Personal Stories
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Anonymous
I fell pregnant easily and was very excited about becoming a mother. This was to be the first grandchild in both families and I was the first of my group of friends to have a baby. I had established a successful career which demanded long hours, and pressure to perform, I was quietly looking forward to a break from this environment and entering a blissful respite from my career.
I had no real health issues during my pregnancy, and had a great Doctor. Around this time I started reflecting on my relationships with people in my life and with my relationship with my own parents and a lot of anger was coming up for me. This really was the only vague sign that something was not right within me. I didn’t fit (in my mind anyway) the typical picture of a depressed or anxious woman. I had a plan. Big lesson learnt. We don’t have as much control in life as we may like to think.
Towards the end of my pregnancy my anxiety started to show. I was getting very overwhelmed with work tasks that I would normally take in my stride. I could no longer self medicate with wine at the end of a stressful day. My sleep suffered. I was going over things in my mind and couldn’t let go of things. I had totally unrealistic expectations of myself and how I need to be as a Mum. I was scared of labour, but had the presence of mind to realise that this was a very small part of a big picture and really just wanted to be the best Mum I could be. In my head that meant I need to be perfect.
I didn’t achieve my drug free delivery but didn’t mind too much about that. Breastfeeding was a nightmare. I was already failing as a Mum and this was not what I had planned. My halo was slipping. I felt useless. The one thing I needed to be able to do for my child was impossible for me. I felt judged harshly by other women, society, and the health profession. In reality it was me who was my harshest critic.
I gave myself no time to transition properly into motherhood. The day after delivering I was dressed in my clothes rather than Pj’s getting on with it as the ante natal educator suggested. I went out to lunch with friends with baby in tow the day after I left hospital. I enjoyed the compliments people were giving me - wow, I couldn’t get out of my pyjamas for the first 6 weeks. Good on you for getting back into your old life. No one once stopped and said what on earth are you doing? You have just given birth and become a Mum, slow down and enjoy this. Get to know your baby not what the book has to say. about how to do things. Take some time to stay at home and be looked after. I was basically hyper functioning - all the cooking, ironing, washing, domestic chores I was more than on top of. Baby on a nice feed, play, sleep routine. I was ticking all the boxes that society demands a good Mum should be doing yet inside I felt empty. Was this all that there was? The hollow feeling snowballed and snowballed and as it did so did my need to be perfect and control my outer world even more. I had no real conversations with other women about how I felt, choosing to perpetuate the myth that it should all be easy and one should just get on with it. You don’t admit to how you really feel that might mean people saw me as less than perfect and unable to cope.
It was just getting too hard to live up to the imagined expectations others had of me and my own expectations. For me, I didn’t end up needing anti depressants to sort through this I just needed to carve out my own way of mothering without being so self critical and trying to attain an unrealistic way of mothering. I spent time with a counsellor who helped me work through my feelings about this change I was going through. Throughout all of this people would look at me and think I had it all together and was an example of a Mum coping brilliantly (as my GP told me). In fairness I was not presenting my “real self” and feelings. If I had my time again I would be honest with myself and those around me about how I really felt. I feel that would have alleviated so much anxiety and would have meant I could enjoy my lovely baby more. I wasted 9months of my life feeling like crap whilst presenting the image of a “good mum”. It really wasn't worth it.
Lisa H
As a woman with a long history of depression and anxiety my chances of experiencing the dreaded post natal variety were much higher than average. I held onto hope though, my fierce optimism always keeping me positive!
My late teens and most of my 20s were spent in turmoil with my Mother living with a brain injury and advanced breast cancer. She died after 11 long years of pain and struggle, leaving my family devastated. Young carers often live with ongoing depression and anxiety and my brother and I became familiar with this statistic after losing our Mother.
It was 12 weeks since my angel baby was born that I started to notice nightly anxiety, often escalating to panic attacks. My initial reaction was denial, soldier on and it would go away!!
It was not to be, the more I tried to push it out of my system the more anxiety and panic I felt. It was time to reach out, tell someone what was going on for me and accept that I needed help.
My GP is one of my greatest allies and supports, he has supported me through my depression and anxiety for many years and he was the first person I wanted to share my sad news with. He immediately acted, referring me back to the hospital for a return visit to the woman I have come to affectionately term my Guru. This particular doctor has given me the most wonderful advice, treatment and support since I reached out for help, and I am so pleased that we are currently discussing a referral back to GP care. The medication and natural therapies I am combining have been the key to my slow yet steady recovery.
Post natal depression has been a slow, frightening experience for me. It has been isolating and it has resulted in me feeling a lack of support from some friends and an abundance from a small few. I often feel a sense of sadness for the things that I have lost whilst living with PND, luckily I have my angel baby to remind me of all that I have gained.
I chose to blog about my experience with PND because I feel strongly that it is not adequately accepted in our community. It is still somewhat of a taboo subject and this is unacceptable. Depression, PND in particular, need to be treated in the same way that chronic disease such as cancer is by society. It is my hope that by sharing my own story I am able to reach others who are also feeling isolated and alone.
Lisa M
Motherhood was going to be wonderful, the happiest and most exciting time of my life. That’s what everyone told me, all the books told me and from what I saw of other mothers and their children. I could not have predicted a journey so far from the truth in the three years that followed after the birth of my son, Charles, in January 2007.
