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! 

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.