Third child fears

I am so ecstatic to be thinking we are adding another cute, fat baby to our family (yeah I know they dont stay that way but still) and due to everything thats happened recently I have been walking on rainbows and clouds as to how this is going to work with my life, my existing family and the future, but all of sudden on a particularly bad day when the toddler wouldn't eat her dinner for the 12837572746th time and the baby decided she'd go without a nap I suddenly thought, holy crap, there is going to be another one to add to the mix in 4 odd months time - CRAP!

So how IS a third going to make a difference - I mean, my time seems STRETCHED to the maximum as it is, I'm trying to physically work out where I might find another 5+hours a day to dedicate to a newborn... where's Hermiones time turner when you need it huh?! Currently there are times when I feel like I dont have enough hands, normally when the toddlers bum needs wiping but you can guarantee Im feeding Paige (and you dont stop feeding Paige if u want a quiet life) I only have TWO hands, not three, just two so my maths isn't all that great but even I can tell Im one hand down in this equation.
Routine... routine seems to work well with the two, yknow Liv gets all the attention whilst Paige slots in rather nicely and only lets me know she needs something with the occasional moan - fine, sorted, but WHAT HAPPENS when you add a newborn into this equation too? It was oh so easy to placate Liv when Paige was born with a bowl of sweets or ice lollies (Yep, I'm that mum) and admittedly she adored baby Paige so it kinda fitted in nicely, but oh my gosh, what will I do whilst Im trying to nurse a newborn and Liv needs food, Paige needs food - like logistically HOW DOES IT WORK!!?!?
What will happen to my eyes when I really am not getting ANY sleep. Paige has been a walk in the park compared to the shit storm that was Liv when she was born, and well, Liv she disputes sleep even now so I am well and truly up against it third time round surely?
What will happen when I take them to the park? how on earth do you watch 3 children!? how do you keep an eye on them - surely the law of averages says that one kid is going to fall off something and hurt themselves in this situation?
How do you tag team 3 kids? right now Mark tends to deal more with Liv and I'm a servent to Paige so err, the third one? who has that???
How do you fit them all in a car? Like can you? what are the rules hey?
According to recent research it says that families of three children are considered the most stressed, some considering having a third child as an indulgence (which I firmly disagree with) with some even believing that the third child is in fact a 'third wheel' in the family which horrifies me!
For me, having this third child feels so stupidly, ridiculously RIGHT. Like I've always dreamed of having 3 children, that and the fact that I miss the newborn stage as soon as they reach 6 months. But really, despite the above, I am actually so excited to be welcoming another face to the table, another smile to the photo's, another set of teeny tiny feet to walk in the sand with me, another hand to fit into mine and more arms to slip round my neck for a cuddle. I'd be stupid to think there weren't stressful times ahead but Im feeling oh so ready for this new challenge. However if anyone DOES have answers to the above questions feel free to let me know!

Learning how to deal with a subchorionic hematoma

So far this pregnancy has been scary - not just because I feel like Im still grieving and yearning over the loss of my first twin but I am having to deal with daily bleeding. Everyone will tell you that the thing they are most scared about it pregnancy is bleeding - bleeding means miscarriage right!?

Well... not always. Y'see, after finding out I HAD miscarried twin number one, but twin number two was surviving I thought that was the end of the scary time, I could go on my merry way and relish in the pregnancy that was currently live, but that wasn't meant to be. A mere matter of weeks following my twin miscarriage did I start bleeding again. I was utterly shocked and devastated, scared, sick to the stomach and so very fearful. Surely this remaining pregnancy was going the same way as the other twin? Here I found myself back in A&E, trying to shield my tear stained face from the people in the waiting area, all I kept wondering was whether the baby was still alive.

