by Umma
Disclaimer/TW: This book review discusses the challenges of motherhood, particularly focussing on postpartum psychosis. Readers are encouraged to prioritise their mental well-being while engaging with this material.
Our expectations of what motherhood entails are often gathered from others and standards set out on social media of mums. The darker struggles are often steered clear of.
We don’t think about how motherhood can cause an unravelling that doesn’t align with normalised expectations that: yes, the first few weeks will be hard; yes, you will feel emotionally overwhelmed and yes, you will feel physically exhausted. These are the baby blues, right? But, what if the constant intrusive thoughts that you aren’t doing enough for your baby gives way to the urge to do something terrifying. What if your mind leads you to believe that those nearest and dearest to you want to harm your baby or worst that you want to. These internal battles can be a symptom of postpartum psychosis.
Postpartum psychosis is not as widely discussed. We don’t often hear about how this serious mental health illness can affect women post childbirth. Maybe because it is rare, as according to the NHS it affects around 1 in 1,000 mothers or the stigma in speaking about the darker struggles of motherhood is what deters women. Aaisha Alvi’s memoir, ‘A mom like that’, breaks the silence on this, providing a deeply unsettling insight on how postpartum psychosis can manifest, especially if left undiagnosed.
In an interview with MWN Hub, Aaisha explained why she wanted to write about such a traumatic part of her life and what she hopes the memoir will do for others. For her, it was initially driven by the fact that she could not find anything on postpartum psychosis. But soon was precipitated by need to give a voice to minority women's experiences of this severe psychiatric illness.
As I recovered from PPP, I began to look for stories from others who had experienced this same condition as me. Although there were a lot of memoirs on postpartum depression, I couldn't find anything on PPP -- this was back in 2007. And so, when I complained about this to my psychiatrist, she off-handedly suggested that maybe I should consider writing one, and that's what got me started.
Her memoir lays bare the barriers women from minoritised communities are more likely to experience when seeking medical care post childbirth. She describes how after the birth of her first child, things did not feel quite right, for which she had approached her doctor about, however, was dismissed with, ‘it’ll get better. I promise’. There were no follow-up checks to explore the low moods and the delusional thoughts, instead she took it upon herself to google her, ‘sadness after birth’. This simple google search was able to throw up some light, at the very least give a name to what she was going through as a new mother.
There were parts of the memoir that was quite challenging to read; moments where I needed to put the book down because it was overwhelming to read any further. Her writing is greatly emotive that you find yourself getting carried away in the riot of emotions she is going through. Especially so, after her second pregnancy ended in a miscarriage, which led to as she described, ‘my second descent into madness.’ As the reader, you are swept into this vortex of despair, as the delusions take on religious undertones of god versus devil and the voices in Aaisha’s mind return in full force compelling her to do grievous acts. She is almost condemned for having these thoughts when she reveals them and that somehow it is within her capacity to control them.
The measures she takes to prevent the voices from gaining, the battles she rages with her loved ones and the cry for medical help, which sadly is neglected.
Her story brings to the fore, the harsh realities and forms of ostracism minority ethnic women tend to face when accessing healthcare services. She exposes the health inequalities shown by delays in accessing the support. Her reluctance to fully disclose to her doctor the true extent of her religious delusions as they were not of similar faith, highlights how absence of culturally appropriate care can also be another barrier. And that the only way to be heard and seen by healthcare providers is by being your own greatest advocate, insisting on getting some form of support. Otherwise, as some of the stories she mentions, including Otty Sanchez, you can fall through the net.
While this memoir is an emotionally challenging read, it is also a compellingly informative read on how this form of psychiatric illness can develop. It offers a powerful lens of understanding the nuances and myth busting of this illness. It calls to action the need to raise diverse awareness, publicly and within healthcare services. It breaks the taboo on talking about the darker struggles of motherhood. It advocates for empathetic understanding for mothers suffering from postpartum psychosis – do not demonise them. More crucially, Aaisha’s memoir does well in amplifying the need to improve minority ethnic women’s experiences of perinatal mental health care.
If you are interested in learning more about support available, the charity Action on Postpartum Psychosis provides a wide range of information and peer support network in the UK.
A mom like that: a memoir on postpartum psychosis is now available to purchase from Amazon.
Raise your voice and get connected