perinatal mental health

5 ‘Therapies’ that don’t involve a therapist.

October 23, 2022 — 2 Comments

My world has been spinning out of control again recently. I’ve felt once again overwhelmed and incapable of coping with so much responsibility whilst being so unwell. I’ve not felt like ‘me’ and some days, I’ve not been able to articulate what being ‘me’ feels like. The worst part is -or one of the worst part(s)- as I come out the other side now, is, I know all of these feelings are down to PMDD. Yes I still have overwhelming responsibilities and health issues, with seemingly endless insecurities, in spite of PMDD, but none of them feel as overwhelming when I’m not premenstrual. Such a scary illness… I can’t even… so I won’t…. Instead I’m going to list 5 things that have helped me cope and survive the past week during the latest luteal maelstrom.

I was lucky enough to spend the weekend in Weymouth with my mum and Ciara and truthfully, I had never needed the time away more. The weekend arrived when my panic and anxiety was highest in my cycle. Being around my mum is helpful because she’s very understanding. Though it’s still difficult sometimes to be around people when you’re not at your best. Below are some of the things that helped me through those days and I know they benefitted not only me, but Ciara and mum too.

1. Watching the sunrise.

There’s something so therapeutic about watching the sun rise. There’s a sacredness to being awake before the world officially starts it’s day. Of course there are always a few people milling around, but the first morning light is like a balm for my mind. Even better that this time I got to watch it by the sea. To view the sun’s reflection and listen to the waves lap at the same time is magical. I’ve always felt quite lonely and not very safe at the thought of going outside at the literal crack of dawn, but winter months bring a later sunrise and in the last fortnight I’ve made the effort to get up and out twice to watch it, and can report it was so worth it. There’s a placidity to it that calms my jangling nerves and puts me in a better place to start the day.

2. ‘Fancy’ dress-up

Let’s face it, we’d all like to pretend to be someone else once in a while, right? The sheer effort somedays to put a face of makeup on and make it outside is too much to bear thinking about, but somehow going out of the norm is strangely comforting. I loved being this witchy woman and picking pumpkins with my mini. I wasn’t even bothered at all the weird looks I got -and there were a few- if anything though, I got a confidence boost from them. Sounds weird I know, but with Halloween fast approaching there’s literally no better time to have a bash at being someone else.

3. Creative craft

It’s not ironic that I write my worst days. Ask any creative and they’ll tell you some of their best work was created during times of extreme stress or melancholy. Even without delving into the history of creatives and mental illness, for many of us craft and creativity can be a therapeutic outlet. In fact it’s even seen used in practice such as mindfulness and some forms of CBT. I often try to get creative with the kids when I or they are feeling stressed. It’s a great way to connect without any pressure. It’s something we both, particularly Ciara and I, find really relaxing. This (pictured) creative practise was simply ‘free’ drawing on pumpkins and it was soothing for us both, a great way to wind down from the day’s stressors or after lots of high intensity activity. It’s also a cute Halloween craft and a great idea for rainy days.

4. Creative Writing

As above. The creative process is a calming and therapeutic one. For me, words will always be my go-to outlet. Writing all my thoughts really does help me to process them. This notebook created by my friend and literary idol Emylia Hall, founder of the creative writing course Mothership Writers is full of motherhood writing prompts and gorgeous illustrations. It was the perfect accompaniment to a really rubbish week. I can honestly say I felt better during and after using it. It’s definitely going to be a permanent fixture in my self soothe kit.

5. Nature: Preferably involving wildlife

You don’t have to be an animal lover to appreciate the beauty of wildlife. Some of my favourite de-stress activities include animals in their natural habitat. When I first suffered with lingering PND after Ciara was born back in 2016, a common favourite was feeding the ducks and I’ve resorted back to doing this whenever I feel low. Earning the trust of wildlife requires being present and patient and that’s why it’s such a great grounding activity for when you feel as though you’re losing your mind. This little squirrel pictured, was a little too tame to be honest and made himself comfy on my thigh in wait for Ciara to snap open a monkey nut. It left me with a smile though, and there’s a lot to be said for simple pleasures.

This blog is not intended to substitute medical advice or the advice of a trained professional. If you need to speak to someone about your mental health, please make sure you do so. Be that your therapist, GP or an organisation such as Samaritans. And remember that if you’re concerned about your ability to keep yourself safe please call 999 or go to your nearest A&E.

In the interim though, these few simple, accessible and affordable techniques may help you focus on the present moment. Particularly for those rollercoaster mental health days that are often up and down. To prevent spiralling out of control all together, maybe one or two of these activities can help you process your thoughts a little more clearly. I’m by no means an expert, apart from in the field of my own lived experience, but everyday I am seeking small but manageable ways to be more mindful and regain a modicum of control over the often obsessive thoughts that plague me during both PMDD and times of high stress. We could all do with taking more breaks, and so I hope this blog will be helpful in encouraging you to do just that.

Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week.

May 1, 2022 — Leave a comment

MMHAW runs from 2nd-8th May 2022. It’s purpose is to raise awareness for mental illness and mood and anxiety disorders that occur during the perinatal space. The perinatal space is considered to be from pregnancy right up until your child is a year old, but in my personal experience this fluctuates for everyone. Last year during MMHAW, I was pregnant, and in a very dark place. I opted not to get involved in much awareness raising, though it was a decision that I found difficult, because spreading awareness of topics such as this, is so important to me. However, whilst these weeks/days/months are so important, they don’t come without triggers. So I want to let you know, if you’re in the perinatal space, just out of it, or five years postpartum, if spending too much time online is proving triggering for you right now, please take a break. Not feeling able to spread awareness is ok. Joining in for one day is ok. Wanting to get involved in the whole shebang is ok. Having good intentions and then changing your mind? Also ok.

