Baby Blues & PND

Hi everyone,

I wanted to write a post about something a little bit different today, which affects thousands of women every single day, which is quite close to my heart. Baby blues and post natal depression (PND).

I had my son 12 weeks ago, by emergency C-section, which I won't go in to now as that could be a whole other post on its own! The hospital were great, the nurses and midwives couldn't have been better. They were helpful, and attentive and I couldn't have asked for better. As I had an emergency section, I ended up staying in for 3 days and when they finally told me I could leave, I wanted to skip out of that hospital (had it not have been for the major surgery and stitches holding me together).

I thought everything was fine, and that this was the start of the rest of our lives. I couldn't wait to get home and start living with my new, perfect little bundle, who I instantly loved as soon as they placed him on me in the operating theatre. And yet, walking from the hospital to the car (in the miserable rain, I might add) something inside me switched. Suddenly I was terrified. I didn't want to go home. I wanted to stay in the comfortable care of the hospital. I pushed these feelings aside and we drove home.

As soon as we got home, there were balloons and presents and cards all waiting for us. And I felt like I should have been so happy. Suddenly everyone starting texting me, and calling me, and knocking on the front door.

I didn't want people around me, and yet at the same time, I didn't want to be left alone. I felt like I should be so happy, I was home, I had my happy, healthy, beautiful baby and this was the start of everything. And yet, inside, I was panicking. I was scared and terrified, I didn't know what I was doing. Everything was too overwhelming. I wanted everything to just go away. I wanted normality.

Family turned up at the house, and my baby was crying for food. I took him upstairs to feed him because I wanted to be alone, but we were having issues with breastfeeding. He was having trouble latching on, and really I think this was the start of how my feelings developed over the weeks. I felt such pressure to breastfeed, and I really, really wanted to. I would have given anything to breastfeed. I believed that it was the best thing for him, and if I didn't give him the most natural thing he should be having, I failed as a mother.

And yet, as soon as I got to my bedroom and tried to feed him, of course, we failed. I just couldn't do it. He couldn't latch on, no matter how many nurses and midwives had tried to help me, no matter how many times I tried and tried myself. I blamed myself entirely. There must be something wrong with me if I couldn't do the most simple, natural act for my child.

And so, I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried. Everything felt like it was my fault, I was ruining everything, I should be so happy and yet I was crying. I should want to share the most beautiful, best thing in my life with the world, but I wanted to just lock us away and not see anyone ever again.

Eventually my partner come to see what was taking us so long, and found me in a crumpled mess, clutching our crying, hungry baby, wishing I could make everything perfect. It was at this point I decided to start expressing my breastmilk so that I could at least feed our son.

The days and days went on. My partner was perfect, he couldn't have been any better. He let me sleep when I needed it, helped me feed our son as I was expressing milk, tried to cheer me up. But there was something underlying that just wouldn't go away. It would be there when I tried to sleep, when I woke up. I couldn't eat. In less than 2 weeks, I was back to my pre-baby weight. Every time I went in to the bathroom, I was alone and felt like I could just cry my heart out. This would have been perfect if I didn't wear makeup on a daily basis. I felt disgusting and ugly, my body is covered in stretch marks and I hadn't been able to reach my legs to shave them for weeks before I went in to labour (TMI!).

This went on for several weeks. Every time I went upstairs to express milk, i'd come back down with my mascara all over my face. Whenever anyone asked "and how are YOU doing mum?" I'd burst in to tears. I didn't even want to see my own mother. I remember one car journey to Cardiff with my partner, who asked if I was looking forward to the weekend and I just started crying and crying like I would never stop. I honestly felt like I was going mad.

I just wanted to be myself again, but I seemed to forget that I was myself. I was just a new myself. My whole life has changed, and I never even expected to have children, so of course this was a complete shock to my life.

My health visitor suggested I go to a few baby classes, to meet other mums, to talk about how I was feeling with people who would really understand. At first I was very, very reluctant. I didn't want to be around other mums, I felt like it might make me feel worse. It would enforce the feelings I was having that my life was over, that I was going to become ultra-mumsy and not even realise it. But, she booked me on to baby massage regardless.

My partner works shifts, and so one morning I was completely alone with my baby and decided I'd go and see what baby massage was about. And this seemed to be a turning point. I was able to take my baby out and do something with him, just us, I didn't need anyone else to help me, or tell me what to do, or make me feel bad about myself.

We're now 12 weeks in to my beautiful ones life, and it's getting better. I still have days I just want to pack my bags and run as far away as possible. I still have nights I just cry myself to sleep. I still have days I don't want anyone around me, and if I'm in a group with too many people I just lock myself away and pretend i'm doing something, anything, washing up, going to the toilet, cleaning the house.

But it does get better. It gets better every day, and we have less crying days and more smiling days. I don't expect things to magically get better. I was offered help and medication, which I chose not to take as I was breastfeeding at the time. However, one of the best things I did was to stop expressing my breastmilk and moving to formula feeding around 8 weeks. I spent less time locked away in my bedroom with a pump and more time giving my baby what he needs. Love.

I might come back to this subject in the future, when I feel like I have more to add. But at the moment, I just wanted to make a post which would have helped me 12 weeks ago, to know that it's ok to cry, and it's ok to feel like you're going mad, and it's ok to push people away if it makes you feel better. And to remember that these sad, miserable, lonely feelings aren't forever. When you cry and you don't know what's wrong or why you're even crying or why you feel so guilty for every single thing you've ever done in your life, it's all normal. Completely normal.

And your baby, and the love you suddenly feel, the most special, precious, unique love, is forever. And that's all that matters.

Bx