Supporting parents suffering with PND or PTSD

I have been procrastinating over writing this blog post, wondering if I am qualified to give out advice. I have come to the conclusion what better person than someone who has come out the other side of a traumatic birth and come through the main difficulties of postnatal depression or post-traumatic stress disorder (whatever label you want to choose it was a very difficult time). So here goes...

PND and hormones: Before, during and after birth every woman's body is affected by a surge of hormones and chemicals which can balance out differently for different people. Some women get a huge surge of oxytocin, others a huge hit of adrenaline. This leaves you in completely different states, one mother is loved-up, the other in a heightened state of anxiety. Hormones take a long time to recover equilibrium and sometimes need a helping hand (see 'take the meds' below). Months or even years later women can still feel the after effects of PND or PTSD. If you've felt confused, angry, anxious or tearful after birth those hormones might need bringing into line.

It does not discriminate: I am an outgoing, happy, loving lady. I have lots of experience with children and expected to love every second of motherhood. I think that is part of why I felt so robbed. PND is not just finding motherhood hard, it is an illness which prevents you from being yourself at a time when you most want to be loving and caring.

You are not at fault: Mother's guilt can be overwhelming when you are suffering with PND or PTSD. When dealing with these illnesses the usual advice does not apply. You need to do what is best for you and your baby. I moved my son into his own room at 6 weeks, you may gasp but it helped us all to get a good nights sleep. I stopped breastfeeding when he was 7 weeks, every time he fed I felt drained and cried. I should have stopped earlier but the huge pressure made me carry on. Bottle feeding helped us to bond and I have no regrets now. He is a happy healthy toddler and we are very close. 

Your inner voice could be hurting you: 'I don't want to feel this way, I should be good at this, I'm not fit to be a mother, I should love my baby.' I could go on and on about the inner monologue which may be undermining you. Instead you could try to accept that PND or PTSD are making you have these feelings. Try to be kind to yourself and forgiving during this difficult time. Tell yourself.. 'it's okay to feel this way, these feelings will pass' or 'I am okay just as I am.'

Sit with the feelings: If you feel sad.. feel sad. If you feel anxious.. feel anxious. These are feelings which cause a physical reaction like tears, a tightening of your chest or heart palpitations. The more you battle or wish they weren't there the stronger the feelings can become. Try saying to yourself, 'today I feel sad and that's okay.'

Take the meds: A friend of mine said that, at first medication made her feel worse. She was worried about the stigma and the reaction of others. Then slowly the meds started working and she felt like the clouds had parted and through that gap a tiny ray of light shone. She began to feel better, sleep better and then her feelings towards her child began to emerge and grow. She realised that if a pill can make her feel normal again no-one else has the right to judge her decision.

Keep talking: Try to share how you are feeling with your partner, family or friends. If there really is no-one who understands tell a GP who you trust. You need to get support with what you are going through and your GP can refer you to a counsellor who should be able to support you. You can also go privately, make sure you find a counsellor you trust. I needed a whole team of people to pull me out of my dark place including my husband, friends, doctors, counsellors and my family.

Accept help: My friends who had been through similar experiences were a huge help but so too were the family members and friends who offered practical help. Try not to be too proud or guilty to accept help with cooking, cleaning or childcare... I am so much closer to everyone who helped me to recover.

Try not to compare yourself to others: When I finally posted pictures on Facebook I was smiling, it was a good day, the sun was out and I was cuddling my son, all looked well with the world. Only those on the inside knew that I had cried my way through the previous days or hours. I have since learned that a cousin, my best friend and a colleague of mine were all posting pictures of their lovely new families, while secretly battling PND.

Lift the dark clouds with fresh air and exercise: Sometimes I felt so hopeless I would protest and say nothing could help me. I would think going for a walk was silly, how could it possibly lift my sadness, then I would put my baby in his pram and walk. I literally walked off my blues. I always felt better after getting outside, it felt like freedom, it felt like a release and it felt like normality to be surrounded by others.

