Migraines and the SAHM


As a stay-at-home-mom to a 2 year old girl, I accept that there is nothing I can do about screeching. Whether it be happy squeals or angry, high pitched screams, my day is full of very loud noises. After all, I don’t refer to my daughter as The Noisy Thing for nothing! Unfortunately, as a migraine sufferer, sometimes accepting those screeches is damn near impossible. Toddler tantrums are enough of a pain on a good day but on a migraine day, they make you want to vomit. Literally. On a good day, there is nothing sweeter than hearing your child laughing and hollering with joy but on a migraine day, squeals of delight feel awfully similar to those tantrums we were talking about earlier.

If you’ve never had the “pleasure” of dealing with a migraine, let me paint you a picture. It starts as a gentle throbbing in the temple or between the eyes. You rush to take Excedrin or Tylenol as quickly as possible and hope that you caught it in time. On a good day that nips it in the bud and you continue on about your day. On a bad day the throbbing becomes a hot, sharp, stabbing pain that I imagine is something akin to having white hot lobotomy needles inserted into the inner corners of your eyes and pushed upward through the top of your skull. At this point, light becomes nearly impossible to bear and every single noise above a level-two volume on your phone instantly makes you instantly nauseated. You have medication that can knock the migraine out but, unfortunately, the medication also knocks you out. Within 10 minutes of taking the medication you are light headed, sleepy, and kind of confused so all you can do is sleep.

And therein lies the problem as a stay-at-home parent. When you are the primary care giver you can’t just take the medicine and go to sleep because you have to be functional in case your child gets hurt or needs something to eat or drink. Plus, if your child is young like mine, they have zero comprehension of what is happening to you and are unlikely to be quiet enough to let you rest so you’d be likely end up being more miserable since the medicine has such a disorienting effect. I am so incredibly blessed that The Noisy Thing seems to sense when I’m not feeling well and gets extra cuddly on those days. She’s still just as screechy, but I can’t complain too much because she really does try to be sweet.

I can’t tell you how many days I have had like the one described above. On those days, I feel weak and like I’m a horrible mother. Those are the days I have to put The Noisy Thing in her high chair, in front of cartoons with her crayons and paper so that I can go lay down in the shower with the lights off and cry. I write this post because I want all you migraine mommies (and daddies as Hubby is also a sufferer so I know it goes both ways) out there to know that you are not alone. If you feel like you’re failing or like you are inadequate because of this miserable affliction, I want you to know that you’re not. You are just a wonderful of a parent as non-migraine parents, you just have to try a little harder on the bad days.