were watched closely by my high-risk obstetric team, psychiatrist and psychotherapist. I was at a heightened risk for developing postpartum depression (ppd) and psychosis because of living with bd. I remained on medication that was safe for my fetus during my first pregnancy. I developed the baby blues. Because of my hyper vigilance towards my mood shifts, I was able to be on top of the shift before it evolved into ppd. I was not so fortunate with my second. I had decided to come off all medication before conceiving my second child. I had a symptom free pregnancy; however, I was plagued with morning sickness right until the end which caused me to feel extreme fatigue the entire duration of the pregnancy. Three weeks postpartum, ppd came on with vengeance. It hit hard and quickly. I had the support of my husband, family and psychiatrist which allowed me to stabilize within eight weeks, averting an admittance to the hospital.

My children are six years apart. As one can imagine parenting two children in different life stages can cause a strain. Each had their own unique needs. I was able to manage well and felt confident as a mother in my abilities. By no means was I a perfect parent but I was a good one. I contribute my euthymic state too; medication compliance, psychological and psychiatric care, a consistent sleep schedule, cooking well balanced meals, daily exercise, little to no alcohol, and maintaining meaningful relationships.

By the time my son turned two and my daughter eight, my husband and I decided to try and have a third child. This had a disastrous outcome. I came off all of my medication before trying to conceive because of how positive my pregnancy had been with my second. Within weeks I fell into a deep depression which rendered me “useless” to my family. I could barely get myself out of bed, drive my daughter to school, cook meals and take my toddler to his daily activities. I felt like a failure. Only pushing through the pain because I knew my children needed me. At first, my husband and I relied heavily on friends and family. When it became clear I needed more support we decided to put my son into part-time childcare. This decision solidified my feelings of failure. As a stay-at-home mother, I felt my job was to ensure my children were well taken care of and their needs were met. My lack of success pulled me deeper into a darkened state.

My daughter could see I was struggling. At eight years old, she was aware I lived with a mental illness, however, had never been exposed to any of my symptoms. My husband and I felt it was important to provide an age-appropriate explanation to let her know the importance of expressing her emotions and de stigmatize how mental illness was spoken about in society. Hearing about what I lived with was very different than experiencing the effects of my mood shift. My daughter had never seen me with depressive symptoms other than the brief bout of ppd I had experienced with her brother which stabilized quickly. This time my symptoms were severe and unmanageable.

My depressive episode had turned me into a different woman. I was unmotivated. Everything felt like an insurmountable task that I would fail at – so I did not even try. My children watched their energetic, engaged, fun, and happy mother evolve into a lump of a woman with the energy of a slug. I became numb and stoic but was unable to cry. I was no longer exercising, eating and sleeping. This dragged on for a year without relief. My husband was rightfully frustrated, as this created tension on our relationship and our young family. We were fortunate to have help and support for our children as I continued to sink further, developing suicidal ideation – something I had not experienced since adolescence.

My psychiatrist and I struggled to find a medication combination to stabilize my symptoms. During this process my mood shift took a turn for the worse. It flipped and my depressive state became a manic and then psychotic episode. Some would say mania is better than depression, however, for me this was not the case. Just like depression turned me into a slug, mania and psychosis created a completely different persona for me. I was impulsive, irrational, lacked insight, had zero regard for the feelings of others and became manipulative and deceitful. Any mothering skills I had once possessed, melted away and became nonexistent.

During this time of chaos, I experienced an ectopic pregnancy and surgery which did not upset me in the least. I shoved the entire experience as far back into my mind as possible. I felt emotionless with the exception of anger. I was always angry and that only fuelled mania’s fire. I left the house on many occasions, travelled, and cycled in and out of the hospital without any end to my destructive symptoms.

Allow me to be clear, I would never have left my family if I was stable. One of my bd symptoms during my manic psychosis was the inability to stay in an environment that was uncomfortable. Everywhere I went brought discomfort because of how unstable my mind was. I was acutely ill and during this time I developed anosognosia, a symptom that affects 50% of people who live with bd. It is the belief that one is not ill when they are. My fear of losing my children during depression faded when I became manic. My inflated sense of self allowed me to feel invincible and allowed me to believe that my behaviour acceptable.

My husband did the best he could to shield our children from my behaviour, however, the fury that followed me every time I came and left our home affected our daughter. Our son was still too young to understand anything that was going on but he did ask where I was and missed my presence.

It took me 18 long months to stabilize and ground myself. As the new medication my psychiatrist prescribed took its effects, it became apparent that this new combination was working effectively. Our family underwent therapy to repair the 18 months of trauma my bd episode created. Slowly meshing us back to the family we could all recognize.

It has been thirteen years since that destructive cycle nearly destroyed not only me but my children and husband as well. It took time to repair.

I contribute my decade long stability and euthymic state to a strict and consistent routine of:

1. Medication.
2. Standing appointments with my psychiatrist and psychotherapist.
3. 7-8 hours of sleep nightly.
4. Balanced meals.
5. Daily exercise.
6. Firm boundaries.
7. Managing my triggers like, lack of sleep, stress and overcommitting myself.
8. Maintaining positive relationships
9. Exploring my interests, like travelling
10. Practicing gratitude

With all of these measures still in place I can experience a mood shift. This is the nature of bipolar disorder and why it is difficult to treat and often misunderstood. I view myself as a good mother who unfortunately experienced the worse this disorder has to offer and subjected my family to the untoward and catastrophic symptoms. I have come to terms that they were uncontrollable at the time. I now focus on what I can control like my direct circle of influence in order to keep myself and family healthy.

My children are now twenty-two and sixteen. They are wonderful humans who understand the polarity of bd and are empathetic to those who live with mental illness. They understand the importance of reaching out if they feel their mental health is waning. Though my life with bd has had its horrendous moments that could have been fatal, I believe that being a mother through my most acute episode 13 years ago helped to ground me. It allowed me to focus on stabilizing not just for me but for the family I love.

This is not a conduit for self-diagnosis. My experience living with bipolar disorder will differ from the experience of others. If you or a loved one is struggling or in crisis, please reach out to your primary care practitioner or proceed to your nearest emergency room. Alternatively, the 9-8-8 crisis hotline is available 24/7 in Canada and the US.