I recently came across Whitney from That Awkward Conversation. The awkward conversations around depression and anxiety. I am so pleased Whitney shared my experience of perinatal anxiety and depression with both Leo and Lily. Here it is below:
I am proud to be talking about my journey through anxiety and postnatal depression. It was an incredibly challenging time having experienced it with both of my children, but, after having gone through it, I am now a better, healthier and happier person and for that, I am grateful. I hope that by sharing my story it will give hope to parents facing the same challenges that, even in the darkest days, recovery is possible.
I clearly remember the home visit by my Maternal Child and Health Nurse, Katie, three days after coming home from hospital. I was instantly drawn to her warm smile and knowing eyes. Katie sat next to me on the couch as I attempted to breastfeed. She helped me relax, which helped me attach Leo, and she gave me some great tips. Before long, we began chatting about how my husband Hugh and I had set up Leo’s room, and about my labour and the birth.
At the time, I was quite a private person, yet Katie made me feel comfortable enough to also share that my eldest sister Mary, has bipolar disorder, and that my elder brother Tony, suicided at the age of 24, after a long battle with schizophrenia.
She gave me a big cuddle and said she would stick a PANDA sticker next to my name in my son’s little green Health and Development Record book. This would remind her to take extra care of me at my MCH visits, as given my family history; I was predisposed to postnatal depression. I shrugged it off, little knowing how right she would be.
Not long after, my mental state started to go downhill. I was exhausted, yet had trouble sleeping. “Sleep when baby sleeps” was just not happening. I was kept awake by night sweats and terrible racing thoughts.
“Could something fall into my baby’s bassinet and suffocate him?”, “Maybe his nappy is on too tight and could cut off his circulation”, “Maybe someone could break in to the house and kidnap him”, “Maybe he’s too hot, maybe he’s too cold”.
These thoughts would play over and over in my mind.
I had a constant sick feeling, which put me off eating, and I lost a lot of weight. I was irritable and angry, snapping at the smallest things. I felt hopeless and dead inside. I began to isolate myself from family and friends. I would often close all the blinds, after my husband left for work.
As my mental state deteriorated, I had trouble bonding with Leo. Some days I couldn’t even bear to look at him. I felt like he was not my son. Other days I would just wish that someone would take my son away from me, and that I’d be rid of all my internal pain.
Yet I constantly worried about him. I wouldn’t let anyone outside my immediate family touch or hold him, and I’d check his temperature almost every hour. I became so overwhelmed and exhausted that I started to plan my escape. I just wanted it to all end.
My husband and the rest of my family noticed things didn’t seem right, and urged me to speak to my Maternal Child Health Nurse or my GP. Yet I was too afraid that I would lose my son. That my horrid thoughts would send me to a mental ward – or worse yet, prison – and that I’d never see my son again. I’d have panic attacks, or go silent as my thoughts took over. My sister would call me daily and calm me down. I felt comforted knowing she was on the line. My mum lived next door, and most days would come and just sit with me. I was afraid to be alone with my thoughts.
My husband would secretly call my friends and ask them to visit. They’d bring me lunch, make me tea, and even helped me start my son on solids. They knew something wasn’t right, but I think they were too afraid to say something that might “tip me over the edge”.
Then one day, I explicitly told mum that I was contemplating suicide. She knew I was serious, and she was determined not to lose another child that way. She immediately phoned my GP, and luckily I got in to see her that day. Yet I was still afraid that the GP would have me locked up, and my son taken from me. So, I went under the guise of him being unwell.
Luckily, my GP saw through this. She asked my mum to leave the room and began asking me questions. I finally broke down and told her everything. She wrote me out a Mental Health Care Plan, a script for antidepressants and a referral to a psychiatrist.
When the psychiatrist diagnosed me with Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Postnatal Depression, things started to get better. I was put on medication to help with my anxiety. For the first two weeks it exacerbated my suicidal thoughts, which is a common side effect. My mum monitored me while my husband was at work, and then it started to really help.
I also saw a psychologist at Tweddle Child and Family Health, with support under the Mental Health Care Plan. At first, I resisted this treatment. I was still too afraid to speak up about my horrid thoughts.
But as I began to trust the psychologist, I realised the therapy was helping me work through my issues, including my brother’s death. I was very lucky that my husband came with me to my initial visits, and still loved me in spite of the person I had become.
I know now that this treatment played an important role in my recovery – not to mention the love and support of my GP, my family and close friends. I only wish that I had spoken up sooner.
I really want to get the message across to anyone who is struggling: please get help as quickly as possible, so that recovery is not delayed.
I can’t tell you the exact day that things started to shift for me, but, I can tell you what I started to notice. For one, I began opening the blinds, one by one. I felt the fog lift, and I began socialising and making friends with new mums in my area.
Most importantly, I saw my beautiful baby boy wanting his mummy so much. I realised how precious he is to me, and I felt an overwhelming sense of love and happiness that I longed for, and had so missed.
Fast forward four years and I felt I had recovered enough to want another baby. I was still having therapy but ceased my medication. The first four months after Lily’s birth was a very different experience to Leo, I felt bonded to her, I was getting out of the house, I was resting and I was practising self care.
However, Lily was never a good sleeper and after about 4 months, it got to a point that she was up every hour and I was getting no sleep. I was a zombie. I began to have those feelings that I had when I had PND with Leo and I started to worry that I might have PND again. Some of the symptoms I experienced were, heightened anxiety, not showering, scary thoughts, I lost my appetite, feeling flat, inability to laugh at things I used to find funny, feeling very panicky, dreading the day, not able to experience any joy, unable to sleep.
I knew I did not want to get as unwell as I had with Leo, and, I remembered that the earlier I sought help, the quicker the recovery. So, I made an appointment to visit my GP. The first time I had PND I resisted going to GP as I feared I would lose my son. This time I had learnt that that is not the case, in fact it is encouraged that mum and bub stay together. At the GP, I filled out a questionnaire which came back high and immediately commenced medication to help with my symptoms.
I also increased my appointments with my psychologist, checked in with my GP weekly and began seeing a psychiatrist to manage my medication. I would always call someone I trusted and felt safe with and tell them I was struggling – I would say “I am feeling wobbly today” and they would just listen to my struggles. Family and friends would come over for lunch or a cup of tea, we would walk to the park, get a coffee, play in the park with both Leo and Lily, read stories together and put on silly music to dance with them in the loungeroom.
I also attended a support program run by the local council which was organised by MCHN. I increased my appointments with MCHN – so rather than meet at every milestone, I would meet with them in between. I would also read stories by community champions on PANDA’s website about their journey through PND. It didn’t take too long before I was feeling my self again and, not to mention with the help of a sleep and settling consultant who came to our house to help Lily sleep better was lifechanging.
In 2015, after recovering from perinatal anxiety and depression, and, still managing my anxiety I decided to become a PANDA volunteer. I hope to share my message far and wide that recovery from perinatal mental illness is possible. I also have my own blog Smiling after PND, journaling my experience as a mother who has recovered from PND and to instil hope that even in the darkest day, recovery is possible. I love being a mum and I am so thankful for my children who gave me the gift of being their mother. I am also so thankful for my experience as it has given me a purpose to give back to the community. I know my journey is ongoing, however, with this new knowledge and experience, I feel better equipped to face any challenge that is ahead of me.
If you or someone you know is struggling, please call PANDA on 1300 276 306.
Love and hugs Josie xx
