Munch’s preschool class has a “safe place” in her classroom where friends can go to express their emotions in a safe manner. They can be sad or mad. There are pillows and cushions all around. It’s in a quiet little corner of the room. I thought this was a great concept, so we have adapted it to our own home. Munch’s “safe place” in our house is her bedroom.
I too have a “safe place”. The mom’s room, as it is affectionately called at my office, was my safe haven. I no longer use my “safe place” since I am no longer expressing breast milk. That little conference room was my escape throughout my really rough patches of my PPD and PPA. There was a couch, a chair and a table. The blinds were drawn, and there was paper over the window as well, ensuring total privacy. It was nearly sound proof. I could barely hear anything outside those four walls, especially while the breast pump was pumping away.
I shed so many tears in that room. I also suffered from a few panic attacks in that room. Once I began researching postpartum depression and postpartum anxiety, I would read my books trying to understand how I could help myself heal. I used this room to do yoga and do some deep breathing exercises. I called my mom, my sister and my therapist from that room. I am forever grateful to have had a “safe place” in which to let myself feel and just be.