See people: If you feel up to it, go out to playgroups or classes. See if your health visitor can recommend a local support group. I did baby massage with the health visitors and met some lovely other Mums who were also struggling. It was a wonderful thing to do and it helped to build my confidence as a new Mum.

It is hard on relationships: Having a baby is challenging but having a baby after a traumatic birth and while dealing with PND is a massive strain. Understand that your husband might also feel anxious, sad, lonely and scared. He too thought that fatherhood would be a magical time and this time of transition is hugely hard on both of you. All I can say is, seek as much support as you can, concentrate on yourselves as well as the baby. Allow yourselves some 'me' time even if that is just a warm bath or a jog. Also, try to put in some couple time, I know this is very hard at the beginning, but it is important. If you feel your partner does not understand get him to read a book about PND, this can really help him to see things from your perspective and to understand how he can help you.

Remember there is life beyond this: I kept a diary as I was getting better, when I had bad days I would look back and see that I'd had a good day a few days previously. I would read about my positive mood on that day and it would give me hope. Then one day I thought 'I can't remember my last bad day' I looked back through my diary and realised I'd had weeks and weeks of good days!

Am I completely better? I still have some issues with anxiety and I am working through those but I am back to my old self. I smile, laugh and joke just as before, maybe even more, as having known such darkness I now enjoy the light so much.

I used to count down the days to my son's next milestone, now I want him to stay as he is for just a little bit longer. I know not everyone gets their happy ending as quickly as I have and I know how hard this illness is but my best advice is keep going because the day you wake up and realise you've had more good days than bad is a day worth waiting for.

Some other places to seek support: 

http://www.pandasfoundation.org.uk -National PND support groups 

http://www.home-start.org.uk - Volunteers offering practical help to families with one child or more. 

http://pndandme.co.uk - Twitter Peer support and blog for anyone experiencing PND or PTSD 

http://www.pndsupport.co.uk - support and counselling and helpline 

https://www.nct.org.uk/parenting/postnatal-depression - Information page

http://apni.org - Postnatal illness support and helpline

http://www.birthtraumaassociation.org.uk - Information and peer support through Facebook group

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.

Runaway a mothers journey through the darkness

Runaway

Can’t believe I want to run,

That I don’t want to be a Mum,

I need to leave him safely here,

Deal with my guilt and hurt and fear,

What an awful person I am,

Things are not going according to plan,

I hate myself for feeling this way,

So numb, so desperate, so very grey,

I wish I had had a crystal ball,

Unveiling the grey to reveal all,

That given time I would feel love,

And I would begin again to feel good,

That I would realise I was very unwell,

Down to the way the fated cards fell,

On that day he entered this earth,

And slowly again I would feel my worth,

The light would begin to brightly shine,

And I would finally feel that he’s mine,

And I would no longer blame myself,

For all those strange feelings that I had once felt,

This illness it made me feel so cold,

His birth made me feel so very old,

But my youth has returned and with it my light,

And I am so glad I chose to put up a fight,

The journey’s been long the fight has been hard,

I have been left bruised, battered and scarred,

But I will use this to help you to see,
Even though now you might not believe me,
You will feel like the person you were before,

You will be strong and feisty once more,

You will again laugh, dance and smile,

And you’ll share all of this with your beautiful child.

2 years on from PTSD

So My little man is about to be 2 years old.

Back when he was tiny I remember people saying to me 'enjoy it, it will rush by and you will miss that baby stage." I remember very clearly thinking, "you're all completely mad!" How anyone could think those first few months were lovely was beyond me. I was exhausted, anxious and stressed. I felt incredibly guilty for desperately mourning my old life and just couldn't see a time when I would enjoy being a Mummy.

These feelings were so far removed from what had expected to feel. Just before my son was born I would buy baby magazines dreaming about how wonderful it would be to choose his little outfits, to teach him things and to dance in the mirror holding him. I identified with the shining examples of motherhood emblazoned on the covers of these magazines.

After I had had my son, I was sure that I had been lied to. I hated to see those same magazines and felt completely duped. I found those first few weeks and months horrendous. I know now that it was worse because I was so unwell and that the PTSD had fogged my mind and was making me feel everything in a heightened state. When people would tell me how much I should enjoy him I felt like punching them... If only I could enjoy him!

