In no way did I feel the way the they portray postnatal depression on TV. Not once did I want to smother my baby or whatever else they say comes with it. I loved Isla as much as I do now, the same way any other mum loves their tiny baby. My problem was an overwhelming fear of guilt. It wasn't even that I didn't want to be a mum, I just didn't want to become a mum in the circumstances I did. I didn't want to have "failed" my baby from the moment she was entering the world, I didn't want her to have come into this world scared and in destress and about to die, but she did. I just wanted to go back and do it right, do it the "normal" way - have a normal story to tell instead of a horror story. I still wanted to be a mum, I still wanted to be a mum to Isla. I didn't want to be the mum who's baby was almost dead when she was born.
I'd loved Isla so much throughout my pregnancy, I wanted her SO much and I already had an overwhelming maternal instinct and need to protect her and love her but after my traumatic birth those feelings disappeared. The bond I felt with my baby was gone. All I felt when I looked at her was guilt, like I was the worst mother ever within seconds of becoming one. Id wanted nothing more than to protect her, how could I have failed at that so much that she almost died? I thought there was no way I could make up for that.
I didn't mention anything at first, I thought it was normal. My midwife asked if I felt overwhelmed and I obviously said yes and she assured me it was normal, the bit I missed out wasn't that I felt overwhelmed with love, happiness and pride it was with a sense of failure and disappointment. But she said it was normal to feel overwhelmed, right?
Days passed and I avoided holding her and changing her and feeding her as much as I could without making it too obvious that I wasn't feeling this motherhood thing and before I knew it 2 weeks had passed. It was time for Carl's paternity leave to end and him to go back to work, but it was nearly Christmas - I had to do 2 days before he was off again for 10.
I could manage that.
Feed. Wind. Change. Sleep. Repeat.
Christmas came and went and I blamed my feeling miserable on constipation and tiredness (which wasn't a lie) but I knew deep down there was something else holding me back. But I was just feeling overwhelmed - it's normal, remember?
By now Islas a month old and I've changed minimal nappies and every second that she slept I'd watch her praying she didn't wake up until Carl could see to her, at night id watch her and not sleep because if I did I knew I would just dream and relive her birth so I'd do my best to keep myself awake or make sure my sleeps were all short and light so I didn't dream. I could do this because it would pass soon enough.
Nope, it didn't pass. Every time she cried, every time she struggled to burp, every time her poo leaked out of her nappy, every time all the bottles were dirty and every time she didn't quite drink as much as she did last time I blamed myself - I felt in some way it was my fault her poo was that bit too big for her nappy to handle or that she wasn't quite as hungry as she was 5 hours ago because I was just doing it all wrong.
All these feelings came to the surface in one big go. I had a melt down and for the first time in 4 weeks I didn't lie in bed scared to dream, I lay there wondering where it all went wrong and how I'm managed to lose control so badly.
The next morning I went to the doctors and asked for help. They diagnosed me with post natal depression and suspected post natal post traumatic stress disorder and I was out on medication to help.
1 month later I'm feeling better. These feelings never go away, I doubt I'll ever fully accept that I can't change the way she came into the world, and every time she cries I'll always wonder if it something I did or didn't do and I still have moment where I feel like I'm completely alone where no one understands how I feel, what my experience is and that no one wants to know either but that's part and parcel of this illness. But you know what? I have the most amazing support around me and when Isla wakes up and looks around the room for me and her eyes light up the second she sees me - I know it.
I'm doing it right.