Ultrasounds and tests later showed that baby was still alive and healthy but I was diagnosed with a subchorionic hematoma - when the consultant told me this I literally looked at him blankly. This was not something I had heard of, nor had I read about in my pregnancy books. Bearing in mind this is my third pregnancy I literally had NO idea what this thing was. Subchorionic hematomas is where an accumulation of blood forms in the folds of the chorion (the outer fetal membrane near the placenta)  or between the uterus and placenta itself. The only symptoms for a hematoma is obviously bleeding, or unless it is picked up on a scan. I would love to tell you that when the consultant told me this was the cause I felt settled, because to be honest with you I didn't. Looking at the facts alot of hematomas can heal in the pregnancy and are only deemed more dangerous in the first trimester and usually go by the second but because mine started IN the second trimester and is well, still here and bleeding, I felt scared.

Statistics wise, around 1% of all pregnancies have a subchorionic bleed and most dissolve on their own. There is a rare risk for the hematoma can cause the placenta to separate from the uterine wall.

So, where do I go from here? Well, Im still bleeding. Every day. I feel like I am living in fear - sometimes Im sure the bleeding and spotting is worse than others, and sometimes its barely there. Im quite often scared to pick up heavy amounts yknow 'just in case' and the other day I had a long bout of sneezing and ended up bleeding alot which now means I'm even too scared to sneeze. I am being kept a close eye on and on my 20 week scan they will measure the bleed and keep track on it closely in the hope it starts to reabsorb but my midwife has warned me that it may be like this for the entire duration of the pregnancy and you know what... that scares me the most.

So how am I feeling? well, pretty shocking tbh. My love and joy of pregnancy is being marred by this ordeal and as pessimistic as it seems everything that has happened has made me so fearful, even when being told by the professionals that it could be fine I almost dont believe them. I have made myself acutely aware of the condition and taken it into my own hands by being more forceful that I normally would to get more care. On the outside I a putting a brave face on it, but everytime I see blood when I go to the toilet, or see it stained my stomach literally drops. Its in my head all the time and I think forever will be until the day I give birth. Im hoping my outcome is as positive as the statistics show and right now I am working on my mindfulness, living a more simple life and trying to ditch negative energy in the hope I can bring some more positive thinking into my life to enable me to deal with my grief and this situation.

The post I never wanted to write

I've started and restarted this blog post over 30 times and I  still feel Im not going to do it justice or properly articulate how I feel, this is the post that I never ever wanted to write.

I found out I was pregnant. Hooray, balloons, streamers, congrats, happy wishes - or so you would think but just 3 days after finding out I was pregnant, I started bleeding. At 9.30pm my world came crashing down. I cant stress enough that of course we weren't trying to have another baby as Paige is only 8 months old, it wasn't planned as such BUT we had always wanted 3 children and so despite it being a little sudden, it was most definitely wanted and already loved. I had yet to tell my husband as I was due to see the midwife. I just wanted to check everything was ok before I put mark through anything unnecessary (meaning the shock of us having ANOTHER baby), but ironically, the night before the appointment, at 9.30pm when I was lying on the sofa I felt something odd, like something had burst from underneath me and I instantly felt wet - as I reached down below in my trousers, there it was, a trickle of blood. My entire insides immediately ran cold and I felt physically sick. I had never experienced bleeding before so I just laid back down on the sofa in the hope that it would stop, or somehow I had made a terrible mistake and was imagining it. But it didn't stop, it started to gush. It felt like I was going for a wee, but of course I wasn't. I got up and the blood became to drip out; through my underwear, through my trousers and onto the rug below. I froze. I didn't know what to do - where do I go? what do I say? Mark was out at the time and with both girls nestled safely asleep upstairs. All I could think of doing was to ring 111 - they explained that I had to wait for a call from the on call dr but of course there could be a little wait. As I sat in my dining room, with blood flowing, my thoughts turned to the baby. The baby I knew I was losing. The baby that had shocked me, the baby that had come as a surprise but that would now be leaving me. I knew at that point I would have to call my husband home, and break the news - I was expecting but possibly losing it.