Maternal mental health/illness is complex and the effects are different for everyone. We’re often warned of postnatal depression but maternal mental health is so much bigger than depression alone and definitely doesn’t just occur postnatally. I’ve had two babies and suffered with my mental health with both, throughout pregnancy and during the perinatal space. But the effects of each illness were very different. For example with my daughter I suffered low mood (depression) as more of a prominent symptom. I would want to be away from her a lot and I struggled with bonding and finding my identity as a mother. With my son, anxiety, OCD and the fear of ‘going mad’ was so severe that I ended up having a psychotic episode. I couldn’t be alone with my children for weeks after his birth. I felt as if something bad was going to happen whilst they were in my care.

Have you ever considered the language used in relation to maternal mental illness?

The reason I ask this, is because I have realised as a sufferer and survivor that we are still relatively behind in how we refer to maternal mental illness. Many people still only resonate with the term postnatal depression except we know that postnatal is just one period within the perinatal space. We know that depression is just one of the many perinatal mental illnesses that affect women during this time period.

Other types of maternal mental illness include

  • Maternal Anxiety
  • Maternal OCD
  • Peri and postpartum psychosis
  • Maternal suicide
  • Exacerbation of existing mental health conditions such as bipolar disorder and obsessive compulsive disorder
  • Development of menstrual disorders postnatally

Organisations such as PANDAS often now refer to mental illness that occurs during the perinatal space PMADS which stands for Perinatal Mood and Anxiety Disorders. Others refer to postnatal depression as PND or PPD and some like myself who suffered both depression and anxiety refer to it as PNDA. Perinatal depression and Anxiety. The terminology might not seem overly important, but what is important is the level of understanding and knowledge, that maternal mental illness is not just one symptom, it can often include all of the above at the same time.

I’ve just finished ten months of medical and therapeutic intervention since giving birth to my son in July 2021. I am also medicated for both anxiety and PMDD. Having my children crippled me physically, it shattered my mental health and any equilibrium in my life disappeared. I love my kids, that’s not in question. Though I found growing, birthing, and caring for both of them during the perinatal period, traumatic in the extreme.

What really saddens me when I look back now is that I cried out for help, particularly in my second pregnancy. From just seven weeks pregnant I asked for mental health support. I was told I wasn’t anxious or depressed enough at that time. There was no preventative intervention, nobody to guide me. Particularly as I carried my son during the height of the 2020 pandemic. By the time I was admitted to hospital on the verge of psychosis, the damage had been done. Not only did I need to recover from the trauma of a debilitating pregnancy, I had to do so whilst mentally very unwell and with two children to look after. I still believe that if I had been referred to the perinatal mental health service earlier in my pregnancy my experience would have been very different. You can read more about my experience during my second pregnancy here. Pregnant and chronically ill.

I haven’t shared Kaiser’s birth story, because still to this day, ten months on, after much therapy and support, I find it a harrowing and destabilising time to reflect on. I can talk about it in conversations but I struggle when recalling the details and writing it all down. It causes me pain. And whilst I’ve worked through a whole heap of trauma and accepted my illness, delving into and sharing the true extent of my thoughts is not something I’m completely comfortable with yet.

What I am willing to do is share a quote from the day he was born. A quote that I wrote in the notes on my phone during our first night with Kaiser.

I feel scared of my baby, scared of what the responsibility of being his mum means. I’m missing my other baby, I can’t cope with this one too. Am I a bad mum? I don’t want to be here, in this room with the yellow light and the sound of feet moving and trollies rolling outside of its door. I don’t want to go home either. I just don’t want to be HERE at all.

12.10am 02.07.21

There is a lot of work being done by charitable organisations such as PANDAS as well as The Perinatal Mental Health Partnership to find out what’s causing huge hold ups for people waiting for mental health care during the perinatal period. NHS England are also working on extending the time you can be supported when suffering perinatal mental illness. It’s currently until your child is a year old, however many women find symptoms of mental illness might occur later in the perinatal period and need further or ongoing support.

If you are struggling with your mental health at all please reach out to your GP or one of the organisations listed below. You’re not alone. If you feel like you’re not getting anywhere with your GP ask to see someone else. If you or someone you know is suicidal please visit your nearest A&E department or call your maternity unit immediately. Mental health care is for women during the perinatal period is as essential as physical healthcare.

News

April 29, 2022 — 1 Comment

I’m delighted to announce I have been nominated for two categories in this years’ Mental Heath Blog Awards.

MHBA are a way to showcase patients and advocates in the mental health community and it’s an honour to have been nominated.

See full list of nominees and their categories here. Voting is open and it would mean the world to have your support. 💚

Please click here to vote. 🗳 🗳 🗳

It’s time…..

All I want for Christmas, is you.

December 21, 2021 — 2 Comments

What a year. I can’t believe that just six months ago I felt as though my world had imploded without any real warning. I woke up one day and didn’t feel like me anymore. I was afraid for my sanity, for my mobility, for my family and our future.
I couldn’t see past six hours without having a panic attack let alone six months.
I led in my bed, day in day out for 7 months, unable to walk.
As my son’s due date approached my mental health declined.
I felt consumed by all consuming, claustrophobic, fear. Wracked with perinatal anxiety.
I was broken.
I guess that’s why they call it a breakdown.
But here we are now, a family of four, surviving interminable routine and carnage, poor health and therapy, work and parenthood simultaneously.
Loving each other through it all.
It’s not been easy, it’s been hard getting here, ridiculously fucking hard in fact, but it has paid dividends to keep going.

I’ve got everything I need this Christmas. Genuinely. I feel so content with my family. When I say this I mean content as in they are enough, not content as in getting loads of sleep or life being perfect, unfortunately! Ha! I know how blessed I am, I’ve always known it, but I really feel it this year. After everything we’ve been through I have a desire to keep them close and let them know how much I love them. The only thing I want for the big day is more of that contentment (as well as good health & freedom for all, world peace too, but I’ll refrain from getting too ambitious.)

