Lisa and Matt with their daughters, Nina and Lulu.
More than 1000 Australia parents are diagnosed with post natal depression every week.
Every. Week.
As this is Post and Ante Natal Depression Awareness Week, we’re bringing you the stories of two people who have been dramatically affected by post natal depression.
The first is from Lisa – she suffered from depression after the birth of her twin daughters. Tomorrow we’ll bring you Matt’s story. Matt is Lisa’s husband and he writes with searing honesty about his experience of living with Lisa during her difficult ordeal.
This is Lisa’s story:
From the moment I realised I was pregnant, I was overcome with feelings of loss and grief. I was no longer an autonomous individual. This was the beginning of a journey that took me to a place of additional and unimaginable loss – loss of control.
I was a self-confessed control freak, symptomatic of my lack of self-confidence. I never took on anything more than I knew I’d have the best chance of being able to cope with so that everything I did do was done extremely well. So to the outside world and everyone around me, I appeared completely confident and capable not at all someone who ever needed help.
The first real test of my attitude to having children was when my husband and I decided in July that we would stop trying to avoid pregnancy and if nothing had happened by the end of the year we would start actively trying to conceive, giving us plenty of time to get used to the idea again of having children.
Less than one month later I was pregnant. At a very early ultrasound scan it was found that I was 7 weeks pregnant – with twins. I was absolutely horrified but simultaneously overcome with guilt that the ease with which I, someone who was so ambivalent about having children, could get pregnant and with twins!
There were people, like my sister- in-law who’d been trying IVF unsuccessfully for years, who were desperate for children who couldn’t fall pregnant and here I was doubly pregnant after one encounter with my husband! I felt awful.
A feature of my need to maintain some control was my extreme fear of the pain of childbirth, so I attended hypnobirthing classes and practised the exercises diligently. When I was handed a slip of paper at 35 weeks gestation informing me of the date of my planned C-section at 37 weeks, 5 days due to the presenting twin remaining in breech position, I felt absolutely devastated – ‘failure’ for not having the natural birth I had wanted.
Lisa and Matt with their daughters Nina and Lulu on holiday.
Two hours after birth, twin 2, Lulu, latched onto my breast perfectly and had a lovely feed.
Twin 1, Nina, was smaller and had trouble latching on. The first or second night in hospital I was unable to settle Nina and felt horrified and ashamed when the midwife informed me that she must be really hungry because she hadn’t been fed for a long time.
I’d forgotten to feed one of my babies! – Failure. Again.
I was terrified of taking these babies home and having to take care of them myself being so incompetent and ignorant of their needs.
Day 6 and the day to leave hospital came and I was anxious all day. I had such an overwhelming urge to burst into tears and ask them to let me stay in hospital, but I tried to ignore it.
Once again I had worked hard to give the impression that I was in control and confident. I put my fears and anxieties down to natural first-time parenting jitters and forced myself to smile. But I remember vividly standing in the doorway of my hospital room ready to leave with the double pusher all set up waiting for my husband to return from the car.I was sweating, I was having heart palpitations, my mouth was dry and I wanted to throw up. I was looking at those two babies in that room gripped by fear and anxiety. I am leaving the controlled environment where there is expert help on hand 24/7.
Thankfully, my husband had made provisions so that he could take 8 weeks off work. He was there to help with everything: washing, cleaning, shopping, preparing meals, baby care. Instead of enjoying this time, I obsessed over how I was going to manage to do all this when he returned to work.
It was with breastfeeding that my obsessional, rigid, all-or-nothing, one in, all in mindset really manifested itself into a monolithic beast on which I focused my need to try and gain control. It also represented the point of conflict between two competing interests on a single point of control – my body. I desperately wanted to succeed at breastfeeding and do the best thing for my babies, but at the same time I was equally desperate to have my body back.
I had no support from my family to continue breastfeeding yet I had created this irrational notion that formula was akin to “poison” and refused to allow it, and I envied women who gave their babies formula without a care. No-one saw how desperate I was, and in my mind no-one cared, not even my family and my poor husband was helpless.