An hour had passed, and whilst waiting for the GP to call I had to break the news to Mark about him being a father again to also maybe dealing with losing the baby. It was both devastating having to tell him and see him deal with it. I just felt so guilty that it was my body doing this to the three of us (me, Mark ad baby) The GP had advised that I needed to go to A&E straight away. The drive there felt like the longest, through every turn in the road, I could feel the blood flowing out of me, soaking into another pad and I felt powerless, I didn't want to move as i suddenly felt it gush, I keep my legs crossed but upon uncrossing it would flow back out. My MIL who drove me to the hospital was amazing, she was someone who had been in a similar situation and I didn't need to make conversation with her - she just KNEW how I was feeling. Even when the tears flowed she just gently soothed me - there was nothing to be said, nothing to be discussed. When waiting at the hospital I began to think... surely, I had done this. I was the one who had carried on like normal, taken no pregnancy vitamins, I hadn't been kind to me body. My periods had stopped in January y'see and I saw a GP who said that my recent increase in dosage of my antidepressants was the cause of the delay/or stopping of my period (apparently its very known) and of course because I didn't believe I COULD be pregnant this soon after Paige I went along with it. So here I was feeling all the blame - could I have rested more? could I have taken more folic acid? could I have done something to make this happen to me? As the people filter in and out of A&E I wondered if anyone was trying to guess why I was in there? Did I look pregnant?
Hours seemed to drag by, blood tests, cannulas, admitting to the A&E ward and then being transferred to the gynecology ward all the while I could feel the life slipping away inside me. I know I should've tried to be more positive but in my heart of hearts something didnt feel right anymore. I wasn't allowed anything to eat or drink just in case I needed a procedure and in some ways I was secretly glad. I didn't want to go for a wee, I was scared. scared that everytime I sat on the toilet that id see more blood, and Id see my baby fall out of me. There was no longer any rational thought left in my head, and I was sure there would be no tears left. It's an odd one because as you're lying there in the hospital bed, just lying, waiting to hear the outcome there is often a few seconds where you feel fine, almost like a weird out of body experience, like none of this could be happening to you but then like a jolt , you are right back there.... in limbo hell.

I cant explain what it feels like to not know whether your baby is dead or alive. The waits were agonizing and when I was told that the head consultant I needed to see had just been rushed into surgery so you would have to wait it was even more agonizing, heartbreaking almost. I wanted someone, anyone to put me out of my misery. I know it wasn't their fault - hell, they were doing a great job but the minutes very quickly turned to hours, and I was exhausted - through crying and being awake all night. When the consultant was free, he explained that obviously the symptoms weren't looking good for me but they would do a ultrasound to confirm what we all suspected. Upon  entering the ultrasound room there was a room full of people, 5 different student doctors, my consultant and a nurse then obviously myself and my MIL - it was daunting, however all the student doctors asked whether it was ok to be there during this which I of course said yes - I was passed caring. My exact words were "can you just tell me my baby has died and let me go home"  I was sobbing uncontrollably and so was my MIL when the doctor began the ultrasound and his first words were "well your baby is alive" I coudn't believe what i was hearing it was an absolute shock, that feeling in the pit of your stomach where everything just drops. I couldn't believe my ears. He told me to face the screen and showed me the little baby bouncing around inside with its heart beating loudly away - so many questions flooded my mind: how? why? what? he moved the scanner along and said he could tell us why I had been bleeding. It was then that we found out I had miscarried a twin baby.

My heart broke - I was so emotionally split between grief and love all at the same time. I was beyond ecstatic that there was this little baby alive and well growing inside me but at the same time my other baby had died at 12+4 weeks old. Its brother or sister, another addition to our family. Even though I didn't know I was pregnant with twins prior to this it didn't mean I didn't love the being any less. I felt numb, shocked. The Dr looked at me like I should be so happy but in reality I felt nothing. I felt I couldn't smile, I'm not even sure if I felt relieved. I immediately felt like I was missing something in my life, something had been taken away from me too soon and I hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to him/her. I had no clue where to go from thereon - what do I do now? and even now, 3 weeks down the line I have no idea how I'm feeling. I cant articulate how I feel - in conversations I feel it necessary to glaze over it - no-one wants to hear about miscarriage, no one wants to hear about a dead baby, noone wants to hear about how I walk around with two of the most beautiful daughters in my life yet still feel like something huge has been ripped from me.