I am not the same old me I was last Christmas. Granted, I’m still a stressy, messy, bitch with a foul mouth who is always exhausted…. but I am also different. I’m softer round the edges. More vulnerable I guess, if that’s possible, but stronger too. I believe that what doesn’t kill us can leave us with a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and I by no means, have ditched all mine. I haven’t turned into a preacher or someone who promotes their new lifestyle as some big epiphany, desperate for people to follow. But I am interested in change, in finding fun and contentment in new places. That makes me further away from those unhealthy coping mechanisms than I once was and I’m proud of that. I suppose what I’m trying to say is, I’m more open to learning better ways to survive and enjoy the mundane in the everyday.

I’m less inclined to sweat the small stuff whilst simultaneously being more interested in the big stuff.
My tolerance for a lot of things is greater, but less for small talk. I’ve always struggled with chatting aimlessly about the weather and the like, I’m too nosy, too inquisitive, I want to meet people and know them, not skirt around edges with hollow pleasantries. Similarly I’d rather be quizzed on my life than have it glossed over, skipped or ignored. I’m over hanging on to dead end relationships and chasing things that don’t bring me joy. Whether that be friendships that are more effort than fulfilment, or doing things I don’t enjoy anymore, for example forcing myself to be somewhere I don’t want to be. This year I have no desire for big boozy nights feigning Christmas cheer. I mean obviously the pandemic has some impact on those kinda outings, but I honestly think even without the plague, I’d still just want to be snuggled up close with my nearest and dearest.

Transitioning from one child to two has been a lot. I’m already anxious about how I’m going to cope with a baby that hates sleep whilst I’m trying to eat my turkey dinner. However, I’m ok with those kind of anxieties, they’re normal, they make me feel normal, whatever ‘normal’ is.
The biggest change of all for us this year is of course the fact we have an extra person round the tree to love. And love him we do. ❤️🎄

Intrusive thoughts during the perinatal period

November 13, 2021 — 1 Comment

Some people when they hear the words intrusive thoughts automatically assume that the person experiencing said thoughts is hearing voices. Some people think OCD, and others believe intrusive thoughts to be a sign that a person is bad, and will act on their thoughts.

So what are intrusive thoughts?

Intrusive thoughts are unwanted and or distressing thoughts that are often reoccurring. They are likely to leave the thinker very upset, distressed, disgusted, confused and ashamed.

It is thought that 1 in 5 women and mothers will suffer perinatal mood and anxiety disorders, and 57% of those will have experienced intrusive thoughts. Mental health professionals are not entirely sure why more women in the perinatal period experience intrusive thoughts, but it’s believed to be related to a variety of hormonal, environmental, and emotional factors. That said it’s a common symptom of PMADS. Typically, the thoughts that occur in the PP (perinatal period) are fears that surround our children, ‘What if I harm the baby?’ But the thoughts don’t always stop at physical harm and can be of any distressing nature, including sexual fears too.

To be clear before you read on, suffering from intrusive thoughts is NOT a reflection on a person’s character, desires or beliefs. The thoughts themselves go against all of our beliefs and natural instincts as mothers and do not align with our values, hence the very word for them being ‘intrusive.’ We don’t want these thoughts, we can’t bear them and it’s the very reason we are left feeling as though they are ruling and ruining our lives.

During pregnancy with my second child, I became overwhelmed with intrusive thoughts; some of them too abhorrent for me to share —though in some ways, I wish I felt I could share them all, then maybe they wouldn’t have consumed my brain! It got so bad that at just shy of 38 weeks I was hospitalised, under psychiatric care, my labour was induced and I was medicated for my mental health.

After my son was born and I was again assessed by a psychiatrist, she told me thoughts that are violent/harmful or as mentioned, occasionally sexual in nature, are the most common types of intrusive thoughts during the perinatal period. I asked her why this was, and she gave me a fantastic analogy.

You have this tiny human to care for. It’s your most important job, above any other. The thoughts that you are having are in direct conflict with your own anxieties about what could happen to your child. The thoughts are the very things you want less than anything in the world to happen.

But how do you know I’m not just a psychopath? I asked.

‘Because psychopaths don’t phone me up hysterical about upsetting thoughts, you pose absolutely no risk to your children. These thoughts are only hurting you.’

At this stage, I felt so out of my mind I didn’t know if I posed a risk to my children. I felt like I couldn’t think straight. But Dr M was adamant in her statistics in relation to harm caused by intrusive thoughts. Athough it didn’t ease the thoughts initially, it helped me to understand I wasn’t alone and other women and new mothers went through this too. She then went on to say (I feel like this is a big one…) the only person you pose a risk to, is yourself with your judgement about the thoughts.

I found that particular line about judgement really interesting because I realised quite quickly that it WAS the judgement that was keeping me in a cycle of constant fight or flight and inciting suicidal ideation. I felt as though my family would be better off without me.

I was overthinking every single thought and if I dared speak out about my thoughts, rather than feel better, I’d worry about other people’s judgement instead. That was until I met the most wonderful community psychiatric nurse. For the purpose of this blog I’m going to refer to him as Neo (He will appreciate the reference.) Neo has changed the way I think about intrusive thoughts, but more importantly, the way I feel toward opening up about them.

Maternal OCD is a mental illness that affects women in the perinatal period and includes intrusive and obsessive thoughts followed by compulsions completed in order to relieve some of the discomfort from the thought.

Ironically for me, my most intrusive thoughts were about convincing myself I had, or was going to develop severe mental illness (the irony isn’t lost on me.) I first believed I was developing psychosis, I was sure I would go on to hear voices telling me to kill or harm my children. This made me feel disassociated often. Despite not actually hearing voices I was convinced they were coming and I would be sat in my bedroom listening for them. I later googled intrusive thoughts which convinced me I was suffering from severe OCD, despite not having any compulsions. Another common thought for me, was passive suicidality, such as thinking I could just walk out in front of a lorry. Or consume all of the insulin in my possession. These thoughts would come to me during calm activities such as crafting or cooking tea.

When I discussed how I was feeling with Neo, he followed the protocol of having me fill out an OCD assessment, and we discovered that yes I was having obsessive and disturbing thoughts, but I didn’t have the compulsions in that were traditional in a person with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I’ve since learned not everybody with OCD experiences compulsions.

