“Your little boy seems perfectly happy and healthy.” Most mothers-to-be would be delighted to hear these words at their 20 week scan, right? Not me. My first response is panic. You’d think I’d be pleased things were all okay (especially after making the heart-breaking decision to terminate a previous pregnancy). But the anxiety of having to carry a baby to full term, give birth and then somehow nurture him for the rest of my life was a real trigger for my anxiety and depression. Of course, at the time I didn’t realise all this.
When you announce that you’re expecting, people are excited for you. I tried to act excited too and tried to push those niggling, dark thoughts to the back of mind. I wish I’d acknowledged them sooner.
Looking back, I know that I was fortunate to have been on the radar of the mental health support team. Having previously suffered with anxiety, depression and an eating disorder, I was offered support from a midwife who specialised in mental health. At the time, I thought it was completely unnecessary but I cannot express how grateful I am now that I accepted that help.
My pregnancy was uneventful. My baby boy grew and thrived in my womb. I continued to be as active as possible, determined not to put on weight. My midwife closely monitored my eating and exercise habits and overall mood. I didn’t love the way my body was changing but I tried to be okay with it. I had wobbles and, from time to time, full blown anxiety attacks. I’d be lying if I said there weren’t times I wished I could go back in time and not conceive, but, for the most part, I was okay.
Like all mothers-to-be, as my due date grew closer, my anxiety grew greater. My midwife helped me to create a birth plan and mentally prepare for the possibility of things not going to plan. I was scared but felt well supported. When my midwife suggested I meet with the perinatal team before the baby was born, it felt like she was predicting that I would fall apart as soon as the baby was born. I reluctantly agreed. I’m so glad I did.
Nearly 3 weeks late, my little boy’s birth was long and difficult. A lot of things went wrong. My anxiety took over and I really struggled. Unfortunately, the specialist midwife who had supported me throughout my pregnancy was off sick so (aside from one amazing midwife who seemed to understand my mental health issues) my husband and I had to get through it on our own. Those 5 days were amongst the worst days of my life. Yes, you read that right: 5 days!
From the moment my boy was born, I just felt hopeless. Suicidal. Anxious. Terrified. Broken. I figured it would pass – just hormones, I thought. It didn’t. It got worse. I started to have intrusive, terrifyingly dark thoughts. I didn’t want this baby. I didn’t love him. I didn’t want to be alive. Going anywhere, seeing anyone, doing anything: it all seemed too hard.
Having already established a relationship with the perinatal team, I slowly started to let them into my world. Over time it became easier to talk to them about some of the horrible thoughts that were haunting me. I started to articulate the fears I had about going out of the house. I revealed the way I felt about my baby. And that was the start of a difficult journey.
The perinatal team helped me more than I can say. They helped me to bond with my son. They helped me to manage my anxiety. They helped me to establish new friendships. They helped me to realise that I wasn’t alone. They helped me to see that I am capable of being a good Mum. On top of the help they gave me, they also facilitated a support group where I met lots of lovely women who were battling similar issues. A supportive, judgement free community, for which I am incredibly grateful.
I still have wobbles. I still dislike my post baby body. I still doubt myself every day and sometimes those dark thoughts pop into my mind. It never goes away but, thanks to the perinatal team and the support group, I feel like I can face the challenges that lie ahead. And more to the point, I know I love my son and our bond is the strongest it’s ever been.
Whenever those wobbles happen, it’s so amazing to be able to send a message in the WhatsApp chat and read supportive messages from real people, helping me to see tiny glimmers of light in the darkness.
For any mother to be, new mother, or even a mother who’s little one isn’t so little anymore, if you’re finding no joy in anything or experience dark or anxious thoughts, you’re not alone. We’re here.
When you announce that you’re expecting, people are excited for you. I tried to act excited too and tried to push those niggling, dark thoughts to the back of mind. I wish I’d acknowledged them sooner.
Looking back, I know that I was fortunate to have been on the radar of the mental health support team. Having previously suffered with anxiety, depression and an eating disorder, I was offered support from a midwife who specialised in mental health. At the time, I thought it was completely unnecessary but I cannot express how grateful I am now that I accepted that help.
My pregnancy was uneventful. My baby boy grew and thrived in my womb. I continued to be as active as possible, determined not to put on weight. My midwife closely monitored my eating and exercise habits and overall mood. I didn’t love the way my body was changing but I tried to be okay with it. I had wobbles and, from time to time, full blown anxiety attacks. I’d be lying if I said there weren’t times I wished I could go back in time and not conceive, but, for the most part, I was okay.
Like all mothers-to-be, as my due date grew closer, my anxiety grew greater. My midwife helped me to create a birth plan and mentally prepare for the possibility of things not going to plan. I was scared but felt well supported. When my midwife suggested I meet with the perinatal team before the baby was born, it felt like she was predicting that I would fall apart as soon as the baby was born. I reluctantly agreed. I’m so glad I did.
Nearly 3 weeks late, my little boy’s birth was long and difficult. A lot of things went wrong. My anxiety took over and I really struggled. Unfortunately, the specialist midwife who had supported me throughout my pregnancy was off sick so (aside from one amazing midwife who seemed to understand my mental health issues) my husband and I had to get through it on our own. Those 5 days were amongst the worst days of my life. Yes, you read that right: 5 days!
From the moment my boy was born, I just felt hopeless. Suicidal. Anxious. Terrified. Broken. I figured it would pass – just hormones, I thought. It didn’t. It got worse. I started to have intrusive, terrifyingly dark thoughts. I didn’t want this baby. I didn’t love him. I didn’t want to be alive. Going anywhere, seeing anyone, doing anything: it all seemed too hard.
Having already established a relationship with the perinatal team, I slowly started to let them into my world. Over time it became easier to talk to them about some of the horrible thoughts that were haunting me. I started to articulate the fears I had about going out of the house. I revealed the way I felt about my baby. And that was the start of a difficult journey.
The perinatal team helped me more than I can say. They helped me to bond with my son. They helped me to manage my anxiety. They helped me to establish new friendships. They helped me to realise that I wasn’t alone. They helped me to see that I am capable of being a good Mum. On top of the help they gave me, they also facilitated a support group where I met lots of lovely women who were battling similar issues. A supportive, judgement free community, for which I am incredibly grateful.
I still have wobbles. I still dislike my post baby body. I still doubt myself every day and sometimes those dark thoughts pop into my mind. It never goes away but, thanks to the perinatal team and the support group, I feel like I can face the challenges that lie ahead. And more to the point, I know I love my son and our bond is the strongest it’s ever been.
Whenever those wobbles happen, it’s so amazing to be able to send a message in the WhatsApp chat and read supportive messages from real people, helping me to see tiny glimmers of light in the darkness.
For any mother to be, new mother, or even a mother who’s little one isn’t so little anymore, if you’re finding no joy in anything or experience dark or anxious thoughts, you’re not alone. We’re here.