I've had friends who have suffered miscarriages before and tried to be the best a friend I can be, but the reality is, I couldn't for the life of me EVER imagine what they're going through, it is only now that I can, in some small way, feel the way they must've been feeling. So here I am, stepping through the days in some hope this baby can survive all its been through, hoping that I can get through this pain that sneaks up on me every so often. I have two already beautiful girls and please dont think I dont appreciate that - because those girls are the ones holding me together right now, its not about them nor is it really about me - its about loss and I need to accept it, take my time over it, digest it and learn to carry on.

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.

Life with two - the truth

I never ever thought about what it would be like to have two kids whilst I was pregnant with P  for two reasons: 1 - I was already busy enough with a certain little lady and 2 - I was afraid that If I actually thought about it too much, I would be put off. As a parent of just one I had got myself settled yknow - we were in a routine, me and Liv had each other down to a tee: I could tell what her actions would be like depending on her moods, she knew how I would react to certain things - we were kinda as one if you get me, and life was relatively easy, but enter another baby, and well, noone can guess what those little mounds of flesh are going to be like.

And so, with little P's arrival and 5 months down the line, here's what I know now about life with two:

- you think you couldnt pee in peace first time round? You're lucky if you even get time to pee AT ALL now. Try to shower? Yeah... good one.
- There will always be one child getting ignored: so for me it is mostly P - sounds horrific but Liv can talk and well, we all know what the sound of 'MUMMY, MUMMY, MUMMY' sounds like on repeat... you cant ignore that shit.
- You will always have dirty clothes. So when you had one, the odd snot mark was way more easier to hide, but with two? you are covered. HEAD TO TOE. If its not P vomming on me, its Liv wiping her snotty, dirty hands on me.
- Time is now of the absolute essence. In fact my days are running of that similar to the military. Every hour is planned out to make sure chores are getting done, that we sometimes, occasionally get to leave the house, and the kids are fed and watered.
- Don't ever try to be on time for ANYTHING. It takes me an age to get the two ready and OUT THE GOD DAMN DOOR and therefore I am always late. I am sometimes 30 mins early at the start of the morning, but get close to leaving time? Yep, I'm late.
- Your pace will move. alot. slower. If its not the toddler walking at a snails pace, its the fact you have to carry the life barnacle in the car seat that weighs the earth, forcing you to walk at approx one step per minute.
- Going anywhere takes baggage. I'm talking BAGS. There snacks for the toddler, change of clothes for both of them, nappies for the baby, bottles, formula, the odd random toy, some bribery chocolate/sweets.. the list is endless. And after packing all of that, you can bet your ass you'll forget your purse or keys.
- You will literally lead your life BRIBING the older child. I have to carry around a pack of haribo in order to get the kid to do anything that is outside of what she wants. Don't get me wrong she can be really compliant most of the time, however, normally when Im pushed for time, she will refuse point blank to do what I need her to do. "put your shoes on" SWEETIE. "Can you just be quiet whilst I feed P" SWEETIE "if you pick up your toys i'll give you a  sweetie" SWEETIE.
- Just when you think you're going to get sleep, ONE of the kids will become ill and wake. If you manage to get sleep with both babes you have practically won the lottery.
- You will hear yourself constantly saying "not now mummy's busy" to the eldest, that and saying their name for what seems like the 2949586747925 time that hour.
- Illnesses seem to like company so when one catches a bug, give it approx 3 days and the other child will catch it. and then when they are all better, you will contract the lurgy but of course not be able to rest.
- Childcare gets harder. Taking on one child isn't too daunting for friends, but two... well.... two brings a whole new favour to ask....
- Bath and bedtime is err..... MANIC.
- Unless your eldest is potty/toilet trained, be prepared to pretty much spend your day knee deep in nappies.
- Nap times will become the holy grail, and you will also spend from 4pm on official countdown for bedtime.
- Keeping track of what both babes are up to requires SKILLS. Master this one asap.
- The love and cuddles is magnified. You get two of everything and it frigging well is AMAZING. You cant beat a good baby squish cuddle and feeling the arms of you eldest wrapped round you whispering in your ear, they love you.