Looking back I can see the fear of speaking up about the intrusions was what held me back in my recovery and I would then worry that I was constantly reassurance seeking.

The truth was, there was an element to seeking reassurance, but for the most part I was doing what I needed to do, engaging in therapy and opening up in a safe space.

The mind plays tricks on all of us occasionally, and thoughts are the perfect segue into us believing we are not good people and therefore convincing us we’re unworthy of the love and compassion we so desperately NEED to give ourselves, particularly in the early stages postpartum when you wonder if you’re doing anything right.

Once I finally said aloud that one of my biggest fears was I didn’t want to be alone with my baby because I was terrified I would have a psychotic break and harm him whilst he slept. I was only then able to unpack the thought and see it with clarity for what it was, ‘just’ a thought.

If we all talked about our deepest darkest thoughts, we might be less bothered by them, but even today there is so much assumption and stigma attached to thoughts. People believe that if you think something you must feel it. With intrusive thoughts it’s the exact opposite.

The vulnerability of a woman who has just been through childbirth is like no other time in her life, the fear that we feel is immense. I personally (and wrongly) believed if I told the truth about my thoughts in the early stages postpartum, my children would have been taken away and I would have been sectioned.

You don’t have to open up about every thought in order to dismantle their hold on you though, you can put in to practise strategies and use them for all thoughts that cause you distress.

Neo recommended a book for me to read during my recovery and it’s called The Happiness Trap and is written by Australian doctor, Russ Harris.

In the pages of The Happiness Trap, Harris provides tools to defuse yourself from negative thoughts; and the book itself centres very much on acceptance. It took me a while to come round to the idea that I would ever accept distressing thoughts, but the idea is not to engage with them, just to accept them for what they are, random mental events and words.

Dr Russ Harris The Happiness Trap

If you’re suffering from intrusive thoughts in the perinatal period I would urge you to talk to your doctor. I know it’s hard, you may be feeling judged and terrified, but I promise you the road to recovery starts when you learn that you are not alone with in how you feel.

Organisations that can provide support during the perinatal period are:

I won’t say I’m cured, because that would be a lie, but I’m working towards how to better manage intrusive thoughts and not allow them to take over my life. 

Included at the bottom of this page is a link to ‘Buy Me A Coffee’ (or book, in my case) please don’t be put off by this! 
Currently, Divamum makes no money, and whilst I love writing, in order to keep growing I have decided to accept donations. 
Just to clarify you are in no way obligated to make a donation and at no point will this become mandatory, it’s just there as an optional extra for anyone who would like to and all information is available via the link. 

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/Divamumsteph

104 days postpartum

October 12, 2021 — Leave a comment

It’s funny how days are marked by our worst memories and our great ones, are often lost in mind with no clearly accessible date and time attached to them.

At 5am on the 11th October I woke up, eyes barely even open before I was thrust deep into a panic attack. My body wracked by the sensations, my mind reeling from the racing thoughts. To say I was devastated is an understatement, this is the first acute anxiety attack I’ve had in just under three weeks. Three weeks isn’t very long to most people, but it felt joyous to be able to think clearly for a while without the feeling of dread hanging over me. Without ruminating and catastrophizing. Without the pain in my teeth from my clenched jaw. Without the fatigue that hits you after yet another night of insomnia. Sleep when the baby sleeps… haha, if only.

What I’ve noticed though, in the fifty something days since I last updated my postpartum progress, is how hard I’ve tried to implement grounding techniques. How dedicated I have been to my recovery. I started a new contraception eight weeks ago to try and eliminate my periods, ergo reducing symptoms of PMDD. I’ve been on similar contraceptives in the past for the same reason. In this instance I have bled non stop for eight weeks. I am so run down I have ulcers in my mouth and reoccurring shingles pain, requiring more medication to combat. Around the same time I started the new contraception, I also switched my migraine medication for a slow release version and this has helped immensely with preventing attacks.

My son is now fifteen weeks old, he can hold a toy in his hand, chatter and laugh. but he rarely sleeps. His charming little face is one of the most beautiful I’ve seen, that is when it’s not screwed up like a tomato that’s past it’s safe to eat stage, wrinkly in places and as red as hell.

In the last one hundred and four days I have felt every emotion to ever exist. My days are now spent trying to wrestle a screaming baby into a car seat I’m unable to lift, and reading books about Biff and Chip with the big kid. I don’t get any opportunity to rest, which is hard when you have an illness that requires it. I’m mortified to admit some weeks it takes me three attempts before I manage a shower, and even then it’s hurried.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I find it much easier to remember all of the hard bits, the downs, the panic and the tears and I’m very good at choosing to ignore the successes. Deeming them unworthy in their minutiae. Such as; getting the baby down for a nap on the first attempt. Watching his sister cuddle up to him or gently bounce him in his bouncer with her foot, whilst idly watching yet another episode of Bluey. The beauty in the pumpkin patch photoshoot we’d had recently, a windy autumn day surrounded by orange and forest green, the memory of the rain pelting down on our clothes afterwards, and rushing home to drink hot chocolate.

Watching my son grow, though hard, has not been wholly clouded by my poor health. It’s been beautiful in so many ways, and I’ve enjoyed very much time spent with him. I can feel my confidence as a mother returning somewhat. I have my first night out coming up and I’m anxious. When my daughter was a baby I couldn’t wait to get out, feeling more than ever that I needed to let off steam. Now the only steam I’m interested in, is the steam coming from a freshly boiled kettle and the piping hot tea that comes after the boil.

My pelvis hasn’t healed, I am still struggling with walking as with any physical activity. Unfortunately, it does seem this is likely to be yet another long term problem, but we knew that was a possibility.

I use the word progress to explain how far I’ve come and it’s the reason I’m utterly disappointed when I come up against relapses like that earlier panic attack. Im devastated when Im unable to rationalise my intrusive thoughts. Yet in spite of relapses, hard days, long nights and tragically cold cups of PG tips, I’m grateful. Grateful for the support I’ve received from an amazing perinatal mental health team, from my family, and from those few close friends who selflessly and with conviction, care enough to remind me I’m doing ok.

