Health & Wellness

Why Are Some Moms Suddenly Turning to Ketamine?

July 18, 2025

Ketamine therapy isn’t just the latest viral flex on #MomTok or the jaw-dropping moment in The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives. Long before Whitney Leavitt declared she would “never do it again” on camera, clinicians had already spent decades studying this dissociative anesthetic’s power to pull people back from the brink of depression. Yet, scrolling through social media, the procedure still appears to some as a trendy spa treatment, complete with pink Stanley cups and ring light, promising to “feel the shift.”

That disconnect is exactly why Lucie Fink devoted a recent episode of The Real Stuff to ketamine therapy. Her in-studio guest, former prominent lawyer–turned–creator Lia Higgins, laid out the science, the sticker shock, and the gut-level relief that IV ketamine delivered when nothing else worked for her postpartum depression. The conversation stripped away the glossy filter off the treatment and replaced it with raw numbers, clinical facts, and lived experience.

Ketamine therapy is no joke, no miracle smoothie, and no last-ditch party drug. It’s a medical protocol that can be life-saving when handled by professionals—and downright risky when attempted in a DIY form.

Why ketamine therapy resonates beyond the hype

Higgins didn’t stumble onto ketamine through TikTok. “My therapist…suggested it,” she recalls, adding that selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) simply took too long in her case because, as the therapist warned, “Honey, we don’t have time for that.”

Fink reminds listeners that Higgins had already chronicled her postpartum spiral in Oprah Daily. The urgency came from unrelenting suicidal ideation—not influencer curiosity—and from data showing that IV ketamine “is significantly more effective…than SSRIs.”

It’s important to note that while Higgins’ therapist was working in the interest of expediency, SSRIs may be appropriate in other cases. Consult with your trusted medical care provider before starting any therapy.

How Higgins turned to ketamine therapy after postpartum darkness

Higgins describes the moment the “baby blues” crossed over into suicidal ideation: “I thought…would it be better for them?” The “them” referred to her husband and the two toddlers, both under the age of two.

She credits ketamine therapy, not social media platitudes, for reversing that death spiral. Within days of her first infusion, she “definitely felt the shift,” and by her fourth session, the depressive fog had lifted so dramatically that her clinician pronounced her “in remission.”

What an IV ketamine session really feels like

Forget rave culture clichés. Higgins arrives at a licensed Manhattan clinic, slides into a zero-gravity recliner, and dons an eye mask and a neuroscientist-curated playlist. The IV starts, and at first, she notices that she remains “very present.” Then the dissociation kicks in: She feels her body lift “like being on a virtual reality ride,” watches kaleidoscopic shapes fold into themselves, and even revisits both childbirths—this time with compassion instead of trauma.

The trip lasts under an hour. She emerges woozy, “nauseous…kind of like having a hangover,” but the emotional payoff follows within 72 hours.

The cost and accessibility debate around ketamine therapy

Sticker shock is real. Higgins pays “$550 per session,” plus an intake fee, for her downtown infusions. Insurance rarely covers more than a fraction, and home delivery lozenges—not recommended for acute depression—often fill the affordability gap. Higgins notes a “push to make this more accessible because it is such an effective treatment,” but until reimbursement catches up, many moms scrolling #MomTok will still see ketamine as a luxury drip, not a medical necessity.

Should you consider ketamine therapy?

Hype aside, ketamine therapy isn’t a first-date drug, and it isn’t DIY. Higgins underwent a psychiatric evaluation, cardiac screening, and continuous monitoring by a physician. She stresses that her “miraculous response” doesn’t mean everyone can skip conventional meds; her path simply shows another lane on the mental health freeway.

So where does that leave the rest of us, especially the millennial moms juggling toddlers, algorithms, and a post-pandemic mental health crunch? Step one is to ditch the shame narrative. Postpartum depression doesn’t care about your zip code or your follower count. Step two is to seek evidence-based care, whether that’s talk therapy, SSRIs, transcranial stimulation, or, yes, ketamine therapy in a clinical setting. Step three is to remember that real recovery rarely looks like a sponsored TikTok; it looks like Higgins on her couch, sipping ginger tea, body still achy but mind finally stable enough to plan playground dates without dread.

Ketamine therapy might never trend the way Stanley tumblers do, but for many women, it already delivers something better than clout: a fast, research-backed bridge from crisis to clarity. That’s worth more than any viral soundbite—and it’s worth a conversation that goes far beyond #MomTok and Mormon lore.