My Post Natal Depression Experience
So, I have my kid and then what happens? I find myself not just disliking her but genuinely, deeply hating her. To me, she was the embodiment of everything that was wrong in my life at the time and she was very much not wanted. She wasn't a difficult baby by any means - she slept 12 hours a night, ate every four to six hours during the day and only made a noise when she needed something. Some mothers may even say she would be their dream baby...but not me. I didn't even want a child in the first place, but all other options were too frightening to consider and my boyfriend at the time was adamant I was going to have her.
As it was, he was absolutely useless - used to disappear for days on end, spend all our money and then come back high, drunk or both. I was left to do everything and, not surprisingly, I became ill with post natal depression. Not that anyone believed me at first, mind you. It was all "oh, I'm sure you're mistaken" and "Just snap out of it". Yeah, real helpful stuff(!) The health visitor was brilliant and supported me greatly whilst my family did what they could to help out with baby sitting. But, as you know, it's not enough and people can't be there 24/7...and it's those times that are the hardest to cope with. I won't go into details about the sort of things I used to do when left alone with her, but suffice to say it was enough for social services to register her as at risk of serious physical harm.
I was on huge amounts of medication, I went to three help groups a week and I saw a private counsellor but nothing was helping. I couldn't cope with my home situation as my boyfriend was very abusive and often left us without money for food or basic baby products like nappies and powdered milk. On the outside, I was doing well. On the inside, I was a mess and didn't understand why I couldn't even like my own baby - let alone love her.
Things all came to a head when I'd finally kicked my useless boyfriend out and was living alone with my baby. I have no idea how old she was at the time as I actually cannot remember most of her first two years because I was so ill - but she was under 18 months. I remember sitting late at night in the kitchen with a glass of water and all my pills out on the table in front of me. I had had enough by this point and with no money, no job and a long life of single parenting seemingly stretching ahead of me, I couldn't face even waking up in the morning. Just as I was about to take the first handful of pills, I heard my daughter calling from upstairs. Furious at being interrupted, I stormed upstairs to give her a good hiding but stopped at the door - she was standing in her cot, hair all messed up, rubbing her eyes and holding out her arms to me. Bear in mind that this child would cower when I came into a room and I was totally unaware she could walk, stand or even talk - so this is big stuff. She then said, "Mummy cuddle" and those are the first words I can remember her ever saying. I don't know what happened there but I broke down straight away and for the first time I could recall in a long time, I picked up my child and held her for over two hours. I can still hear myself just saying sorry over and over again - I can honestly say it was the defining moment in my recovery and the first step towards the whole maternal bonding process that until that point was completely alien to me.
Shortly after, Social Services removed her from the register and decided I was no longer a threat and did not require extensive observation so I was effectively "freed" from one of my help groups. I read my file before leaving and couldn't believe that the person they were describing was me...one comment I recall vividly was "Baby is on floor crying. Mother looks down at baby and says 'What's your problem? There's nothing wrong with you' and then carries on conversation with other clients in room. Key worker takes over care of baby for remainder of session as mother shows no further interest." It shakes me now to think that this was me just a few years ago...From diagnosis to being medication and therapy free it took a total of almost 24 months - I've missed out on a lot but we spend plenty of time making up for it - and of course she remembers nothing, which is such a relief.
Now many of you will be thinking that I shouldn't have been allowed to keep my child - and that is exactly why so many post natal depression sufferers refuse to be diagnosed. They don't talk to others for fear of having their child taken from them and because they don't want people to think they are mad or making it up. Truth is, becoming a parent whether for the first or fiftieth time is new, exciting, terrifying and so damn hard it's unbelievable. Now I wouldn't be without my little girl - I look at her and think about how lucky I am and how close I came to losing her so many times. What post natal depression sufferers need is support, understanding and a listening ear - not a bunch of stuck-up, self-righteous busybodies hell bent on trying to split up families without giving them a chance. There is a huge difference between post natal depressives and abusive, uncaring parents. The key is in the understanding and diagnosis of the illness and not tarring us all with the same brush, leaving numerous NSPCC leaflets on our coffee tables and mumbling the ChildLine number under their breath every time they see us with our kids. We want to love our kids - we just need a bit more help than others.
For more information about post natal depression and the different ways of coping with it, check out the My Stopgap article Post Natal Depression