Real mummy life

Idealistic pre-mummy + Frantic actual mummy = Real mummy life

Things I thought I would do on maternity leave..

• be very tired
• stare lovingly at the baby for hours
• sleep when the baby slept
• sleep with the baby next to me
• enjoy smiles and giggles from the baby
• sunbathe while the baby slept
• go out for coffees and lunches
• have date nights while the baby's with a babysitter

Things I actually did on my maternity leave...

• Realised why sleep deprivation is used as a tool of torture
• stared at the baby with a growing sense of confusion
• discovered that some babies grunt loudly when sleeping (apparently quite normal -who knew?!?)
• realised that grunting makes it impossible to sleep next to the baby
• found out that babies don't smile or giggle for bloody ages.. they just poop, eat and cry
• found out that instead of sunbathing, coffees and lunches I would be constantly feeding, changing, washing and sleeping
• As for date nights... ha, my husband was lucky if he found me dressed in something other than a fluffy dressing gown covered in baby sick & smelling of poop - I certainly wasn't bringing sexy back  

Things I thought I would do with a toddler...

• finally leave the toddler with a friend so my husband and I could have a date night
• teach my toddler lots of new things
• get stupidly excited when my toddler learned something new
• dance around the living room to cheesy music
• jump in lots of puddles
• sing songs
• run and run until we could run no more
• kiss my toddler lots
• cuddle my toddler a bit too much
• giggle until our tummies hurt

Things I actually do with my toddler...

• all of the above

I hope my lists made you smile! 

Below is a pic of my little man joining in with some dancing at Kew Gardens - you can't see it but he's smiling from ear to ear. 

Having a baby is really hard work for all new parents. This especially true for parents who experience PND or PTSD. There is support if you are struggling, please seek help through your GP you can be referred through the NHS or through private healthcare.

It might take a while to get there but you can recover... you are great parents fighting to emerge from a grey cloud. Keep on going ... it's worth the fight. 

I am taking part in www.newmummyblog.com #thebabyformula

What My Hubby did..

So we left the hospital, me in a wheel chair and my husband carrying our new baby in the carrycot. I know, not the scene you expect when leaving hospital with your newborn. Anyone who has read my blog knows the birth did not go to plan and left me very weak, hence the wheelchair.

Much fun was had trying to get the carrycot strapped in correctly, many expletives later we were all loaded safely into the car. My husband turned to me and said 'I feel like we are stealing a baby!' We both looked at the tiny little man in the back of our car, the whole thing felt completely surreal.

This was a theme that continued when we got home. As we tried to get to grips with this new parenting lark, things descended into some kind of nightmarish farce.

I had read a book which advocated feeding on demand and was determined this was the right path to take. However, this was definitely a bad idea for us, I was incredibly weak and our baby fed every hour and a half, all day and all night. I was like a walking zombie after the first few days.

Because of the (as yet undiagnosed) PTSD my body was constantly on high alert and I was unable to sleep. Even when my husband took the baby for a walk, I would be shaking with exhaustion and still I could not sleep.

And instead of sleeping what did I do? Did I rest? Did I watch television? Did I knit? No, I compulsively shopped online (that was the PTSD again). I bought every little thing in the world that might save us from this horrendous situation we found ourselves in. I felt like - If I can't runaway maybe I can shop us out of this mess of constant feeding, overwhelming exhaustion and general WTF have we doneness.

A few weeks into the randomness hubby gently explained that we could start using bottles for some of the night feeds. He cleverly said it would help him bond with the little man and so with some trepidation, I agreed. No one mentioned what a pain in the arse that was going to be, sterilising, cooling, warming...we had just added yet another layer of crap to do, arghhh!

A few days later my husband opened the door to another delivery (he was already concerned I was shopping too much after we received a christmas card from the John Lewis delivery guy!) and now in front of him was a fridge, he looked at me with confusion. 'But we already have a fridge darling' he said through gritted teeth.. I calmly and rationally explained that we could use this fridge in our bedroom, to keep the milk in, so we wouldn't have to keep going downstairs to get milk, as I was worried one of us might trip and fall down the stairs.

Now up until this point hubby had been worried, he had shown concern, he had been incredibly patient accepting delivery after delivery of shite while wondering what the hell had happened to his wife, who seemed to have taken leave of her senses.

He explained to me that putting a great big, noisy fridge in our room would not help me to sleep. Now he was no longer patient, he was running his fingers through his hair, he was saying he couldn't understand my actions, he was appalled at the appearance of a fridge (in my defence it was a small fridge).