But as the fog cleared I began to feel those trickles of love, his first smile made me smile, his first laugh made me laugh and the first kiss made me melt. The fog lifted slowly and my confidence began to return and I began to feel a little more like myself. As my son grew older people continued to tell me that I would miss that baby stage. However, I shocked people with my response, the more confident me would simply say "No I won't... it was shit!" I would usually qualify this by saying how much I enjoy him now, how I love teaching him things and how I adore dancing around the living room with him. But I have to say I have never picked up a kids magazine since he was born... maybe it's time to cross that bridge too.

Oh how we laughed through the tears

So just a quickie today ... just to say, I have mentioned the stupid amounts of blood, the anaemia, the leaky boobs, the lack of oxytocin, the cracked nipples, the sleepless nights, the anxiety, the scaremongering, the frantic shopping, the PND, the PTSD, the wee bag and catheter (maybe I didn't mention that - but who wants to hear about going home with a tube dangling from you like a female willy?)

But did I mention the tearing? The stitches? The fact that I had to sit on a children's blow up beach ring for weeks to even be able to sit down? And some lady has to come in and examine said stitches every week. Prudishness is a no, no after birth! Oh how we laughed... well actually no I didn't laugh. I sobbed into my dark space through the shame of it all. I wanted to crawl into the corner and let the ground swallow me up. I desperately wanted to go back to the sassy thirtysomething that I had been before all this had changed me forever.

But just so you know, I look back now and kinda laugh a bit. I mean the whole thing is absurd. Why we go into birthing thinking it will be a lovely experience and that we can all do it naturally, I just don't know. A broken arm heals naturally but we don't go in and say "Please no drugs, my body is a temple." If our child breaks their arm we wouldn't dream of saying "No drugs for him, please. We wouldn't want the little mite to feel dopey."

Seriously, well done to all those of you that did it naturally. I am pleased for you but also seething with jealousy inside We who did not have that experience had it a bit ruff, so please, let us take the drugs next time, if we want to.

A story of recovery from PTSD

Here is bit more of a sentimental overview of the story so far...Can't be cracking jokes all the time!

My husband & I were so happy to hear we were 6 weeks pregnant at our first scan.  

It was really early days so we kept things to ourselves,

I was adamant I would not get too excited as I knew the statistics. 

But as the weeks passed our hopes & dreams grew,

So we told our parents, grandparents, our brothers & sisters & we told our closest friends,

At the next scan I was nervous,

As they scanned I held my husbands hand tight,

The silence during the scan unnerved me… so I held tighter,

I willed her not to say those words… and then I heard them,

I’m sorry… I can’t find a heartbeat,

I looked up and saw my husband’s heart breaking,

He held me close as I sobbed.

Then I phoned my mother & I heard her heart break for us. 

We went home to an emptiness & a sadness.

I thought a thing like that would break me. 

And although I was very sad I reminded myself of all the things I still had

And after a few weeks the sadness started to lift. 

My friends who knew were amazing, I told others friends too, 

For me, having their support helped me to heal

My husband & I decided to really enjoy the time we had together,  

We booked a trip to Thailand

We became even closer as a couple & we got through it 

And 6 months later .. I became pregnant again! 

We were happy again, but anxious

After our 20 week scan I started to believe we would really have a little baby, 

I got really excited

When my waters broke I was calm

My labour was long & things were not straightforward.

Our baby’s heart rate started dropping, 

When I finally pushed our baby out he made one tiny choked cry & then he stopped

They rushed him away onto the resuscitation table

It seemed like an emergency as lots of people in rushed into the room

I didn't want to lose this baby, I felt like I was breaking inside,

I couldn't hold him, & no-one could tell us what was happening, 

Something inside me closed shut,

And then he was laid on my chest,

He was warm, he wasn't crying but he was wriggling

I heard them distantly telling me: ‘Your baby is fine he just needed his airways clearing’

But something in me didn't believe it. 