When the girls were 6 weeks old, my favourite uncle who lived around the corner had a major heart attack and died in ICU three weeks later.
While my aunty’s house was full of people in one way or another, we were abandoned. No-one made the short trip 500 metres around the corner to visit us and see if we alright. It was made abundantly clear to us that the death of a person is a tragic event and the bereaved are in need of any and all support available. But the birth of a baby – especially two babies – is a “double” blessing and a time of wonderful happiness that clearly we were left to “enjoy” alone. Neither was my grief at the loss of my uncle acknowledged, despite having given a heartfelt eulogy at his funeral with 9 week old Nina strapped to me.
PND.
My father was left, grieving for his brother, supporting his sister-in-law (my aunty), taking care of my mother as well as having to take care of my elderly grandparents.
He tried to help us, and sometimes he was able to, but I never wanted to ask anymore of him than he was already giving to everyone else. I could see he was struggling, and he could see I was struggling too. Stalemate.
My prophecy had manifested – my life was over. I fantasised about getting in the car and driving away and never coming back. I even contemplated suicide, but realised that would be the ultimate failure to my babies. I had thoughts about harming the babies that completely horrified me. I had been sucked into a vortex of misery, hopelessness, worthless, despair, catastrophe. I looked at my babies and cried…every single day. I loved these little people that I wanted so desperately to escape from. I felt like a complete miserable failure as a mother, as a wife and as an individual.
Who was I anymore anyway?
I had no idea. My life before was a distant memory and I grieved the loss of that person acutely. I was lost, overwhelmed, and despite all my efforts – completely out of control. I can’t remember the exact sequence of events that took place that brought me to the point of being diagnosed leading to the commencement of treatment.
I remember my maternal and child health nurse one day asking me to complete the Edinburgh scale at a visit one day and informing me that it was a high score and I needed to see my GP as soon as possible because I could have depression. I remember seeing my GP and crying and crying. She wrote up a mental health care plan and we discussed which medication I would take. I felt like a failure, but she reassured me. By the time I left, feelings of failure had shifted to feelings of sheer relief.
There was one bitter realisation that I continue to regret to this day and think that maybe I always will. That is, the realisation that my babies were 6 or 7 months old and I had spent all that time in a state of disarray, fearing them instead of taking joy in them, wanting to escape from them rather than immersing myself in the marvel of their development.
I had lost the first precious months of my babies’ lives and the realisation that it was gone and I could never get it back was, and still is, the biggest regret and loss of my life.
On a positive note, what I have gained from this regret in particular, is a mental default reminder when either I or my husband feel or express frustration with the stage the girls’ are at and fantasise about the greater freedom that will come when they are older, I can always remind myself to stay in the moment and appreciate exactly where they are right now and not to wish their lives away anymore.
Just yesterday, at the park, I noticed one of my girls’ shoelaces undone and stopped her so I could fix it. While I did it she put her arms around my neck, kissed me and said “you are good Mum”.
Lisa and Matt met in a share house in 1996 and have been married for the last eight years. They live in Melbourne with their twin daughters Nina and Lu Lu, now aged four. The girls are getting ready to start school in the New Year.
Tomorrow we will hear from Lisa’s husband Matt, as he writes with searing honesty about his experience of living with Lisa during her difficult ordeal.
This week is post and ante natal depression week. Anyone concerned about postnatal depression can contact the PANDA Helpline: 1300 726 306 or visit their website here. (Find fact sheets here.)
Comments
36 Comments so far
This is just like my story with my twins- except I did IVF and soooo wanted these babies so felt I couldn’t complain as people would have just said ‘well you wanted these babies for years- your dream has come true’ so felt I had to hide any negative emotions.
I had pre natal depression and had a traumatic birth (2 hr caesarean due to scaring from other gynae surgery so my epidural ran out half way through so felt everything!)
