My Motherhood Story: How C-PTSD Changed Everything

Eleven years ago, I became a mom for the very first time.

I had done everything “right.”
I read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover.
I skipped deli meat and sushi.
I had years of nannying experience under my belt and felt so ready—ready to be the kind of mom I never had, ready to give my child the love and care I had longed for as a little girl.

And then I held my baby.

How Motherhood Awakens Past Trauma

He was tiny and perfect in my arms and in the same breath that I felt an indescribable love, I also felt a tidal wave of fear crash over me. My nervous system went into overdrive. Suddenly, the thought of keeping him safe consumed me. Every cry felt like a siren in my body. Every need felt life-or-death.

I had never felt love like that before, it woke up every unhealed wound I carried from my own childhood.

Motherhood was supposed to feel joyful. That’s what it looked like for everyone else, at least on the outside. But for me, nothing felt easy. Every day felt like walking through fog with a weight on my chest. Anxiety whispered constantly that I wasn’t enough, that I was failing, that he wasn’t safe. I remember googling EVERYTHING he did. “Why does my baby stick his tongue out so much?” “Can he choke on his spit up?” My hypervigilance kicked in and went FULL THROTTLE.

My Constant Need for Reassurance

So I searched. I read every parenting book, followed every gentle parenting blog and constantly researched milestones. I was desperate to figure out how to do this differently than the way I was raised.

But here’s the thing: the advice I found often left me more confused, not less.

No time-outs.
No punishments.
No controlling your child.

All of that sounded wonderful in theory but in practice, for someone with complex trauma, it felt impossible.

Because here’s the truth I didn’t hear in any of those parenting books:
When you grow up with abuse, neglect, or chaos, control is what makes your body feel safe.

I didn’t want to control my son the way my parents controlled me. But my nervous system didn’t know the difference. His big emotions, his tantrums, his crying—they all lit up my body like danger alarms. I wasn’t terrified of him, but I was terrified of what his feelings stirred up in me.

It felt like walking on eggshells all over again, except this time, it wasn’t my parents’ anger I was bracing for—it was my child’s.

The True Path to Healing and Breaking the Cycle

Everything began to change when I finally had language for what was happening inside me.

C-PTSD.

Complex trauma.

Suddenly, it all made sense. My hypervigilance. My panic. My need for control. My difficulty tolerating my son’s emotions. It wasn’t because I was a bad mom. It wasn’t because I didn’t love my child enough.

It was because my body had been wired by trauma.

And once I understood that, everything shifted.

I could stop fighting myself.
I could stop comparing my journey to the moms who hadn’t lived through what I had.
I could finally begin tending to my own nervous system, instead of powering through motherhood.

Moving Forward with Compassion

Learning about C-PTSD gave me the compassion I needed for myself as a mom. It helped me see that parenting differently isn’t just about knowing the “right” strategies—it’s about healing the body that is trying to parent.

My story isn’t a neat before-and-after. Healing is still a process. But the day I realized that my childhood trauma was living in my body and impacting the way I was showing up as a parent - that was the day I finally stopped blaming myself and started truly healing.

And that has made all the difference.

If you are a mom struggling with past trauma, I created something just for you. Click here to learn more.