Things got dark between us, there were tears, snot and strong words were spoken. I just couldn't see a way back from this, I felt like we were falling apart, then he said 'hon, I think you might be very unwell, I have been reading up on your symptoms and I think maybe we should go to the doctors.' Then he held me in his arms, while I continued to sob big, snotty, sobs into his jumper, realising he was probably right, thanking my lucky stars that he was my hubby.

After the first diagnosis he downloaded a book called Surviving Postnatal Depression and read it cover to cover, after the PTSD diagnosis we researched together online. He told me that in some of those stories the couples didn't stay together, but that we would, because this would make us even stronger.

Through it all he supported me and his little boy every step of the way. He learned about what was happening to me and why, he came home early from work whenever he could, he supported so many of my choices throughout my illness and recovery, he took me to my first counselling session, my baby massage classes and he looked after our little one, so I could rest.

I still thank my lucky stars everyday that he's my hubby!

P.S. My husband just read this and asked me to add that the fridge is now a beer fridge in the garage - so all's well that ends well.

Mother's guilt

My first experience of  Mother's guilt came when I couldn't look after my baby properly. My illness (PTS from the birth trauma & severe anaemia) rendered me unable to do everything for him, as I was so weak.

I continued breast feeding for 7 weeks as 'breast is best'. However, the promise if a massive hit of love hormone every time I fed my baby just didn't happen for me.  Every time I breast fed my anaemia made me feel faint & I almost collapsed a few times, so I started to express at times when I felt strong. It all got so difficult that I phoned the National Breastfeeding line for help... Big mistake! I was told that by pumping I was setting myself up to fail & that my milk would dry up.  But it wasn't drying up, it was spurting and leaking all over the place. Again, no prior warning of spurting boobs had been given at our NCT meetings. I had not been told that when my baby wanted milk it would start dribbling down my chest & that if I had no bra on I would be spurting milk all over the place. Neither had it been mentioned that Ben would find himself choking on my boobs which were acting as milk hoses on full blast and that in my attempts to pull him off my boob I might spurt him in the eye causing him to become furious as he is now soaked AND hungry!

I was beside myself with worry as my little man found it harder & harder to feed. I didn't know what to do next I felt I had no choice but to stop, as I wasn't even sure if Ben was getting enough milk. But the guilt of giving up after 7 weeks made me feel awful .. like I was a terrible mother.
This was coupled with the fact that Ben slept like a baby - and when I say this I mean he was noisy as hell!!! He grunted, he groaned & he roared in his sleep- no one warns you of this.  No one ever said your baby may grunt like a pig in order to get to sleep, so for the 6 weeks we had him in our room I did not sleep, at all, not a wink.

So, I asked my Health Visitor if we could move him into his own room. I understand that Health Visitors have a job to do but I didn't know scaring frantic mothers, with Post Traumatic Stress, half to death came under their remit.  I was basically told - do it at my own peril... as he may die.

Turns out that, for me, stopping breast feeding sped up my recovery & therefore the bonding process. Moving my little man to his own room meant that I got the sleep I so desperately needed  & he actually slept better in his own room. I'd advise any nervous Mum to get a baby breathing monitor. The peace of mind it affords you is great.

It took me months, but trust your instinct as a Mother. Remember we need to be protective but it's all a bit OTT . Listen to the experts but really the final decision rests with you. Each baby is different & each Mummy is different - you know yourself & you will get to know your baby so learn to trust yourself.

In the beginning...PTSD birth

 When I was pregnant with my 'bundle of joy' I remember my friend saying that having a baby is a bit like a bomb going of in your life, she said it would turn our lives upside down and not always in a good way. I was shocked by this notion and ignored her thinking to myself 'she has never been that into babies'. I also read a book which said "Don't worry if you don't fall instantly in love with your new baby" I closed the book in disgust. I remember saying to my mother "why would anyone not love their baby?"   

I had worked as a child minder, a nanny and a Primary School Teacher for goodness sakes! I loved babies and children...everyone expected me to be a natural. 

I had all the preconceived ideas, re-enforced by media pictures (just type 'new mum' into Google and you will see beautiful women holding smiling babies). The thing is I thought I was prepared; I knew that yes, it would be hard work and yes, we would be sleep deprived but as every parent tells you nothing can truly prepare you for having a new baby.    

My husband and I had a lovely life of holidays abroad, meals out, evenings in the pub with our mates or just chilling at home on the sofa. As we were past our partying days we were quite sure that the new baby would not change things between us too dramatically. We could still have our nights in, only we would have a baby upstairs and we would be more tired.  