My twins were 7wks premature so had their complications to deal with plus my continuing pain (long story but ended up having hysterectomy then left with rare condition of trapped pelvic nerve so now have chronic pain)….but had the same perfectionistic personality that everything was fine and I was coping-even with a baby with breathing monitor for 6mths who stopped breathing during feeds and needed almost resuscitation many times / both babies with suspected m.c m at 4mths and 7ths plus moving house….I don’t think I handled my emergency hysterectomy well- at age 30- I hadn’t grieved properly …I kept it hidden until the babies were 13 mths…went to my GP and couldn’t stop the tears- given meds but I unfortunately didn’t get better until they were 4yrs old (tried 12 different med combo’s until found one that worked). My PND psychiatrist said I I had the ‘big 3 combo’ – IVF/premature births/multiple births- so bound to have it!
My advice is to go to GP and talk- i so wish I’d done it sooner- I also wish I could get those months back to live with joy- but it ‘was what it was’ and now they are 11yrs old and are happy, compassionate, articulate and creative kids and I feel so incredibly blessed xx
loading...
Thank you all for your kind and supportive responses to my story, and for being inspired to share your own stories. That is what this is all about, that was part of what motivates me to share, to destigmatise, to educate, to empathise, to reach out spiritually and psychologically to any and all who have felt themselves trapped in this sad, scary and very, very lonely place. “Guest” poster, I often repeat that same phrase that in my mind underpins this whole experience and the shamefulness of how widespread it is “it takes a village to raise a child”. Parenting is a task that was never meant to be done alone, yet in our modern individualistic society that has lost touch with its humanity, we are all side by side in our own little cubicles totally alone, yet surrounded by people just beyond those walls and fences. Forced to struggle alone to be the perfect woman/mother/wife, with images beamed into our homes via Huggies and Nurofen ads, at the shops from magazine covers of celebrities/models flaunting their “fabulous post-baby bodies” reminding us of the standard we need to achieve…i.e. the unrealistic and unachievable.
As many of you have mentioned, I too am a stronger, wiser, more insightful person as a result of my experience. It didn’t just end after the diagnosis, it was a rollercoaster ride getting our lives back on track. I was acutely aware (which added to my feelings of guilt) of the burden of my condition on Matt, but he was all I had and I am blessed to have him. But I knew he and the girls as well as I would need to find a balance to get our lives on a smoother trajectory, which also meant Matt and I giving specific time and attention to repairing the damage to our relationship.
After four years, I feel like we are back on a firm footing. Exercise was and remains my tonic. I have not yet embarked on my new career that I was studying for while pregnant and after the girls were born, but after losing that first year, I let it slide as a priority. I turned to PANDA instead to give me some sense of fulfillment that I was keeping my hand in and doing something I was passionate about, being there for those that were where I had been. It is immensely rewarding. And apart from that, I have my girls and my exercise.
I am a runner. I’ve run two half marathons and am training for a 28km trail run in January with my amazing running group. I feel indestructible and I am able to achieve these goals that I’d never ever considered possible before because I, my marriage and my family survived AND/PND.
Thank you all again for sharing your stories, they brought tears to my eyes too. You are all amazing.
Lisa
loading...
I got something I like to call Post Natal Deprivation.
Four years ago my firstborn was born.
What an awesome, heaven-inspired moment to be cradling this miniature descendant of the Priestly Tribe of the Kohanim – 3.385 grams of perfect miracle and blessing. Giddy with joy and high on adrenalin I had no idea of what was to become of me.
Then, when my baby was two weeks old, and all the whisky from the Bris had finally worn off, the post-natal deprivation set in.
I realised that I was never, ever going to have time to read again.
Before I became a mother I could cope with the concept of pre-natal deprivation – depriving myself of my favourite kosher delicacies – soft cheeses, Kosher Rose’ wine and the Jewish staple of smoked salmon.
But the post-natal deprivation – now that’s a topic that’s more hush-hush than Joan Rivers’ real age.
Of course I knew that there’d be certain depriving aspects of motherhood – like post-natal depression, the baby blues, the lack of sleep, limited adult conversation, not to mention getting around in clean clothes most days.
