Recovering from PND… twice

ldnfashionbaby - 4 Feb 16

God I was such a know-it-all! Why shouldn’t I be? Head Girl, Cambridge, successful career, lovely husband, great friends. The world had been kind to me. The only thing I ever failed at was grade three violin (and maybe the odd driving test). Mental health problems were for weirdoes, attention seekers, the weak. How wrong I was and how little I actually knew. Life had sold me a dream about starting a family. It would be amazing, magical and many other superlatives. But, as you grow older, and you see people miscarry, struggle to conceive and in my case suffer PND, you realise that the process is not that easy.

We planned to have a baby, we tried for six months, he was very much wanted, but the minute he arrived it started. I felt absolutely nothing! This little boy, who I am now besotted with, felt like an alien. I resented that he had come in between me and my husband. For the first two weeks I tried to hide it, but I was fixated on the day that Mr LFB would have to return to work. On this day I cried, I talked to my mum and screamed over the baby screaming in a sling on my chest. “I can’t do this” I said, “You have too” my husband replied as he reluctantly left for work. My response? “No I don’t, I will leave him on the steps of social services”. What was I thinking? Well I wasn’t, depression was thinking for me. The final realisation was on a Saturday, five weeks in, a kind couple, in a lift with their six month old, looked at me as the baby screamed and screamed. “It’s hard isn’t it.” they said. This kindness tipped me over the edge. I cried uncontrollably, in public. I sobbed that the baby was so embarrassing and everyone was looking at us! Think it may have been me they were worried about.

That afternoon Mr LFB took me to a drop in GP, knowing if we waited until Monday I would find an excuse. She was sympathetic, understanding and confirmed my fears that I was suffering with Post-Natal depression. Later I saw my own GP and was prescribed antidepressants. He warned me that things may get worse, that I would be even more exhausted and that I needed support. Thankfully this is what I got. My wonderfully supportive parents, my incredibly understanding in-laws and of course Mr LFB, scrapped me up off the floor and between them didn’t leave me alone until I felt a lot stronger. There were times when I felt ok, there were times when I cried and there were times that I stared into space wishing that something would take away this black fog that was suffocating me. Eventually I felt better; I made great friends and started socialising again. However, the medication masked the problem and I turned down counselling when the NHS, who are woefully overstretched, were eventually able to offer it to me, four months after diagnosis. It took me eighteen months to really feel like my old self. The best way I can describe myself is ‘totally lacking resilience’, the smallest setback would make me cry.

The interim years were wonderful. Bear gave me joy that I could not have imagined. We laughed, we cried, we argued and I enjoyed every minute of watching my wonderful boy grow up. After nearly three years I was ready to do it again. I was lucky and got pregnant immediately, but just as instantly the anxiety hit me. In a split second, as those little lines appeared, I went from wanting a second child to doubting that I could cope if the depression came back. However, after a couple of sleepless nights I got excited. I enjoyed my pregnancy and had a, nearly, pleasant delivery (helped by an epidural and wonderful doctors and midwives). She didn’t cry straight away and I was terrified. I loved her immediately and prayed she was ok.

For two weeks everything was as it should be. Kitten is, and has been since day dot, a much calmer baby; Bear was always a wonderful whirlwind. “I have beaten it” I told everyone, “It is so different to last time”. And that is the strange thing, when it arrived, the depression was different. I never rejected the children but I was just so sad. I could barely get out of bed, I had to be lifted into the shower and I looked at a swimming pool thinking how much I would like to float away, permanently. It was a physical pain worse than anything else I had experienced and I just never knew when it was going to go away. Luckily for me, given my history, I was already under the care of the peri-natal mental health team at Chelsea and Westminster hospital. I reluctantly agreed to take medication again and this time I was immediately offered counselling. The combination has proved effective. I really believe that one without the other would not have worked and timely access to these services is vital.

So, here we are, five months after Kitten was born and I genuinely feel very happy and in control. I have no desire to go into the details of what I have discussed in counselling, but I will say my counsellor is wonderful and has helped me address some long term issues that I was not even really aware of. I continue to take the medication, and will do so as long as advised to, but other than that everything is back to normal.

And so to the title. Exercise has been an enormous mood booster, through both of my episodes of depression. I vowed, in my darkest moments, that if I ever felt better I was going to run and run, to make money for others suffering from mental health problems. This is why, to start with, I will be running three 10k races for the charity Mind. I don’t know how people live with these illnesses long term, some with far too little support. The numbness, the shame and the guilt is endless. The image of my husband breaking down, with despair after my first diagnosis, in his father’s arms will haunt me for the rest of my life. If I can do something to, help Mind, help others, than I will have something positive to put in place of the lost months. Something I can be proud to tell my children about.

I have written this for a number of reasons, one being that it is very cathartic, but most importantly I want other woman to know they are not alone. This illness affects more people than you realise and it is nothing to be ashamed of. Please get help quickly if you think there is a problem and don’t be defensive if someone else suggests there might be. One day it will all be a distant memory and you will not recognise that version of yourself. I, for example, am back to my usual shopaholic self and whoever thought that Mr LFB would be relieved about my overspending!

http://www.mind.org.uk/

http://www.time-to-change.org.uk/timetotalkday

ldnfashionbaby

I am the author of lifestyle blog LDNFashionBaby. I am a mummy of two beautiful babies, whose adventures are documented on my blog. I love fashion, fitness and rubbish TV!

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