When My Body Became the Enemy: How I Developed Health Anxiety After Giving Birth

I didn’t know that becoming a mom could make me fear my own body.

Before giving birth, I thought postpartum life would be sleepless and chaotic, yes but filled with baby snuggles, growth milestones, and learning how to swaddle like a pro. What I didn’t expect was the spiral of fear that crept in every time my chest felt tight, or I got a weird twinge in my leg, or my heart raced for no clear reason. I didn't expect to find myself Googling symptoms at 2 a.m., convinced I was dying, while my baby slept peacefully beside me.

It started with a panic attack I thought was a heart attack. One day, a few weeks postpartum, I felt a sudden wave of dizziness, chest pressure, and shortness of breath. I was holding my baby at the time, and I remember thinking, I can’t die. Who will take care of him? I called an ambulance, crying, and was rushed to the ER. After a full workup and hours of tests, the diagnosis? Anxiety.

I didn’t believe them. Not really. How could something that felt so physical be just in my head?

But it kept happening. I became hyper-aware of every sensation in my body, every ache, flutter, or skipped heartbeat. I was convinced I had a blood clot, then a brain tumor, then a heart condition. I went to more doctors in the first six months postpartum than I had in my entire adult life. Each time, they told me the same thing: You're healthy. It's anxiety.

And yet, I couldn’t stop checking. Couldn’t stop fearing.

Health anxiety is a beast no one warned me about. I think part of it came from the sheer shock of realizing how fragile life is. Birth cracked me open, not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually. Suddenly, I had this little human who depended on me for everything. And that love, that fierce protective instinct, turned inward into fear. What if I’m not here tomorrow? What if something happens to me?

And let’s be honest, postpartum is already a rollercoaster of hormones, sleep deprivation, and identity loss. Toss in Google’s “you might be dying” search results and a nervous system stuck in fight-or-flight? You’ve got the perfect recipe for health anxiety.

Healing hasn’t been linear. There were months where I felt better, more grounded, more rational. And then there were times when a headache sent me spiraling. I’ve had to learn to manage it the same way you’d manage any chronic condition: with tools, support, and compassion.

Therapy helped. Naming the anxiety helped. Talking about it out loud instead of burying it helped. And so did connecting with other moms who whispered, “Me too.”

If you’re in this, if you’ve ever sat in the dark googling your symptoms with a crying baby in one arm, please know you’re not alone. You’re not crazy. You’re not weak. You’re not broken. You’re a new mom, living in a body that’s been through trauma, trying to stay afloat in a world that doesn’t talk enough about maternal mental health.

You’re doing the best you can with what you’ve got. And that? That’s enough.