But during my entire pregnancy, no-one gave me the heads-up about a fairly rare form of post-natal deprivation that affects avid readers/un-maternal types – No more reading, ever – total literary deprivation. What a shock to the system that I would never read a book post-natally.
I started to wonder why post-natal deprivation is not widely documented.
Perhaps, because there is no real evidence to suggest that new mothers will never be able to read again after giving birth. That sort of statement would surely be absurd, because there’s absolutely no reason why becoming a mother precludes you from enjoying the written word from time to time.
No, after having a baby, there’s tons of stuff you can still read, like:
The Kashrut Authority Kosher List every time you’re at the supermarket
Mothers’ self-help / parenting books, which chart your kid’s developmental milestones against a bunch of statistics based on obese newborns from another country in the 1980s who were weaned on Coca Cola and started solids at 4 months old, and were written by 1950s-minded mothers who think you’re doing a rubbish job because you’ve let your baby cry in the pram while you scull your third coffee of the day, right before a breastfeed
Street signs (that is, if you’re not too tired to get behind the wheel to brave a journey from A to B), and
Text messages from anyone who still contacts you, because G-d knows you don’t have time to speak on the telephone anymore!
Clearly, a treasure trove of stuff to read for new mothers, just forget reading entire books that don’t relate to a new baby and/or how to raise it.
For me, my descent into post-natal literary deprivation left me pining for a Tudor fix of historical fiction books. I yearned for just a brief escape into the luxuriously glamorous Golden Ages. Not to mention a book or two about the handsome, bad-boy King Henry VIII (who, by the way, would have completely adored the likes of me, not only for my acerbic wit to rival Anne Boleyn any day, but also because I am genetically prone to producing male heirs!)
But, forget the deprivation of reading whole, entire books, because I’m not the greedy type. Since having babies, I couldn’t remember the last time I read a real newspaper cover-to-cover, or even paged through the Sunday Magazine. In fact, the last thing I could actually recall reading were the jokes on the back of the Libra Maternity Pad tear-off slips!
I realised my dire situation and decided to start the process of self-recover from my post-natal deprivation. One book at a time.
So. I booked a babysitter (read, husband), did something to make myself feel better (read, dropped the new-mothers’ guilt trip and left the house, alone) and bravely went in search of some real books for myself. I had to remind myself that I was not looking for books that fit in a baby’s nappy bag or mouth, require you to scratch, sniff, feel and lift tags, or books with chewed corners that only have four pages made of board.
No, to dig myself out of this post-natal deprivation I needed proper books. Grown-up books with at least 400 pages, gold-embossed writing on the cover and a fresco of a real life Tudor royal on the cover.
At the time of this post being published, I’m proud to say that I’ve made a near-complete recovery from my post-natal literary deprivation. But the healing is in the reading. Simple as that.
So, every Saturday afternoon I try to make it my business to make myself scarce and get stuck into a good old tale about one of King Henry’s wives and their escapades. And what’s more, by over-coming my post-natal deprivation, I think my boys will turn out all the better for it and hopefully, they’ll learn a love of reading from me too.
loading...
Reading is still my most important leisure activity, post 3kids. I make sure I read at least 3books a week, its something I could never give up. I’m just making sure my kids develop a love of reading
loading...
It takes so much courage to be open about mental health issues of any description, and there should be more of it! It helps so much to know you aren’t alone out there… and hopefully reading stories like this will make others more aware and seek help sooner. Thank you for sharing
loading...
I’m interested in reading this article and comments. I had very little family help with my first child, I found it difficult to cope and am sad that I spent most of his first year feeling dreadful. Having found it difficult I made sure I did not have another pregnancy for quite sometime. There is over 3.5 years between my children. I am wondering why in this day and age do some of the commentators have another pregnancy so quickly after their first or second. My comment is not that you should not have as many children as you like but why not space them so it is easier to cope with?
loading...