Paige Kaitlyn Helena Nash - My Birth Story

Happy New Year all of you lot! SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED - hence the reason why I've failed to blog - being pregnant, having a toddler and then giving birth does that to a girl = having NO TIME AT ALL. But here we are, 2nd January in 2018. A brand new year and Ive vowed to finally get back on the proverbial blogging horse and finally give myself some ME time and get back into writing! So without further ado, its time to introduce the newest member of the our girl gang...

On the 24th August 2017 Paige Kaitlyn Helena Nash came into the world at 1:10am. I am now a mother of two, a mother of girls - my very own girl gang. She is, believe it or not 4 months old already and the birth already seems a million years ago (it's amazing how quick you forget that pain) so the time is right for me to tell you all about Paige's birth story.... all 26 minutes of active labour...

On the 22nd August, a Tuesday, it was like any normal day - me being heavily pregnant and the task of having to attempt to entertain my hyperactive 2 year old whilst not rolling around on the floor with her. It had only occured to me at about 2pm that baby bump had been unusually quiet that day, in fact I think the last time I had felt her move or kick was the previous night. I had visited the hospital with reduced movements previously and everything had been fine so I wasnt overly alarmed. I had been told by many people that nearing my due date the babies movements would slow down, so at 38 weeks I kinda figured this was the cause. After calling the Maternity Assessment unit at my local hospital, Wexham, I was told under no circumstances that I had to come in immediately. I mentioned to the midwife on the phone that obviously it was probably because the babies due date was approaching and she said that absolutel that was the incorrect thing to be thinking. I was shocked. I had been told by SO MANY people that it was totally normal to not feel the baby so close to the due date that I just figured this was it.
I arrived at the hospital and was hooked up to the machines - my blood pressure had already been taken and was thankfully normal (I was on blood pressure tablets at this stage) Anyone that has gone into be checked for reduced movements knows that the second you get hooked up to the mahcines to monitor baby, that the little buggers get moving - this had hapened to me on all my previous occasions so I expected exactly the same however little bubs still remained quiet. After an hour of monitoring it was decided that there was no need to keep me hanging on, and after a swift and rather brutal examination *down there* they informed me that they would like to break my waters and get things moving. I was so excited, finally I would get to meet the newest member of my girl gang, although it came with a down side - I had to be admitted to the ward until I was ready to be taken to the labour ward which would mean leaving Liv.
Leaving Liv is never or has never been an option for me - Liv and I have spent pretty much every day together since the day she was born, shes my right arm and I am hers. The very thought of leaving her made me feel just a little bit sick but I was left with no other option so off to the ward I went. We all know how you never EVER get any sleep in hospitals and let me tell you,this stay was no different. During the night I was getting more and more frequent and stronger contractions but after a night and morning they suddenly stopped. Sitting on that ward was like the worst kind of torture - women coming and going, women in the deep throes of labour and some not even making it to their bed before having to go to the Labour ward!
However at 6pm on the Wednesday it was finally time for me to go.......suddenly I didn't feel all that excited anymore and truth be told, I was crapping it, all of a sudden I actually had to give birth,and well, that's not really something I relish... my foof was already wincing!
My waters were broken for me and despite reading several horror stories about it being really painful it was the opposite. I had a trainee midwife do it and she was amazing. Quick and painless it was all done and dusted so quickly. I barely evenly flinched. I was told by my midwife that they would give me just an hour for my contractions to kick in otherwise they'd have to intervene and put me on the hormone drip, something that I wanted to avoid altogether as I had past experience when I had liv. In an effort to get the ball rolling so to speak in time, I went off on a traipse round the hospital. After a good 20 mins I went back to my room to try and relax but no longer had I sat down on the bed did I start getting some strong surges and that my friends is where it ALL kicked off.
It's amazing how little I remember about the actual labour but things progressed so quickly and before I knew it I was pretty much screaming at the midwife that I wanted to PUSH... unfortunately my very lovely midwife kept telling me that it was too soon and there was no way that I would need to push. She was soon eating her words because just 20 minutes of labour I was ready to push this baby OUT!
6 minutes of pushing and little P came to this world - it was incredible experience: liberating, empowering and well, very quick. I so desperately wanted an epidural - I had it all in my birth plans, but little P had other ideas and came far too early that there was no chance of that, so with a little gas and air I managed to give birth exactly as I had dreamed of but was told I never would be able too.

