Why high-achieving dentists may be more prone to postnatal depression

In an honest account of postnatal depression, Amy Baers discusses the silent struggles faced behind closed doors by many new mothers in dentistry.

After days of labour, they finally pass you your baby, and you feel… nothing. Just exhaustion. They tell you that you need to wake every two hours to feed the baby. You’ve already not slept in days. Your body is broken; you don’t recognise it.

Life feels like Groundhog Day. Nappies, feeds, the torture of being woken each time you drift off. The day is spent looking forward to bedtime, only to feel anxiety at the reality that it will be spent in a lonely half-lucid daze of lifting baby up and down out of the cot, panicking you’ll fall asleep feeding and she’ll suffocate in the sheets. You think your baby is in your arms. You hear a cry from across the room. You’re hallucinating. She’s still in her cot. You want to ask for help at night, but ‘breast is best’ so you let your husband sleep.

Eighteen months in and she’s still waking every couple hours. Your mind has forgotten how to rest, you’re in constant fight or flight. You flinch at loud noises and a cry sets off a panic attack. Your chest feels tight all the time. Love has grown but you’re forgetting what it is to feel joy. Everyone tells you to savour the time, but you fantasise about just leaving. You are not built for this; they’d be better off without you.