After suffering two previous miscarriages, my pregnancy was stress free, but I was also very anxious about the possibility of losing another baby. Charles was born at 39 weeks after I was induced, and following a textbook labour of just four hours, I finally had my baby. He was perfect.
Life before Charles was good, it was easy. My partner Kevin and I, being very social people, spent our weekends catching up with friends and family, dining out at restaurants and spending time together doing what we wanted, and when we wanted. I went to the gym regularly and led a very busy and fulfilling lifestyle. My job was PA to a CEO (ironically at a mental health facility) and not only did I love my job, I had a lot of control - I like to be organised.
I can look back now and see that things really, were not good from the start. My expectations of motherhood were too high. All the mothers I had spoken to pre-child said it was hard, but no-one seemed to give any more detail. It was another world. I was determined to breastfeed. It was a disaster and I was forced to give it up when Charles was 6 weeks old as my nipples were so cracked and infected. My anxiety would build as every feed time approached and by the end of every feed, both myself and Charles were often crying. I was devastated. I was also severely sleep deprived and I did not like the chaos I was experiencing with a newborn baby. I was not functioning well. I was suicidal (but had no feelings to harm Charles). I had become very unwell, but having said that, was also in complete denial that something was wrong. When Charles was 7 weeks old I suffered a post-partum psychosis and severe post-natal depression followed. I was hospitalised in the mother-baby-unit at Monash Medical Centre for 3 months (with Charles) and I underwent ECT treatment to “bring me back”.
Once home again with Charles, I had to start over again. I felt as though I had been handed a 6 month-old baby. I had no emotional bond with him - I didn’t even like him. I was overwhelmed with the thought of how am I going to look after this child? My identity as I knew it was gone. I found the day-to-day life of caring for a young baby and also being at home full time boring and not fulfilling at all. I grieved for my old life. This was not how it was meant to be. No-one told me it was going to be like this. I was supposed to love my baby and be happy with my new role in life.
Over the next 3 years that followed I saw a psychiatrist for the first 12 months after leaving the mother-baby-unit and also participated in the mother-baby day program once a week, for 10 months, at the Albert Road Clinic. I rejoined my original mothers group - a couple of these women have become some of my closest friends. I returned to work part-time when Charles was one, at my choice I needed to go to work to not only feel valued again, but to socialise and have some time away from Charles. Although I was slowly getting better, I still found motherhood very demanding and unrewarding and I was very angry that this had happened, to me. I felt cheated that I had lost those first 6 months of his life - I would never get it back. It took me a long time to accept that I had experienced a mental illness and that the stigma associated with having post-natal depression was all I could see. I became very frustrated and resentful towards my partner at times as I felt it was my life that had completely changed, where he still could get up and go off to work every day. I was however, very lucky that he could work from home some days. My family - in particular my mum - has been my strongest support, always there for me and have helped with babysitting Charles. I also have lots of friends with young children who I have shared many a story of my new life of being a mum. I have a fantastic GP who I am still seeing once a month for a general check in. Over time, I began to enjoy spending time with Charles as he got older, more interactive, socially aware and became a little person. This is the child I wanted.
It took me nearly 3 years to get to where I am today. It does get so much better! I am back at the gym and am enjoying exercising again - this has helped enormously. I spend some time every weekend doing something for me. I have a great balance of part-time work and family life. I feel that I am a stronger person for suffering post-natal depression - I have a new appreciation for life in that you cannot take anything for granted.
After what has been the biggest challenge of my life, I can now say that Charles is, my best friend.
Rachel
My name is Rachel, I'm 29 years old. My daughter Clover is now two years old but straight after her birth I suffered severe perinatal anxiety and depression (post natal depression)
I felt helpless, disappointed, incompetent, angry, useless and guilty that I didn't feel what I was supposed to feel when I brought Clover into this world. I felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness and I knew I would to anything to keep her safe but love wasn't instant, it came later for me. That's really difficult to admit but I felt sorry for Clover that she'd gotten stuck with such a useless mother!
For the first 12 weeks (it felt like 12 years) of Clover’s life my depression and anxiety just kept getting worse, there was not a day that I didn't cry, panic, apologise to Clover or obsess about sterilisation (it would sometimes take me two hours to wash her bottles, then think they weren't clean enough so I'd wash them again before putting them in the steriliser). It took forever to even get one foot out of bed let alone stay out of bed. I didn't answer phone calls.
I never stopped caring for Clover but that took all of my strength - I had to be reminded and helped to look after myself by my supportive and strong husband Kane.
I was lucky to have such a great psychologist who was at times the only person I could tell my real feelings to. My GP, mental health crisis team, my psychiatrist and my early childhood nurse who all went above and beyond to help me get better. Despite all the support I was suicidal.
After reaching crisis point and feeling total despair Kane booked me into hospital and a few days later I was admitted to St John of God Hospital into the only mother and baby unit in NSW. This was the turning point for me, everyone there was amazing! Being with other mums going through the same thing was a huge help. I'm happy to say that I feel fully recovered. The love and bond I have with my daughter is indescribable - she's my angel, she helped me find strength I didn't know I had. I feel blessed to have survived and I love being a mother.