Some people have babies close together because they are older and don’t have the biological time to wait 3, 4 or 5 years between children. And also, if you are living and struggling on one wage but want to stay home with your children, waiting years and years is a financial nightmare.
loading...
I had one baby-not twins- but I felt like you were writing my story. My baby was SO wanted and I had tried for so long to fall pregnant and when he was born I thought life would be one big ray of sunshine. I loved my baby so much but I was utterly miserable. I couldn’t breastfeed- and felt guilty that I couldn’t provide my child with his basic needs. I felt useless, angry, upset and yes- resentful that my life had changed so much and I had no control anymore.
After medication, counselling and a PND group -as well as the AMAZING mother’s group I joined- it got better.
I am now mother to a fabulous 11 year old who is the joy of my life. It does get better, but it can be a very hard road.
loading...
I had pre and post natal depression with my first child. That was almost 12 years ago. It is still a misunderstood and taboo subject now but, nothing compared to what it was then.
I always look back at that time and realise there was no help for the fathers/partners. They were/are going into this blind on top of having a newborn baby. So much more awareness needs to be created for expecting mothers and the fathers/partners.
I’m so glad to see it becoming more of a common topic that is more easily talked about. It takes woman like you and your husband, speaking out and letting others know that its okay to talk about.
I missed out on so much during my pregnancy and for almost 12 months after the birth of my child because I was struggling so much. I can never get that time back.
Hopefully as more and more awareness is created, there will be less people and families suffering in silence because they feel no one will understand and/or they don’t know how or whereto get help.
loading...
While it is important to get help for depression, I am now discovering years later the consequences. I am currently in a dispute with the insurance company who is refusing to give me full income protection because I had very mild depression years ago for a short period of time. I consider this discrimination so am not happy to accept this decision by the insurance company. I consider this past medical history to be irrelevant as I had two young kids at the time, and haven’t had depression for years.
It is especially upsetting me because I am a single mum responsible for a mortgage by myself, and I don’t know how long this will affect me for? Will I be tainted by these records for the rest of my life? Nobody can tell me.
I wish I had dealt with the depression differently, in a way that didn’t affect my medical records.
loading...
Yes! Yes yes yes! This is the same for me – I was treated for mild depression in my early 20s, 8 years later can’t get adequate life insurance without paying more than double premium! I’ve reapplied a few times, to different companies. I am so frustrated, and feel incredibly stigmatized and shamed years later, even though I am perfectly fine now.
loading...
Thank you for this article. I’ve sent it to my husband to read because I think it will give him some insight into how I have felt for the past 2 years since the birth of our twins… Your experience is so similar to mine, I thought you were talking about me!! Thank you for writing about it so articulately. I’m looking forward to reading your husbands story tomorrow.
loading...
There is so much truth in the saying “it takes a village to raise a child”…. With a newborn and a toddler, I can only dream of having my family living just around the corner, able to help out etc.
loading...
Thankyou for sharing.
I understand about the running away & guilt you felt.
My twins are 2 next month & singleton 4 in Jan & I’m still dealing with these issues.
Nice to hear you’re happy. Xx
loading...
Thank you Lisa for sharing.
I suffered from PND with all three of our babies however was not diagnosed until I was 6 weeks pregnant with our third. My wonderful, wonderful OBG asked me how I was after my last baby (who was not yet one) at my early scan for our third. Thank goodness he asked.
With medication, CB therapy and support from my Mr Amazing, I got through thankfully.
I am now really stuggling with the behaviour of my 3 kidlets, and feel terribly guilty that I clearly did not (could not) put ‘the ground work in at the start’. Mummy guilt mars all aspects of my parenting to the point that if Im brutally honest, Im hard pressed to find any aspects of mothering my beautiful brood that I enjoy…….and then of course feel guilty about that. I wonder if this overwhelming feeling of failure is crumbs of the PND left over or something others feel as well?
loading...