They say it takes a village to raise a child, and there are many people whom have contributed to my progress. Thank you. And here’s hoping for another 100 days of progress to follow.

Please look but do not touch

September 26, 2021 — Leave a comment

Please look but do not touch…. Little me thanks you very much.

Late 2016 when my first born baby was not yet six months old, I had an altercation in Tesco with an older lady who, whilst my back was turned for a millisecond, approached my baby and started holding her hand. Pumping her little arm up and down, the lady in question was deeply offended when I asked her not to touch my baby.

Yes you read that right, she was offended.

She looked at me as though I had grown a second head, and shook her own in disbelief.

So why didn’t I want a stranger in the supermarket making hands at my vulnerable little girl? Well, in case it’s unclear the answer is in the question; babies are vulnerable. Our daughter was in NICU for ten days following her birth. She spent some of that time fighting to breathe on her own, this made her even more vulnerable than the average healthy baby, but the truth is ALL babies are vulnerable. Their immune systems are too immature to cope with exposure to certain viruses and germs. Germs that are passed onto them via other humans.

Fast forward 5 years and I’m having the same altercation, except this time, I’m sat having a meal with my family in a country pub. We are all engrossed in conversation, chewing mouthfuls in-between chatter, my son tucked up, snoozing in his carry cot next to the table. A snooze shade lazily thrown over the hood, covering part of his face, when along comes another lady, this time of unidentifiable age, she comes over and lifts the shade on his buggy. Instantly, I pull the pram back.

‘Oh what a beautiful baby’ she says, smiling as if approaching a stranger’s baby and rearranging their sleep space is completely normal.

I should note I’m early in my recovery from acute perinatal panic disorder and invasion of my personal space is indeed a trigger for me. However, that’s not the reason I snatched the buggy away and scowled at the strange woman infiltrating my child’s safe place. The reason, is because it’s unnecessary. It’s intrusive and honestly, I feel strongly about the fact it’s just inappropriate. This one looked at me as if I hadn’t just pulled my child away from her, and proceeded to ask me (whilst I’m in the middle of chewing a mouthful of calamari) ‘Is it, a boy or girl?’ At this point I asked her to step back, offering an explanation that since covid we preferred for strangers not to get too close. The truth is though, it has nothing to do with covid, well maybe a little, but definitely not entirely. The truth is, I don’t want to have to offer an explanation at all as to why I don’t want strangers touching my child. I don’t want the discomfort of having to worry I’m offending someone who’s all up in my kid’s grill. With the new guidelines that masks are no longer mandatory, this woman was freely breathing all over my child and I was trying to enjoy my quickly cooling food.

After realising my distaste for this kind of behaviour with our daughter, our son even has a tag on his pram – the words in bold white lettering

‘Please look, but do not touch, little me thanks you very much.’

Kaiser’s face when someone invades his personal space

I must say that I adore these tags, I love that they are a polite but clear message and usually they are enough of a deterrent, people have a little peek and move on, respecting the tag and it’s meaning. Unfortunately, it doesn’t deter the people that don’t bother to read them.

I love showing off my children, they are after all my biggest and proudest achievement. That said, maybe it’s because I’m not naturally drawn to other people’s kids myself that I find this particular act of feigning adoration and ogling, so…obtuse! I can honestly say I’ve never felt a need to sidle up to a pushchair and stick my face in to have a good gander at it’s occupant. Nor do I feel so inclined to question the parent on the baby’s gender, it amazes me that people still do this. There’s a lot more pressing things going on in the world I’m sure, but germ spreading, I think we can all agree, is a very real concern nowadays and a little more reservation and brushing up on your spatial awareness can go a long way with a baby’s parent.

Sure, comment how beautiful their baby is, everyone wants to hear that (though don’t interrupt their dinner to tell them) but be mindful that some of us are struggling mentally, some of us are struggling with our own physical health and at risk for infection, some of our babies are particularly vulnerable to germs, and all of us and our children, deserve courtesy and respect. If you wouldn’t go up to a beautiful adult and grab their hand (without asking) and tell them how cute they look, if you wouldn’t do this without feeling as if you’re imposing on their dinner, or invading their space – don’t assume it’s any different for their babies. Please.

Tags available to purchase at JillyTotsUk

54 Days postpartum

August 24, 2021 — Leave a comment
23.08.21

My daughter was on her way to bed last night when out of nowhere panic hit me full force. My son, lying in the crook of my arm, suddenly started to spit milk out from the sides of his slow flow teat, and I realised, the hand that was holding his bottle was shaking. I felt hot, from the feet up, like a flush, my brain scrambling for grounding thoughts that just couldn’t make their way to the forefront of my mind. It’s coming I thought, knowingly.

My husband comes when I call, and holds me tight. Our son, bewildered at why he’s suddenly had his bottle snatched from his mouth, our daughter, obliviously cleaning her teeth in the bathroom above our heads. Breathe Shaun tells me. Why am I like this???? I sob, trying to catch my breath. You’re not like anything, Steph. It’s a panic attack and it will pass. He reassures me, never letting me go.

It’s been 54 days since I gave birth. Our son will be 8 weeks old on Thursday 26th August.

This isn’t a birth story, because my birth story is too long, the trauma that surrounds my pregnancy will not shrink into an Instagram caption or a rushed blog post. This is a progress report.

When my son Kaiser was born, and during the days preceding, I was in a constant state of panic. I would have moments of calm, but they were fleeting and hard to grab onto. I’ve plateaued at a panic attack approximately once a week now. I know that a large part of their occurrence is directly linked to hormone sensitivity, yet that gives me no control or reassurance regarding their assault on my life.

I’m currently under the care of the most amazing perinatal mental health team, they are some of the best medical professionals I have ever come across in my entire life and I’ve met a few. Sadly this support was massively lacking during my pregnancy – but that is a story I’ve semi already told and one that would take up the duration of the rest of this blog. The point, is that I have some amazing people in my life at the moment helping me heal from acute anxiety, intrusive thoughts and various states of panic. I genuinely don’t believe without their consistent support during the postpartum period, that I would have gotten these bastard attacks down to once a week on my own.

