Saturday 3 March 2018

Postnatal Depression and me. Second time round.



I've made no secret of the issues that I came across post the birth of my first child Liv, back in 2015. I was diagnosed when she was 6 weeks old as having postnatal depression: something that took almost 1.5 years of her life to subside until it was just a memory. A memory that never really goes, but a memory all the same.

It was one of the most scariest, frightening and life debilitating things I've ever experienced. To feel so low and sad when ultimately you are in the proverbial 'happiest times of your life' is one of the most bittersweet things I've ever had the misfortune of experiencing. It was sprung on me, I didn't see it coming, it took me by surprise and not in a good way. It knocked me for six, that so much so, I truly believed my life was better PRE CHILDREN. It stole the newborn time from me of my first child - something that I will never ever get back again and even now (liv is 2.5) I find it so heartbreaking that most of the time I cant bring myself to think of it. So of course when I found out I was pregnant with my second child 3 months after Liv turned 2, I wondered what would be in store for me. I knew everyone else was worried, fearful even for what might or might not happen post birth of number two.

My pregnancy with Paige went as well as expected and throughout, my emotions and feelings remained stable. At this point I had been off the antidepressants for some time and there was a small part of me that thought this time, second time round, things were going to be so much different. There was nothing about having a newborn that could possibly take me by surprise right? So after Paige's birth the first few days were everything I could've dreamed of - peaceful, serene and confident. I was almost proud of the mum I seemed to of become. However on day 4 came a subtle, almost unnoticeable change in me. I felt tearful, fearful every time Paige went out of my sight. I would suddenly get feelings of butterflies in my stomach every time I heard her cry which I recognised instantly as the first trigger point when Liv was born and I experienced initial troubles. Over a mere matter of hours the anxiety was building over small things. I noticed that my appetite was slowly diminishing and the feelings of nausea started to manifest themselves. Then the next day when I knew I might be left with both girls for an hour or so alone that I found myself in floods of tears, begging my partner not to leave me with them. Everything felt like this feeling of anticipation - something was going to go wrong, I wouldn't be able to handle both girls, I wouldn't be able to soothe them, I didn't know how to be me, I couldn't string a sentence together, I constantly felt like I had to sit in a quiet room away from everyone else. I would dread pretty much every minute I was living and every second thereafter. Fear would envelope me, constraining me, causing my heart to beat in my ears so loudly. I yearned to disappear to a room, to be able to cry into a pillow, to howl loudly, to feel some kind of release of the way I was feeling. Every time I looked down at this new mound of flesh that I had just birthed I felt more and more detached and yet more and more scared and anxious. My safety net was Liv, I felt like I couldn't bear to be without her or away from her. she became my sunshine, my focus, my stability. I became almost obsessive with her - focusing on her day and night and almost ignoring the fact I had just had a newborn, another baby girl to nurture and help grow.

I was back here again. I had failed. Failed my family, my children, and myself. There is nothing more soul destroying than feeling like you've let yourself down - I had become that woman, that mum again. The nuts one. I knew that everyone was waiting for this to happen - it was the elephant in the room after I had given birth - waiting for me to fall and here I was, it had happened. It took all my power to call my Dr's a week after feeling those first tell-tale signs. What would happen to me, to my kids second time round. How do I fight this? how do I pick myself back up? how do I explain this to people? am I really worthy of having children?
To sit in that room and let my emotions roll is a hard thing to do. Anyone who has said it isn't is lying but I knew in my heart of hearts I had no other option. I HAD to do this for those two amazing little girls that were waiting for me back home. I had to do it... I HAD TOO.

So, 6 months down the line I am still here, still trying, still taking tiny stepping stones to a place of freedom from postnatal depression - the battle has commenced and I am just getting started. Thankfully I have amazing support, amazing medication and two amazing girls that are my lifeline. Im not any less of a mum, nor a person, I've discovered that deep down there is a strength inside, one to pull through and this my friends is what I intend on doing.