- 22
- Mar
- 2025
Motherhood, which is considered one of life’s most beautiful experiences, is often idealized. Behind the picture-perfect image, lie darker realities, marked by physical pain, lack of support, and psychological upheaval. Between baby blues and postpartum depression, many mothers find themselves isolated, misunderstood, and sometimes even in danger. Faced with this still deeply rooted taboo in Lebanon, some women are breaking the silence to share their stories and help those suffering in the shadows.
What’s the first toy we give a little girl? Of course… what could be better than a doll she can feed, bathe, dress—basically, mother. That’s how, from a young age, she’s seen primarily as a potential mother. And truly, giving life to another human being is a fascinating thing. It is one of the most beautiful experiences one can have on Earth. But how many stories have you heard that contradict this fairy tale—especially from a mother’s own mouth?
“It Was Horrible”
“It was horrible”—those are the words Maya* uses to describe the childbirth she had been eagerly awaiting. “The doctor arrived late and started yelling at me to push, saying the baby was in distress. Suddenly, he shouted, ‘I’m going to cut, ma’am,’ before delivering the baby with forceps,” she recalls bitterly.
Maya’s suffering didn’t end once her daughter was in her arms. Her uterus wouldn’t contract, and she began hemorrhaging. “Hell started after the birth… I literally felt like I was dying. My memories are hazy, but what I can’t forget is the midwife’s face staring at me as she said, nastily: ‘If this had happened to you fifty years ago, you’d already be dead.’”
For Geoana Hobeiche, it was silence that defined her cesarean birth. “It was cold, I had been strapped to a gurney, 36 students were watching me as things were explained about my body, without anyone asking for my consent. I was powerless. Then suddenly, they started moving my body, they handed me the baby… he wasn’t crying… I didn’t know if he was okay, if he was breathing… nothing! They were waiting for me to lose it before telling me he was fine.”
Though Maya’s and Geoana’s experiences were different, they echoed the same words: “No one prepared me for this!” Words that reveal the lack of support from medical staff before, during, and after childbirth. It’s worth noting that Maya gave birth in France, Geoana in Lebanon, both with experienced gynecologists in renowned hospitals.
Regardless of their experiences, both were forced to breastfeed.
“Everything Fell Apart”
Following these traumatic experiences, both Geoana and Maya went through what’s known as baby blues.
“I arrived home with the baby, opened the door, stepped inside… and that’s when I realized my life would never be the same again. There was this living being trying to communicate with me, and I had no idea what he wanted or what he was trying to say. Yet I was forced to respond to his needs… And at that moment, everything fell apart for me,” Geoana recounts, her voice hoarse.
Maya, rolling a cigarette, shares her experience: “I would look at my daughter and cry every day for two or three hours. It lasted ten days after giving birth. I was very sensitive and couldn’t stand my husband… I stopped talking to him.”
“Four out of five women experience baby blues after childbirth, with varying levels of intensity,” explains Professor Georges Abi Tayeh, head of the obstetrics and reproduction department at Hôtel-Dieu de France hospital. “Baby blues is an emotional state caused by hormonal changes after childbirth. Physical strain impacts morale, and a difficult pregnancy and/or birth can certainly contribute to that.”
Women with baby blues may face intense emotions, nervousness, frequent crying, sleep or concentration issues, and eating disorders—binge eating or anorexia. They may also reject motherhood and their child, questioning their family life and relationship.
Both Maya and Geoana were deeply attached to their newborns, yet they couldn’t escape feelings of regret.
“I wanted him all to myself, and at the same time, I didn’t want him at all…” says Geoana. “It wasn’t him I didn’t want—I loved him very much. It was the responsibility I didn’t want. I felt incapable of being the mother I wanted to be. That’s where the regret came from—because I didn’t want to fail,” she continues.
Maya’s regret, however, was laced with anger.
