“You cry so easily, what’s wrong with you?” my friends in school would ask me. Their words were like a dagger boring through my heart. Quite frankly, I didn’t know what was wrong or why I cried so much. My feelings were as fragile as butterfly wings.
I made peace with it and nursed the hope that I would grow a thick skin when I grew up. But that didn’t happen. As an adult, a harsh reprimand from my boss or a tiff with a colleague would bring me to tears. To buffer myself from endless crying fits, I resolved to do my best to steer clear of conflict and abrasive situations. In a world that’s ragged around the edges, that was hardly possible.
When I became a mom, I began questioning whether something really was wrong with me, as I teetered on the brink of sanity, often feeling overwhelmed and at the end of my tether.
I was just a normal person who sensed things more intensely than my counterparts.
After a little research, I discovered that I’m a highly sensitive person, and everything in my life came into focus. I was not an oddball. I was neither sick nor suffering from a disorder. I was just a normal person who sensed things more intensely than my counterparts. Oh, the relief of realizing that there was nothing wrong with me!
Highly sensitive people respond intensely to physical, social, and emotional triggers. They process information deeply. About 15–20 percent of people across the globe are highly sensitive. Some characteristics of highly sensitive people include:
· Being intuitive, perceptive, and creative
· Being prone to stress and overwhelm
· Startling easily
· Having a low pain tolerance
· Often being labeled as shy or introverted
· Abhorring criticism
· Being prone to worry
· Being averse to violence and cruelty
· Getting crippled by conflict
· Being perfectionists
· Disliking change
· Needing lots of downtime
Armed with the knowledge that I fit the profile of a highly sensitive person, I started piecing together some of the challenges I’d had in my life, especially in the early postpartum period, and was relieved to find that they all made sense in context of being a highly sensitive person. More importantly, this knowledge also allowed me to anticipate future hurdles and prepare myself accordingly.
Before I went into labor with my firstborn, I was already horror-struck at the thought of having a fully-fledged human wriggle out of me. In my home country of Kenya, epidurals were not common. My doctor did not even suggest it.
My husband, too, was skeptical about me trying a natural birth. He had lived with me long enough to know that my pain tolerance was clutching at straws. But my doctor had pumped me up and I had taken his bait. He had argued that women did it all the time; I, too, would breeze through it.
The characteristics of highly sensitive people also reared their head once I brought my firstborn home.
A few hours after plunging into the first stage of labor, however, I was done. The pain was too much for me. The nurses suggested that I suck it up because “real labor” was merely flexing its muscles. I ignored them and instructed my husband to arrange for an elective cesarean section or I would die. He knew I meant it, so he granted my wish.
In retrospect, I could not pull through with a natural birth because I am a highly sensitive person. I sense physical pain more intensely; I always have since I was a kid. It baffles me that some women can bear the horrendous pain. But thankfully, I know there’s nothing wrong with me.
The characteristics of highly sensitive people also reared their head once I brought my firstborn home. She was colicky and cried incessantly until she turned four months. At night I barely caught a wink, nursing her, singing lullabies, and sometimes joining her in howling out loud.
My friends and family advised me to sleep during the day, when she mostly slept. But I was too frazzled to join her in the land of Nod. I yearned to switch off like a normal mom, delegate my daughter to the nanny, and squeeze in a cool four hours of uninterrupted sleep. But I couldn’t bring myself to do that. What if my daughter needed me while I slept? What if she choked and the nanny didn’t know what to do? Needless to say, I was miserable without sleep. I could barely think straight, let alone nurse a needy infant. I still don’t know how I pulled through that stage.
Now I know that as a highly sensitive person, I easily get anxious, overwhelmed, and stressed. It was hard for me to trust other people (including my husband) with the baby because I was more prone to worry and (unfounded) fears.
In another example, when my maternity leave elapsed, I was horrified. The thought of leaving my baby behind paralyzed me. But wasn’t that what strong women did? Juggled the balls? My own mom had an eight-to-five job while raising all five of us. Wasn’t I woven from the same gutsy fabric? So I grudgingly dragged myself back to work.
Having made peace with my high sensitivity, I’ve made some adjustments to my day-to-day life.
Within the first month, I was a total wreck. I had to wake up at the crack of dawn each day to express milk for my daughter. This was after waking up several times in the thick of the night to nurse her. At work, I was confronted with pressing deadlines.
It didn’t take long for the cookie to crumble. The pressure on me was too much and I didn’t have the capacity to handle it all. I detested the life I was living. I was too tired, sleepy, and cranky. I was also very sad about being separated from my baby.
So I handed in my resignation letter. Jaws dropped, fingers were wagged, and reprimands were hurled at me. But I shook off societal expectations like a wet puppy ridding herself of excess water. I made peace with my personality and knew the job was no longer for me.
Having made peace with my high sensitivity, I’ve made some adjustments to my day-to-day life: I guard my daily schedule jealously. I no longer clog up my to-do list with activities. I schedule time to wind down. I say no to over stimulating activities without an ounce of guilt. I squeeze in at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep each night. I’m in tune with my high sensitivity and am better armed to deal with postpartum overwhelm if my husband and I ever decide to have a third child.
If you are a highly sensitive mother, please cut yourself some slack. Remember that you cannot be a good parent when your world is caving in. If you are like me, you are more prone to anxiety, stress, and overwhelm. Wake up each day with that realization and cut your coat according to your cloth.