However, we did not bank on a difficult birth, a challenging recovery and a big dose of post traumatic stress and postnatal depression. Hence the title of my blog...You are a new Mum (kaboom). 

I started my labour in a lovely room called a 'snug' all ready to breath through the whole thing and birth beautifully into a pool of blue. Look, I knew it wash't going to be orgasmic or even a particularly nice experience but nothing prepared me for the reality. I was moved to the medical room, as I had been in active labour for too long. The hospital were so short staffed I had to wait hours and hours for any pain relief. I think as it dawned on me that I had no control and no-one at the hospital could help me, the trauma began to set in. When they started saying that my little one was in distress my anxieties grew.

When our little boy finally made his appearance he cried out once and then there was silence. People rushed into the room as alarms sounded and as I repeatedly asked "is he okay?" he was whisked away to be resuscitated. I was terrified that I was about to lose him. You see, we had been here before, staring at grainy picture of a pregnancy that was not to be, willing the sonographer not to say those words "I'm sorry I can't find a heartbeat". I had miscarried and now I thought I was about to lose my second baby. I went completely numb looking at him on that table. Apparently, at that point my brain shut down and I shut off to protect myself.  

I remember feeling very disconnected when my baby was laid on top me. He was wriggling and I tried to think the correct thoughts "this is our baby, we have a baby, our baby". In all honesty it felt odd, like he was not really there. I am not sure my brain could process the fact that he was okay. 

I became very unwell after the birth and was in hospital for 3 days. Whilst I was haemorrhaging blood, I was told that my bladder had been displaced, dear lord no-one wants to hear that your bladder is moving around your body! We asked for a private room and we were put on a side room in the prenatal ward I am shouting that out. If you ever get offered such a thing just say NO. We were mostly neglected and forgotten about. I had what people term 'a normal birth' so I was given the minimum amount of care. 

Let me tell you, haemorrhaging is pretty scary, especially when you have no idea that such a thing could even happen. My parents and my husband looked scared which really freaked me out. Every so often a midwife would pop in to empty my pee bag (I know- no one warns you about that) and tell me the bleeding was normal?!? I ended up boarder line for a blood transfusion... that's not normal people! I was extremely unwell and was also trying to learn how to breast feed and look after a baby. I can only liken it to having car accident and then being given a baby to look after, it was madness. 

I remember looking over at the baby, when I was in hospital, and whispering to my husband 'I don't feel how I am supposed to feel towards him.' My counsellor tells me that I went into survival mode, fight or flight. I was so busy looking after myself that the bonding process was delayed. 

My husband supported me through so much. I became so anxious after the birth, as I was not physically strong enough to look after my baby. I would physically shake at the idea of taking the baby anywhere as the anaemia made me feel so faint. The adrenaline and anxiety meant I had not slept in the 3 days I had been in hospital, even after I got home sleep evaded me. I worried about everything, constantly. It was exhausting for everyone. 

I tried to buy my way out of the situation via Amazon. I bought everything and I mean everything! I bought extra feeding pillows, extra anti-colic bottles, extra bottle warmers, a spare bed for helpers (even though we had spare beds). I even bought a new fridge to put bottles upstairs to stop us from tripping over the cat on the stairs! My frantic mood was down to PTSD but we did not know this at the time. 

I think I, like many others, thought that mothers with PND (I didn't even know about Mothers with PTSD) were just new Mum's who found life a little hard after a baby, that they cried a lot and were lonely. I did not know that it was a dark illness which fogs your mind, makes you feel like you are no-good, makes you forget who you were or how you even managed before. I did not know that it would rob me of my first precious months with my son. I did not know that I would smile when visitors came even though inside I wanted to run away. I did not know it would make me feel like I had made a huge mistake, like I was failing my son everyday. It took over 12 weeks for me to feel that smallest rush of love and that love still grows and diminishes even after 16 weeks! 

Things with my little one are getting easier and I do enjoy him now but I am lucky enough to have help and support. I understand that now I am physically strong enough to look after my little man, but mentally I am still very fragile.

I found it very hard to accept my condition and I am sure there are others out there just like me. I have decided to write this blog to help others who are having a tough time as a Mum. I am going to write about what happens to me and how things have move on. 

My parting comment: It's okay if you feel like a bomb has gone off in your life & to mourn the life you had before. You do have a new life waiting for you and with the right help & support things can get better. I know ... I have been there.