The trouble is, I’m still very much in a state of fight or flight. During the periods of calm, I am logical. In fact I am probably calmer than I’ve ever been in my life and generally laid back (a term probably not often used to describe me as a person) but I can’t stay there, because as quick as I’m calm, a storm cloud opens up the heavens on my head and I am ready to flee the country as though I’m being chased by a hungry tiger.

However, during those moments of calm I have reflected. I have corrected, and I have made changes to my mindset. Living with chronic illnesses as I do, migraine, fibromyalgia, PMDD etc it’s easy to become all consumed by pain and suffering. The shift in my mindset has been that I don’t want to be consumed by this suffering anymore. I know I am going to suffer, bad days, sometimes bad weeks and maybe even bad months, but I don’t want it to consume me. I want change.

My community nurse said to me this week you have to do different to feel different and so I’m doing different. Every day I’m fighting tiny fires of fear. For example, I’m frightened of being alone with my kids in case I have a panic attack, but I’m staying alone with them anyway, because I know if I avoid this fear it will only grow.

I was absolutely distraught about Shaun returning to work after paternity leave, but I knew if he delayed that process I would be as scared, if not more so, when he eventually did.

I’ve been avoiding books and television that might be triggering or that contain storylines of anyone with mental illness, but very slowly I’m reintroducing those things into my life.

I’ve been too afraid to walk or drive anywhere on my own because of how much pain I’m in. What if I get stuck with the kids? And then what if whilst I’m stuck, I panic?

I’ve been too scared to enjoy days out for fear of repercussions on my body, or to go places more than half an hour away from my house in case I panic and need to flee, but slowly I am doing both.

I’m making this sound easy, and yet it’s been the hardest most hellish experience ever, doing things I’m so desperate to avoid goes against the grain. But I’m using these examples to measure my progress, because it’s so easy to feel as though I’m making absolutely no progress at all when anxiety strikes.

I want change. I want my life back. And I have to do different to feel different. I have to be open to the idea there are positive outcomes in life, because if I don’t open myself up to this possibility, I will forever be living half a life.

Perinatal anxiety and me

June 17, 2021 — 2 Comments

I’ve written a lot about this in the past, in my first pregnancy it became crippling and really took over my everyday. This time round I’ve had so many physical complications that although this doesn’t help anxiety, it’s actually been a distraction in lots of ways from worrying about all the other stuff that flits into my head when it feels like it. Sounds confusing, I know.

But whilst I’ve had so much to think about, different appointments every week and new ‘diagnoses’ popping up all over the shop I’ve not been left thinking about what will happen when the baby comes too much. Mainly because I’ve been too focused on getting him here in one piece just getting through the weeks. Now that’s coming to an imminent end, doubts are creeping in.

Can I really do this again?

What if I don’t enjoy it, what if I don’t bond with him?

We have no money and have accrued some debt trying to manage my disability this pregnancy. How will I afford a new baby?

What if all of the challenges I’ve been facing hit me after birth and I struggle with my mental health?

What if I have a break down?

What if my body doesn’t recover and I can’t physically care for these children?

What if I mess them up, and I’m just not good enough?

I shared my experience of severe SPD recently on another platform – not even going to link it because the article has been republished with false information and generally isn’t very accurate. That wasn’t the worst of it though, the comments section. WOW. Those things should be banned. One woman commented that I ‘couldn’t value my mobility or my children very much seeing as I chose to have another one even though I’d suffered in my first pregnancy and knew what was coming.’ Another said I ‘should have adopted.’ Another said my ‘husband looks depressed.’

Brutal, but senseless comments from people that know nothing about my life or what led to us having a second baby and the choices we had to make or the mental turmoil we deliberated over. But words once spoken or written can’t be undone. It hurts and it is something I’ve thought about myself often, questioned myself and agonised over in detail, even more so in recent weeks. Some of you may argue if you share online you automatically allow yourself to be subject to negativity and public scrutiny by default, but I counter that with – this is my personal journey we don’t get to question or invalidate people’s own experiences, their trauma, or their choices.

I’m not sleeping – I would say I’m not sleeping well, but I’m barely sleeping at all, having piled on an obscene amount of weight from being so immobile I seem to have developed sleep apnea and that in itself is anxiety provoking so I’m awake at night torturing myself with what ifs and worse case scenarios.

When the baby is born we have to stay in hospital for a minimum of a week, and the thought of being parted from Ciara for that long makes me emotional. The idea that my little girl won’t get to meet and hold her brother straight away, won’t get to cuddle her mum whilst she goes through the biggest change of her life, saddens me. I know and understand the reasoning, though I don’t agree that she isn’t allowed to visit. I get that it’s just a week in the grand scheme of things but I’m still sad about it. I still feel sad about lots of things. I feel sad because I haven’t enjoyed a minute of this pregnancy and at every opportunity I’ve wished it away, and now it’s coming to an end and I didn’t get to even like it.

After last week and me sharing good news that we’d hit a milestone – this week we had some conflicting information and not so great news again. My health hasn’t improved or stayed the same as we’d hope and is now deteriorating again at the final hurdle. It feels like one step forward and ten back as it has throughout this whole journey. Constantly. It’s draining. Some days I feel empowered to stay positive and I do try, but most I just feel physically and emotionally done.

I really wanted to like it this time.

I know with anxiety the whole concept is a bit ridiculous, (I don’t mean that in a critical way) what I mean is it’s a lot of worrying about things we can’t change, things we aren’t in control of, and things that haven’t even happened yet. But it’s also very real. It’s the thief of so much joy and it takes a lot of strength to overcome. Sometimes the battle is long, and other times we are better at controlling it. With parenting comes more anxiety, and it really is a never ending worry, hitting us all differently but equally at times.