“I regretted putting myself in that situation. I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. It wasn’t me, and I knew I’d never be myself again. I had so much anger toward nature, toward everyone, toward the system… It’s unfair that we go through this simply because we’re women,” confesses Maya, who has spent her career highlighting global inequalities.
On the Edge
Fifteen days after giving birth, Maya had stopped eating and sank into depression. Geoana, too, lost her appetite and couldn’t bear to have her baby in the room. Their baby blues had turned into postpartum depression.
“In nearly one in five women, if untreated, baby blues can persist and evolve into severe postpartum depression, requiring intensive treatment and medication,” explains Professor Georges Abi Tayeh.
“A woman suffering from postpartum depression can see her personal, family, sexual, and professional life affected. This type of depression should not be taken lightly, as it can genuinely endanger both the woman’s life and that of her child,” he warns.
For Geoana, that danger became real. One night, alone with her crying baby in her arms, she stood on the edge. “We lived on the fifth floor… the window was right in front of me… I looked at my child and thought: ‘What would happen if I opened my arms and let go, then went back to sleep… would anyone know it was me? Would he die instantly, without suffering?’” she whispers. She catches her breath, swallows hard, and continues: “Suddenly I realized I didn’t want him to suffer. ‘Better that I throw myself out the window. I’m useless… without me, he’ll have a good life!’” she says, her eyes brimming with tears. That night, disaster was narrowly avoided.
“They Just Tell You: Smile… You’re a Mom”
As dark thoughts took over, Geoana followed her loved ones’ advice and went to see her gynecologist. “He barely looked at me and just said: ‘Every day, hundreds of women give birth around the world. You’re not going to be the one who gets depressed. Pull yourself together and go home!’” she recalls.
Loved ones tried to console her, but to no avail. “People don’t understand how you can feel so broken when you’ve just given life to a child… They just say, ‘Smile, you’re a mom!’” she says.
Maya, meanwhile, faced severe medical complications that overshadowed her mental health. “I was scared… I absolutely had to recover and care for my daughter at the same time. I no longer had time to worry about my mental health. No professional cared either,” she says.
However, Professor Georges Abi Tayeh considers such neglect unacceptable. He laments not only the lack of resources but also the indifference of some professionals. “Dismissing a woman who asks for help can destroy her. Many doctors—let’s call them technicians—fail to treat the patient as an individual and lack the initiative to offer real care,” he states.
He notes that few maternity hospitals in Lebanon provide psychological support for women after childbirth. At Hôtel-Dieu de France, where he practices, close monitoring of new mothers has been implemented. “We introduced a test to determine whether a woman is at risk of baby blues or postpartum depression. We listen to them and offer close support.”
Breaking the Silence
Professor Georges Abi Tayeh also emphasizes how difficult baby blues can be to detect—especially when women feel ashamed to speak up. “Some women don’t dare seek help for fear of being labeled as crazy, which complicates their recovery,” he explains. He encourages all new mothers experiencing symptoms—sleep issues, loss of appetite, extreme nervousness—to take care of themselves, seek help, and speak up.
Speaking up… that’s what saved both Geoana and Maya.
After being dismissed by her gynecologist, Geoana refused to give up and began an online training program with a London-based center to become a postpartum support specialist and help herself. “The more I read, the more I understood. That’s how I was able to heal,” says the mother, who has since built a strong bond with her son.
Today, Geoana Hobeiche has made it her mission to support other women. She created an Instagram page to raise awareness and encourage mothers to overcome their shame. As a mother of two, she now offers free support to women in distress, helping them navigate a reality that remains taboo in Lebanon.
For Maya, writing served as therapy and aided her recovery from depression. She openly discusses her journey at work and at home. Today, she writes for her daughter, who just turned six. “I told her everything. I don’t want to hide anything from her. One day, when she’s older, she’ll read it all and be a strong woman!” Maya says, encouraging all mothers to do the same.
“We must break the silence… these women, these mothers… must overcome the shame and speak out!” she concludes.
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