Pre-birth I had already decided that I wasn't going to have any preconceptions of what type of birth I would like. With Liv, nearly every hope and dream of anything remotely natural got taken away from me and I ended up with having a  birth with so many interventions that it lead me into quite a dark place post birth. So obviously this time round I was petrified of the same thing happening again and therefore refused to really even think of labour and what I would and wouldnt like because yknow... it was never going to happen (or so it was drummed into me by various hospital staff) To me, Paige's birth was dreamlike - I've never felt that in control (or in the much pain) and I am absolutely positive this type of birth helped and enabled me to come out of the birth situation somewhat more positive, compared to how depressed and almost scarred I was from Liv's.


So there we have it..... my little P - the missing piece.

Postnatal depression and me - two years on

I wasn't sure if I should write this, I certainly wasn't sure if I should press 'publish' either. In fact, I must have started typing and then stopped a gazillion times, but hey, here we are.

Liv is two years old, it has been two years since she was born and two years since I was in the midst of the most terrible mental health breakdown ever. Y'see I was diagnosed with postnatal depression after the birth of my lovely Liv and therein began my journey, one of the most difficult and hardest journey I've ever experienced and probably will ever experience in my life.

I've talked very openly about my struggles with this debilitating illness, an illness that ruined the first 4 months of Livs life for me. I was stuck in my body, in my mind that wasn't ME. I felt no bond with my child, but at the same time my anxiety at being away from her reached fever pitch if I even dared to go upstairs in the house without her, I couldn't handle my husband going back to work after paternity leave and used to hysterically cry at the door, begging him not to leave me alone with this thing. Back then, Liv wasn't my child, she was this thing that was given to me, not even as a gift, but as a burden. She had taken away my existing life, everything that I had once known and loved. I was no longer me, I was being punished, I was living in hell. I hated myself at this person I had become and was, when whilst I was pregnant all I wanted to do was to be the perfect mum. There in came the day where I could no longer take it anymore and rang my midwife and begged her to come to me otherwise I was going to walk out on my daughter.... I had admitting this. I sound nuts, and in fact I probably was for a long while but something inside me told me I couldn't cope, I needed help. And thats where my long road to recovery began.

They call it a road to recovery purely because it literally has every twist and turn you could ever imagine. I've had moments where I genuinely thought i was getting better only for the next hour to feel like I wanted to disappear never to come back. I've been on medication only to think I was better and taking myself off them, then shortly having to go back on them. I've had counselling and different therapy, I've talked to friends and family, spoken to people I dont know about PND and tried to come to terms with just how much this illness affected me and those around me.

Two years since the diagnosis so where am I now? I am off medication and no longer have therapy. Do I still suffer from PND - absolutely. I think in my hear of hearts this 'thing' will never ever go away, I will just have some really good sound days and others where there is no other option but to cry my way through the day. Ultimately I've learn how to be kinder to me - being a mum is so draining both physically and mentally that I think unless you take time for you and be kind TO YOU, there will be no other way out than to drain yourself of who you are. I've also learnt to filter my relationships - no longer am I in contact with people who are toxic to me - those with too forceful opinions, those who drain me of the positive. Instead my small quota of friends is perfect and yknow waht? they like me for me. I try to be more open with my feelings too now - so when Im having a bad day I wont try to fake it, ill acknowledge how Im feeling, process it and hopefully move on. but dont get me wrong, there are still the very dark days.

Its no secret that I am petrified of having to go through the same thing post baby number two - it is filling me with dread and is, somewhat, taking away any kind of planning I might want to do for fear of not knowing 'how Im going to be'. My only way of getting through this is thinking how things, if they do go wrong, how I can change them and get help quicker. I have a much better support network than first time round and with my past I feel Im able to maybe talk about it a little more, I do sometimes think people are waiting to see if it DOES happen but hopefully this time round I can lean on the right type of people and get myself out from underneath the dark cloud quicker.