I promise to always share the good and bad, and I do fear that maybe I share too much bad sometimes, but I’m just trying to keep it real during a time when I feel so up and down.

It’s like that; my life. It’s a rollercoaster of juggling my health, looking after my babies and trying to get some semblance of living a good life, enjoying it. And sometimes it really is a case of ‘well you were fine yesterday’ I know, crazy right? And today I’m losing my shit and that’s just me.

Anxiety is something that presents in strange ways. I find it really hard to communicate how anxiety effects me to people, even those who know me well. Most of them probably just think I’m a stressy, moaning old bitch (not wrong) but the reality is very different inside my head. For me, anxiety is often restlessness, sometimes accompanied by rage and anger, sometimes tears and fear. My natural instinct used to always be attack first, now it’s always defend, so I’m defensive when I feel attacked. I don’t even mean attacked by people, I also mean when I’m in a place or a situation that overwhelms me. This is another reason I’m worried about being in hospital, staying over night on a ward full of other people and noise, when these are real triggers for me. I don’t like being forced into situations, I like being solitary and if I want to have a cry or a scream I like do it in private. Being surrounded by other mums who’s babies need similar care post partum may be reassuring for many, but for me, it’s my idea of hell. I want to birth my baby, bring him home, lock all the doors and collapse into a heap so that I can process all the overriding emotions I’ve felt whilst carrying him.

Obviously hormones are factoring into my anxiety at the moment but even in general and pre pregnancy – when I feel anxious it can present in any of the three ‘fight, flight or freeze’ responses. It’s not linear. It’s not something that ever really leaves me, and there are times in my life when I’m really good at managing it, and other times when I just don’t feel like I can regain that control.

Luckily for me, I guess, is I’m good at recognising its onset so I am able to at least minimise its effects by surrounding myself with things that comfort me.

It’s all very well being under the mental health team, it’s all well and good reaching out to our GP’s but as far as I’ve found the last 9 months not a single one has listened to anything I’ve said. And whilst I hugely advocate for speaking out when you are struggling, sometimes you just don’t have the energy to force people to hear you, and sometimes you just don’t want to. So getting through in whichever way works is so important.

Pregnancy Timeline

May 6, 2021 — 6 Comments

I use writing tools a lot to make sense of feelings, I always find it gives me clarity and as I’ve had very little actual support for my mental health this pregnancy, despite being under the perinatal mental health team, covid restrictions have played a huge part and the fact I can’t attend groups because of lack of mobility. That said, I’m pretty good at managing these phases if I let myself feel them. So I decided pulling out some old tools might help, and here started the pregnancy timeline.

I’ll explain at the end why this was such an important process for me.

4 weeks – Found out I was pregnant had to reduce and abstain from medications that had been keeping me well. Very anxious, unsure and not feeling excited.

5 weeks – withdrawal symptoms, migraine, nausea and vomiting, unable to get routine appointment with GP. Lots of tears.

6 weeks – Hormonal migraines started coming every 3-4 days and increased in severity and duration. Unable to reduce Migraine meds. Mental health sketchy, had to fight to be booked in with the perinatal mental health team.

7 weeks – High temperature, still sick, time off work, negative covid test, later confirmed UTI at emergency GP appt and course of antibiotics

8 weeks – Booking appointment with midwife. high BP and protien still present in urine. More antibiotics. Discussed medication benefit vs risks.

9 weeks- low mood, tearful and anxious. Migraines still severe. Several trips to maternity in the same week to check blood pressure.

10 weeks- pelvic pain present. ? SPD. Fibro flare up. More time off work.

12 Weeks – First scan. No physical abnormalities present with baby. Heart beat strong. Consultant advised go back up migraine medication. Blood thinners prescribed

14 weeks – Pelvic pain increased referred to physio, no appointments because of covid, sent exercises in the post.

16 weeks – Pelvic pain so severe can’t bear any weight, SPD confirmed, back on crutches again. Heard heartbeat at routine appointment.

17 weeks – Unable to drive, can’t do school runs, more time off work. Mood swings, hormonal allergies and itching.

18 weeks – Felt baby move for the first time.

19 weeks – Reactivation of shingles virus causing more pain & long fibro flare up, prescribed antivirals. Permanent exhaustion.

20 weeks – Start using Avulux glasses, migraines decrease and can reduce migraine medication further. praise be. Twenty week scan delayed.

21 weeks – Gender scan. It’s a boy 💙low lying placenta picked up but not mentioned to us. Warned not everything can be seen on a scan but all good so far with baby growth. 28 week scan booked.

22 weeks – crutches becoming unmanageable with fibro – mobility scooter purchased, gaining weight fast.

23 weeks – Spotting after sex. Reduced fetal movement monitoring. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed of my immobility, weight gain rapid.

24 weeks – mobility worsening, mental health struggling as a result. Feel like a shit mum. Social services agreed for adaptations made in the home, grab rails shower seat etc

26 weeks – Glucose tolerance test – came back negative. Praise be

27 weeks – Almost every day spent in bed, midwife doesn’t reply to message for 10 days. phoned doctor in agony and tears begging for pain relief – Shaun having to lift me from bed every morning before he goes to work.

28 weeks – Growth scan confirmed placenta previa – talks of early cesarian birth. Talks of baby needing to stay in hospital post birth. Talks of NICU and breathing difficulties. Must abstain from sex. 36 week scan booked. Consultant okayed using tens machine for pain.

30 weeks – shingles flared up again, back on antivirals, sitting on ice packs, barely moving from bed. Tens machine doesn’t reach nerve pain.

31 weeks – Not long now but still feeling uncertain – not much advice about mobility after birth specifically if needing cesarian birth. Midwife appointment moved for the 3rd time no support re reducing medication further for delivery to avoid withdrawal in the baby.

In 7 months I’ve had approximately 10 good days. That’s not an exaggeration. It’s the truth. I’ve been unable to work, drive, leave the house on my own, cook a meal, take my daughter to the park, walk our dog. In 31 weeks I’ve been told by people who have absolutely nothing to do with my medical care that I’m just depressed, I’ve been told ‘at least the baby is ok’ and I’ve been told to ‘wait and see.’ And to ‘stay positive’

I’ve been hit with statistics, risks, percentages and ‘can cause’ (‘s) at every appointment.

