Content warning: Mentions depression and anxiety.
One afternoon, I had just arrived home with my nearly two-year-old daughter and went to say hello to my husband, who was in bed with a cold. As my daughter and I joined him in bed, I felt a very odd sensation – not quite a dizzy feeling, but a bit like it, yet hard to describe. I kept saying, “I feel funny,” over and over. I heard my husband saying, “Lobna, you’re scaring me.” I tried to speak, but my words came out jumbled. I couldn’t string a sentence together. Minutes later, as I was trying to make sense of what had happened, the wrong words kept coming out.
I went to the hospital and got an MRI, and a few days later my doctor called me with the results. “Lobna, you have had two small strokes,” he said.
That was the last thing I expected to hear. After all, I’m a physically healthy 37-year-old woman.
I have struggled with my mental health since I was around 16 years old – maybe even earlier. As an adult, I have been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, trauma and more recently with postnatal anxiety. Soon after the stroke, I was often paralysed with fear: a headache would make me spiral into negative thoughts about having another episode. One day, I had a full-blown panic attack and called triple zero, thinking I was having a heart attack.
Having since worked through that anxiety with my neurologist and cardiologist, I can now say the stroke gave me insight I never would have had otherwise. I’ve had to think about my mortality, what it means to raise my daughter and how slowing down will make me happier.
I started to relish the small details: my daughter’s clunky footsteps, the smell of the top of her head and our baths together
In the weeks leading up to the stroke, I wasn’t coping. I worked part-time, had a toddler and was recovering from postnatal anxiety, having just regained the ability to sleep again. I was on autopilot, trying to keep everything together. My days were filled with chores and tasks, and it was all starting to get to me. After the stroke, I was forced to slow down. I realised, upon reflection, that I could no longer do more than one big activity a day – and nor did I want to. My body and mind could not afford it anymore, and it made me happier to release myself from the burden of trying to do everything. I started to relish the small details in life: my daughter’s clunky footsteps first thing in the morning, the smell of the top of her head, our baths together and sharing my plate with her at every meal.
What rattled me the most was the thought of not being able to raise my daughter if I had another serious stroke. There were times I looked at her and burst into tears. I even told my husband I wanted him to remarry if something were to happen to me. That was a painful conversation. But I knew I’d always want my daughter to have a mother figure in her life.
Writer Lobna Rouhani with her daughter. Source: Supplied
My daughter is the reason I came out of my post-stroke slump, determined to keep living my life with full enjoyment
My daughter is a firecracker, much like I was when I was younger. She doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, is curious and thirsty for knowledge, and has a deep connection to music. She’s the reason I came out of my post-stroke slump, determined to keep living my life with full enjoyment.
I am now expecting our second child who is due almost a year to the date after my stroke. It’s funny how the universe sometimes works. I now know it’s up to me to accept whatever may come – fighting it will just tire me out. Although hard, I’ve learnt that a place of acceptance is where I always want to end up.
Lobna Rouhani is a Jordanian/Iranian writer who has been awarded and Fellowships for her fiction. She works and lives on the lands of the Whadjuk people of the Noongar Nation. Find her on Instagram:
For help with perinatal anxiety and depression, call PANDA (Perinatal Anxiety & Depression Australia) on 1300 726 306 or visit . For 24/7 mental health support, call Beyond Blue on 1300 224 636 or visit . For 24/7 crisis support, call . For support in your language, visit who support people from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds.
