I'm mum to three fantastic kids; Jack 9, Tess nearly 7 (she'd prefer that to 6) and Neve is 2. When I had Jack it was the most wonderful thing, I fully loved being a mum and it was me and him against the world! When I gave birth to Tess, she was scrumptious and a really easy baby, who at 2 months old found her thumb and would self-soothe. Jack found it a little hard to adapt but no different to any other toddler with a new sister. I, on the other hand, seemed to find it harder and harder. Maybe it was a bad idea to have had another child and I just couldn't mother 2 children at the same time.
I felt so low I would sometimes sit Jack in front of the TV and go and sit on his bed and just cry. I chose his room because I always kept it tidy and it made me feel safe for some reason. Other times I would shout at him and get cross and then I'd cry and apologise. Andy would come home after work and I would confess everything to him in tears again. I also had this mad anxiety that the children were going to be taken. Even if they were about a metre away from me, I would be a little panicky and shout at Andy to make sure they were fine.
When Tess was around four months old we went on a trip to stay with my sister. I'd been panicking about the amount of milk Tess was getting and had attempted to top her up with formula, which had made it even more difficult for me to know how much breast milk she was getting. I was a little obsessed and very teary about it.
My sister, quietly watching this over a few days, asked if I'd spoken to the doctor about the milk situation or anything else. When I said no, she printed off a little questionnaire from the Internet and asked me to fill it out.
It was a Post Natal Depression questionnaire. This asked questions such as 'Have I been able to laugh and see the funny side of things?' - You had to tick one of the following answers (a) as much as I always could (b) not quite so much now (c) definitely not so much now and (d) not at all.
My sister, quietly watching this over a few days, asked if I'd spoken to the doctor about the milk situation or anything else. When I said no, she printed off a little questionnaire from the Internet and asked me to fill it out.
It was a Post Natal Depression questionnaire. This asked questions such as 'Have I been able to laugh and see the funny side of things?' - You had to tick one of the following answers (a) as much as I always could (b) not quite so much now (c) definitely not so much now and (d) not at all.
My score suggested that I could have post natal depression.
When we came home I made an appointment to see the doctor and again he asked me to fill out the same questionnaire. He told me that I had post natal depression. It felt like a weight had been lifted off me - maybe I wasn't a terrible mum after all... maybe it was okay that I had more than one child....these two doubts had been my constant companions.
I was given a prescription for anti-depressants. As a Christian, I didn't know how I should feel about taking them. Shouldn't I be able to pray about this and it go away or was I failing at that too? My personal time with God had hit an all time low through all this. I knew He was real but I couldn't feel Him, I couldn't worship Him and I couldn't really connect with Him.
I spoke to my parents, my sister and obviously Andy and decided to start taking the pills. The doctor described it to me as a chemical imbalance in my body, caused by the baby hormones. The pills would adjust that imbalance and gradually get it back to normal. My body would then start to be able to do it by itself without the help of the medication and then I could come off them. That seemed do-able. I would not be on them forever but they would help for a time. I took a low dose, it levelled me out and made me able to see life in a less extreme way. I still had the full range of emotions but they were more 'normal'.
My health visitor signed me up to a PND group (we called it my 'mad' group) which ran for 13 weeks every Monday morning, for three hours. It was a little cringy to start with - a group of 'mad' women all in a room together, coming to talk about our feelings and our lives. But it did mean someone looked after my children for me for 3 hours each week for free, so I kept going. Some days, I didn't feel like talking, other days I cried. There were other times when you couldn't shut me up. What it did do was made me realise how much I didn't talk about how I felt, particularly to other women - particularly to other Christian women - because they all had it sorted didn't they?! God started to really show me how to open up and how to trust people with my feelings and my emotions. In return, it could really help me build relationships and take my friendships to a deeper level. It sounds obvious I know.
Andy was amazing. I think he lost me pretty much for nearly two years. Our physical relationship became almost non-existent, I didn't really laugh much anymore and I was permanently anxious. I completely depended on him and would often phone him at work saying I couldn't cope and that he would have to come home. He said he could tell I was getting better when I was able to laugh at myself again, when things became lighter and I started to relax.
I started growing vegetables. Being able to prepare the soil, plant seeds, watch them grow and then harvest them was amazing, I was in control of something! It also brought me closer to God. It sounds silly but I felt so close to His creation and that was lovely. I think I mostly listened to worship music at the time, instead of reading the bible because I couldn't concentrate. I would play it loud and just let it wash over me.
giving you water when you are dry
and restoring your strength.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like an ever-flowing spring." Isaiah 58v11
Two and a half years ago, I had Neve. I was told the odds were against me and I would probably get post natal depression again, I didn't.
Looking back now, it has taught me a lot. I do have weaknesses that need protecting but I think I now know my limits. I'm quicker to share when I think I'm going down and don't see it as a failure as much. I'm (a bit) better at asking for help. I have more patience and a lot more compassion for something that I had no real understanding of before. God's taught me that the fruits of His spirit are gifts that I can have. I just need to focus on Him more and not the world around me. And then, when I focus on Him, those gifts flow out of me more freely too. I feel he's added another string to my bow, another experience in life I can use to help others with, another scar that just adds character.