I relate to this. I wasn’t officially diagnosed with PND as my GP said I was ‘one of the most together Mums in my practice’… go figure. I also spoke to my OB during my second pregnancy, she sought me some help but I wasn’t deemed ‘needy’ enough to qualify. I’m confident and outspoken, so looking back, I’m convinced noone believed that *I* could possibly be depressed or need help.
In the end I downloaded the Edinburgh scale myself, found I scored very high and booked myself into a therapist. I lucked out as she was amazing.
Interestingly, I was fine after my first baby but things kicked off during my second pregnancy (antenatal depression I assume) and the PND really only manifested about 8 months after my second. Because everyone around me kept telling me I was fine (my family all live overseas and had their own very difficult issues at the time so I couldn’t reach out) I convinced myself it couldn’t be PND. Instead, it was far more likely I was the world’s worst mother and my kids would be better off without me.
Yep, I had those moments of thinking I’d just drive my car into the path of a truck (kids on board) and everyone would be better off….and I started drinking ‘mummy’s little helper’ at 5pm, then 4pm…then 2pm… then a whole bottle would be gone before dinner. Then it got to the point I was really worried I hurt one of the kids.
It sucked.
Thankfully, I did a lot of counselling, reading, and soul searching to start back on the path to ‘normal’. I found that exercise and a good diet really helped(I’m sorry for sounding like an old fart here) . Mostly think that focussing on my health and loosing weight really gave me something for ME and was my saving grace. Sounds so trite – I was told numerous times to ‘exercise’ to help depression, but really, it did help.
Nowadays, things are great. I look back on those days and feel so sad – picturing a smart, ‘together’ woman with great kids crying into her pillow thinking she was a piece of sh*t Mum … if only I had (and others) recognised it as PND earlier.
loading...
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I am looking forward to reading your husband’s side tomorrow. I too suffered PND after the birth of my third child (and probably truth be told to a lesser degree with my first 2). Unfortunately though my husband left for someone else when my baby was 11 months old as he couldn’t stand the person I had become. I couldn’t stand her either but he either couldn’t or wouldn’t understand that was not who I truly was underneath. I love my baby to bits but I do wish every single day that I hadn’t got PND and that my family was still together. I think I will always blame myself that my children now have to grow up in a fractured family and I will forever regret not being able to remember my baby’s first 2 years of life.
loading...
Oh wow. I felt such sadness reading your post! It isnt your fault that your husband chose to leave! Marriage is a commitment for better or worse right? You were unwell and he took the easy way out instead of working through it with you. It reminds me of a friend whose partner lefther because she had cancer & he found it too hard to deal with. Try to forgive yourself because its not your fault you got sick & your husband left.
loading...
Oh wow! Thank you for sharing this. I have twins the same age and can so relate to that feeling of being out of control and overwhelmed at the enormity of caring for these two tiny, needy little bodies. And I can also so relate to the breastfeeding battle – so wanting to do the right thing by my babies, and yet longing to feel more like myself and less like a dairy cow! Lol!
Looking back, it’s a blurr. The thing that helped me the most was – ironically – having another baby! Having a singleton after the sleepless nightmare that is infant twins was just such a breeze and I actually got to enjoy the baby stage instead of just surviving it.
loading...
Thank you for sharing your story – it’s not an easy thing to do.
The guilt over the missing time is horrendous. It took me 18 months including hospitalisation, ECT, medication, therapy etc to just start to feel happy again. It breaks my heart to not remember and not have enjoyed that beautiful age and all of the wonders that would have come with it.
I was a control freak. Everything I did was done well. I read endlessly. I thought I was prepared. I’d never failed anything. I was desperate to be a mum. A deep desire I couldn’t explain, and when I fell pregnant I was ecstatic! A few months later I hated being pregnant – I had hyperemesis the whole pregnancy, spending my days in a dark bedroom vomiting and losing weight wishing it was over (I should have got help then). The birth that I was “prepared for” ended up being a CS under a GA – I told myself I failed at my daughter’s birth because I wasn’t awake to see her come into the world. The baby I desperately wanted became a constant reminder of how much of a failure I was – I didn’t know what to do, when she needed feeding, how to get her back to sleep etc etc. My brain was in a whole other mindset – it completely took over me. I remember standing at the side of the road holding the pram wondering what would happen if I just let go of the handles. Makes me ill thinking about it, even after all these years.