In 31 weeks my husband has gone from being my lover to my carer. My daughter has gone from having a mum who actively participates in her life, to one who just watches. She has spent more time with her Dad and Nanny than anyone else. She has been going to school for 10 hour days because I can’t do the school runs and I can’t care for her alone in my house when her dad isn’t home. I can’t care for myself alone in my house.

I have gained weight like a duck pending foi gras.

I’ve been told not to wish pregnancy away. To enjoy it. I’ve been told that I’ll forget all of my pain once he’s here.

Despite all of this, every single day all I do is think of the baby. All I do is wait and see. All I do is think of my family. I have lived the last 31 weeks in agony and begged for the pain of labour over how I feel daily – at least then I could have some decent pain relief without worrying it’s going to cause my baby long term developmental damage.

So the reason this timeline was helpful is because, actually, despite all of the shit I have dealt with in the last 7 months, I have kept going. I have made decisions for the sake of the baby and my family that have negatively impacted me but have been important in supporting them. I have survived. I have tried, and I have kept going. I have found ways to push on.

My friend told me about a quote the other day that says

‘Everyone wants to hold the baby, but who holds the mum’

And I have needing holding. I have needed reminding, though even when I have been reminded, I have failed to remind myself.

I have sacrificed a lot in hope, in knowing it’s worth it, in putting other people before myself. I’ve been in agonising pain, I’ve cried and screamed and complained but every single day I’ve still got through it. I’ve had a great support in my close family and friends and I’ve been lucky that people have taken the time to remind me how well I’m doing despite the challenges – but I wrote this to remind myself. It might seem like as long as the baby is ok everything is fine, but that’s so far from the truth when it comes to pregnancy and health. A healthy baby might be the most important thing. But it’s definitely not the only important thing.

And while I’ve been thanking everyone for their help, I’ve been condemning myself for needing help in the first place. I’ve been drilling myself every single day about how useless I am. When actually I’m not useless. I’m not redundant in this journey, I am the journey. And when we come out the other side whatever the outcome looks like, I plan to celebrate the fact that I made it.

Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week

April 30, 2021 — 3 Comments

A topic so close to my heart and one that I always feel needs highlighting, but also one that I myself am finding particularly triggering at the moment – if you’ve been following my second pregnancy journey you’ll understand why. If you haven’t I’ll explain in short, that I am finding this pregnancy, similar to the first, in that it’s detrimental to my mental health.

Whilst this time round I don’t feel utter desperation and despair, I do feel hopeless and flat. My physical pain has hugely contributed to my mental health during pregnancy. I am so pleased to see maternal mental health reach such heights with awareness, but I feel it’s important to understand how intrinsically linked our physical and mental well-being is. Something that I feel is often overlooked for women who are pregnant and managing illness and physical challenges as well as poor mental health and low mood.

This will be my only post on maternal mental health this week, and the reason for that is stated above – I’m finding it all a bit triggering. I feel so lucky to have come so far on my journey of regaining my strength and mental stability after the birth of my daughter, but equally I feel a strong pull back to that dark time, right now.

There are a few messages that I often shout about in my need to highlight, and want to again here:

You can dislike pregnancy and still want your baby. You can resent the process and it’s toll on you and your body and still feel a deep connection to the life you’re creating.

You can feel sadness and loss at your sense of self in motherhood and still love your children.

Maternal mental health isn’t just present postnatally. It doesn’t just occur during the process of pregnancy or immediately after. It can strike at any time. It can be dark and all consuming, during phases of exhaustion and sleep deprivation, but it can also be triggered during the quagmire of everyday life. When you feel like the old you has gone missing for a while and the responsibility of caring for others takes it’s toll on you emotionally. It can occur with setbacks and regressions in your child’s life, and sometimes it will pop up at any given time it likes.

Postnatal depression isn’t always intrusive thoughts and hiding from the world. Sometimes it’s high functioning anxiety that actually powers you through the days only to hit you like a tonne of bricks when things seem to be going ok.

Depression and anxiety are not always prompted by birth trauma, or tragedy. It can manifest in many ways, sometimes presenting as irritable or snappy, other times as rage, bouts of tearfulness and friction at home. And sometimes it can creep up on you with a dull flatness, you may not even realise you feel depressed at all until the things you used to look forward to in life start to lose their appeal. The things that used to excite you suddenly don’t anymore and everything just feels a bit grey.

When I was pregnant with my daughter six years ago there was no such thing in my area as a perinatal mental health team. It shows great progress that such teams are now in place across the UK helping women come to terms with difficult emotions during and after pregnancy. It has definitely provided me with some reassurance when going through the process again. The only thing I will say that I feel to still be somewhat lacking and this doesn’t just refer to perinatal mental health but mental health in general, is there still isn’t enough preventative measures in place to support people who have a history of depression but aren’t currently depressed.

When I found out I was pregnant this time my anxiety was in full force but when referred to talking therapies I was deemed to score low on the mood charts and therefore not particularly high risk or in need of additional support. Unfortunately this is all too common when seeking support for mental health. I believe I know myself best and after having come through many bouts of poor mental health I feel I’m the best judge of character to preempt spirals. It’s frustrating when you know you could go either way but the support is only in great supply when you are close to crisis.

I’ve found great support this time in grassroots organisations such as Bluebell Care probably even more so than I have in my midwifery team.

Maternal mental health has been highlighted even more in the last year because of the pandemic and if anything good was to come from that it would be that we’re shining a light on mother’s struggling.

There’s a long way left to go and it’s not easy to be candid on such topics – but one thing I do know is that however you’re feeling, you’re not alone. It takes a great strength to open up about parenting struggles because societal judgement is still placed so heavily on a mother. Speaking up is the first step, becoming aware is the next one.

For more information on maternal mental health support please visit Maternal Mental Health Alliance