I was very unwell after the birth, I could hardly stand so I was kept in hospital

I now know the hospital let me down very badly, because they did not have enough staff

We had to fight to get the correct care for both me and our baby

In those first few days I whispered guiltily to my husband ‘I don’t feel how I should about the baby’ 

He told me it was probably because I was feeling so unwell 

He re-assured me that the feelings would come and that they sometimes take time

I went home hardly able to take care of myself let alone my baby

My parents came to stay, 

Everyone helped as I could not stand for long, as I was so poorly 

The anaemia often overwhelmed me & I felt scared that I might drop my baby or fall with him

I had a hugely heightened sense of anxiety 

I felt that something could happen to him

I became obsessed with making him & everyone around him safe

The guilt, that I couldn't care for him, started to consume me

Everything seemed grey, 

I sometimes thought everyone would be better off if I walked away,

I wished we could go back to how things were before, 

Now life seemed so difficult & tiny things, like leaving the house with my baby, filled me with dread

I did not know how I had become this fearful person when I had previously been so confident

My husband was amazingly supportive & loving even though he was exhausted. 

He had taken on a huge amount of the responsibility along with my parents,  

But even he seemed lost as to what was happening to me or what to do

Others thought I just had the baby blues & that I’d come out of it,

In between, we had all the usual visits from the all the grandparents, aunties, uncles and family

I would go through the motions of being a new mummy

I cuddled him, cooed, smiled at him, 

As I started to get physically better I played with him, sang to him, 

Slowly, very slowly, trickles of emotion started to seep through

But it was not really me, 

Before he came along I was a loving, sunny, caring person

I loved children & babies, 

Everyone expected me to skip into motherhood

I could not marry these dull feelings with the feelings I had before him

Weeks passed & the feelings still didn't come but the anxiety & the guilt grew

My symptoms didn't fall into normal postnatal depression

But then one day I started to cry

I didn't understand what was happening to me

I couldn't understand why I didn't love something I wanted so much

I cried each time my parents left as I worried about how we would cope without them

My Mother was my rock & I felt I needed her constantly

Then one day, when she was leaving, I cried all day

I knew something was very wrong

I went to see my GP

I was diagnosed with Postnatal depression

But the medication they gave me made me worse, I seriously contemplated running away

I didn't want to see anyone or go out of the house

Life seemed even greyer, darker, I felt really scared

Luckily I continued to confide in my husband

I told him how I felt & he told me to stop the drugs

Then I saw a psychiatrist & he diagnosed me with Post-traumatic stress then everything began to slot into place. 

The trauma I had experienced over the last year had caused this

The symptoms all fitted

I didn't want to go on drugs I thought I could fight it now I had a name for it

I thought counselling could get me through

But try as I might I just wasn't getting any better. 

Eventually, I was put on the correct medication, 

My whole body relaxed, my mind began to relax and I slept!

After much soul searching, we employed a night nanny

My parents continued to help with everything 

A close friend began to help out too

One day as I bathed my son I thought about the people around me, 

my son had grown incredibly close to his grandparents,

He had bonded with his daddy, 

He was happy to laugh & play with our night nanny, 

He had a new wonderful aunty in the form our my close friend,

At 8 weeks old he had a circle of love around him

I too had that circle of love, 

I was taking each day one step at a time, 

But each time I did something new I felt a bit better, 

My friend accompanied on shopping trips with my little man, 

My Mum went with me the first time I took him in the car, 

My husband worked part-time so he could be with us whenever he could,

I started to feel better, 

I started to think things would be alright, 

Then one day, after I had bathed my son, 

We were alone together as I dried him & put on his cream. 

I smiled down at him as I always did.

And I felt it… that huge surge of love for my little man, 

I wept with happiness & showered him with kisses.

My little one is now 15 months and amazing!

He is such a sunny, happy chap, 

We have bonded so well, in fact, the first thing I taught him was how to give kisses

I am completely back to my old, confident, bubbly self.  

I feel incredibly close to my son & privileged to have him. 

And we are lucky enough to still have the same wonderful circle of loving people around us

If this helps just one person I will be happy!