Postnatal depression : My story.

March 3rd 2009, I had just given birth to most beautiful baby I'd ever seen, perfect in every way. There she was, snuggled up in the blanket on my chest making the most adorable sounds. "What do you know about being a mum?" came a silent voice. Looking around the room at all the people busy with cleaning up afterwards, Sean sat on the chair next to the bed tears of happiness in his eyes.. I pushed that thought to the back of my mind. 

"She doesn't look like me", 

"Is she even mine?" 

"You can't even feed your own child, failing already"

I wish now I had spoken up, told someone that something didn't feel right but like all mum's who have PND fear stopped me. I cried alot while I was in hospital. Eva wouldn't feed and midwifes gave up helping me telling me "you can't do it" and handed me a bottle. This pushed me further in, thinking I had failed, it was a thought that remained with me for almost a year. When the doctor did her rounds she found me in tears, she asked if I was okay but that silent voice came back, "She's judging you" so I told her I was just tired. She smiled and left, I heard her on the other side of the curtain say "Some mum's just don't cope". I remember an overwhelming feeling of fear, exhaustion and failer. When Sean arrived I lied to him to and I carried on lying to everyone for months.

When I was left with Eva alone for the first time once Sean had returned to work I was terrified. I looked at Eva lay silently in her Moses basket and cried. My mum came home around 4pm and I handed Eva to her and just sat on Facebook doing nothing but reading through my news feed over and over. It became my escape. People made comments that I spent too much time on there, but nobody asked why and they were just added to the list in my head of people "judging" me. 

I became trapped in a never ending cycle, everyone would leave for work. I would do the things that needed to be done, bum changing, bottles, and spent the rest of the time lay on the sofa or on the computer, either crying or just staring into space. Someone would come home and I would make an excuse up why I needed to hand Eva to them "I need the loo" "I need a shower" " I haven't eaten yet".. 

It went on for months until my Health Visitor said the words, "Carly, talk to me". Telling someone felt amazing, I no longer felt alone. She didn't judge me, in fact she told me it was normal, that lots of new mums feel this way. I wasn't alone. I wasn't failing. I was ill. I wish I could tell you that telling her made it all go away, but of course it didn't. Eva was 11 months old when she took her first steps and for the first time ever I felt a rush of love for her. I felt my whole body relax at that moment, I finally felt like a mum. I remember picking her up and snuggling her and feeling like I wanted to cry. It was the moment I had waited for for 11 months.

PND is nothing to be fearful of, or embarrassed by. It doesn't mean your failing and it doesn't make you less of a mum. I wish I'd have spoken up right away because then I would have been able to enjoy my daughter rather just watching from the side lines. She is and always will be my best friend.

Bean xo