Looking back, despite how absolutely awful it all was, I’m a much better person and a mother because of my PND and the things I learned from my doctors. I wish more than anything that I could have my time over, and I’d do it all so differently, but I’m so thankful for the amazing and unbreakable bond that Lauren and I now have which I don’t think would have been there if I hadn’t have received urgent help.
She is 4.5 yrs old and the light of my life
loading...
I used to have scary thoughts also – like if I was going down the escalator in a shopping centre holding my 4 month old little girl I would suddenly think “what if I dropped her down to the floor below?” And then would feel paralysed with fear that I would drop her, and horribly guilty for thinking such a thing. I never wanted to drop her, I would just get frightened that I would, and wonder what the hell was wrong with me? My much loved, wanted, beautiful little girl.
loading...
Oh my dear friend! Thank you for your brutal honesty, thank you for sharing, thank you for bringing this out of the shadows and into the main stream arena. As you know I battle with this each and every day! Ante & Post natal depression are insidious in nature and they really can overshadow your world like a big black shadow without even realising.
You ARE a great mum, and you are a wonderful person!
Hugs xxxx
loading...
Thank you for sharing. Anyone who can help speak out about mental health issues can only help those of us who suffer, most, usually, in silence.
I suffered Pre-Natal depression with my first and PTSD after the birth of my second-I am still receiving treatment 14 months on. I know that when I look back I can only see my memories in shades of grey and realize how much clearer, and colourful the world is each day as I continue my treatment. There are days when I slip right back, but seeing my beautiful babies helps remind me of how lucky we are to live in a place where we can get help when we need it.
The first step-the biggest, bravest one is admitting you need some help. This DOES NOT mean you are weak or any less of a great mum for asking.
loading...
Thank you for sharing your story, Lisa. Like thousands of women, I experienced PND with both of my children. Thankfully after time, therapy, medication and much patience I am better now. The one piece of advice I give new mums (without trying to freak them out!) is this:
Sometimes saying the words “Help Me” is the hardest step, especially when you just want to retreat into yourself and hide from the world. I had a code word with my best friend – when I was beyond control, or in fear of hurting my child or myself, or having one of the excessively bad days, I could text her the code word and she would know to phone me or come over immediately. It was much easier (and I think less “shameful”) for me to use that word rather than saying the H word.
I think it’s important for ALL parents to remember that it is OKAY to have a bad day, and it is OKAY to not enjoy your baby or being a mum all of the time. There is no shame in that. And so nor is there any shame in having your brain chemicals and body hormones create a (hopefully temporary) mental illness that affects your life. I know that doesn’t help in the moment (or the thousands of moments during your illness) but ultimately it is the truth.
The more PND parents can openly discuss their experiences, the more we can normalise this illness and understand it, and hopefully the less shame people (especially mothers, I would imagine) will feel when they are stricken with guilt over being a “bad mother”. It’s Not Your Fault.
loading...
Thankyou Lisa for your courage to share this. I spent 15 months struggling with PND after the birth of my twins before I sought help. 15 months. I knew early on that I wasn’t coping but was too busy trying to be some kind of supermum and amazing everyone with how i could do it all. I desperately wanted help but didn’t know how to ask for it. I felt lost and had constant guilt about everything i was doing, thinking and feeling. Three months on I’m remembering who I am and treasuring my 3 kids.
loading...
I had PND with my 2nd child
My house was disgusting, and if DOCS had known i’d be at risk of getting the kids taken off me
People don’t realise just what happens to your mind, i’d look at the mess and get more depressed because my house was like that
I had my family there, but they never helped…why didn’t they help?
They could see i had a problem but they just turned a blind eye to the problem
that’s not what i needed.
Please if you know anyone who changes help them, don’t help them clean that’s covering the problem up, help them get the professional help they need
you need to start at the core before being able to change anything!
It’s now 7years later and i can proudly say i’m feeling better, my house gets untidy sometimes but that’s nothing a 20min clean can’t fix
You can get help, and you can help them!!
loading...
I was the same with my 2nd child. I look back now and wonder why my family never helped me. My mother in law would occasionally pop over and see us all in our pjs, crying (all 3 of us), and a weeks worth of washing up in the kitchen. But she avoided us like the plague. I’m still a bit pissy about it, to be honest. Luckily a few of my friends heavily suggested/ herded me into a Mother Baby Unit. Thank God.
loading...
I don’t have children (yet) but have a question about seeing this and helping if ever I did see it (friend or family).
Would it help to all pitch in and pay for a cleaner to come by once or twice a week to help a new mum not feel overwhelmed or worried about domestic chores so she feels calm and focussed on her baby?
Because, if yes, it seems like a better gift from a group of friends or workmates for a baby shower than blankets, bibs, dummies, toys etc. I think if I were a new mum, I’d appreciate that aspect being taken care of for a while.
loading...
YES, YES and YES! Having had twins and then a singleton 3yrs later, that would have been the single nicest, most thoughtful thing anyone could have done for me! Sadly no-one did… But seriously, DO THIS! It would be awesome and so much more meaningful and helpful than baby stuff.
loading...
Definitely Cim. In Robyn Barker’s excellent book Baby Love she discusses this issue, saying people spend so much money on prams, fancy cots and other gear, when what is really valuable in those early days is practical help with day to day stuff. So a cleaner or help with meals is so helpful when parents are so sleep deprived and recovering from the birth, and learning to care for their baby. I’ll never forget that haze you feel after birth. Thank you for your article.
loading...
Thank you for sharing. I have never heard any one else say that their biggest regret was effectively ‘losing’ the early months with their babies; you have articulated my biggest sorrow also. However, take solace in the fact that you are obviously an amazing, strong woman who is willing to do what it takes to be the best mother you can. Therapy is not for the faint hearted, so you should be incredibly proud of yourself for engaging in that process. Wishing you and your family all the very best x
loading...
I have a mixed story to share.
I was ten when my baby sister was born, and my mum suffered severe PND. It has taken us (mum and I) a long time to get past all the chaos that was then and create a better relationship. But it was only recently that I really understood the depths of her side of the story.
When I had baby number four at the start of the year, Mum came to visit and she was surprised to see me home from hospital 6 hours after the birth and carrying on with my usual life. Caring for the three older siblings, running my business, doing housework, etc.
She said “But aren’t you feeling the normal post-baby sadness?”
When I said “No, I’m fine”, she muttered all sorts of things about me being well, just “not normal”.
And it occurred to me that the two of us were probably at either end of the range of post-baby responses. Mum, with her inability to cope resulting in not being able to do anything at all. And me, carrying on as if nothing much out of the ordinary had happened.
On reflection, neither of us are normal. Humans are a wide spectrum of individuals.
loading...
You have just tole my story, I have just one four year old daughter and thankfully my extended family was not rocked by tragedy like yours. These days I tell anyone and everyone about how horrible those days were…I just knew that if every first time mother felt the way I did, no one would ever have a second (or their or fourth…) child. I just figure, if one person identifies with the story and looks for help, then I’ve helped!
loading...
Started zoloft just over 2 weeks ago for PND and my baby is 11 months. Already things are more sunny I wish I had started sooner.
loading...
Thank you for sharing your story, it takes such courage to face depression head-on and then share it with others. Having suffered pre-natal depression with my first baby and some post-natal depression with my second, I too used to fantasise about running away to a hotel for a good block of sleep! Your girls are gorgeous and thanks again for highlighting such an important issue.
loading...
I lived this. Felt exactly this. It’s still hard to read and remember. Thank god for PANDA. They’re the reason my child still has a mother today.
loading...