I don't really want to, but I can't avoid it any more.
One of my lovely therapist's "strategies" for avoiding/coping with PND version two is to produce what I have affectionately termed a 'mad list'.
The idea is that I write down, so it's there for all to see, a list of symptoms and behaviours that characterised PND-me last time. Then, if anyone spots more than one or two of them recurring, they can have a little word.
Of course, that last bit is probably easier said than done. And to be honest, dear readers, if you do spot them, it's probably best if you have a little word with Mark who has been armed with some key words and phrases to use in discussing the situation with me. Just so you know, "Everyone thinks you've gone mad again," is not one of them!
On the subject of honesty, I should (oops, there go those shoulds again!) have done this list weeks ago. Probably months ago. But I just couldn't face it. I don't want to relive those times.
I had a bit of a reminder the other day at yoga - the well-meaning teacher was discussing those first days with a newborn and pointing out that it isn't always a bed of roses. Her openness wasn't well-received by everyone in the group but it such struck a chord with me that it all came flooding back - especially when she revealed she didn't feel like herself until her son was three.
Oops - now I'm procrastinating again. I did warn you I didn't want to do this...
But I have to for my sake, and for Mark's and of course for Miss T's.
So here goes....your guide to mentalness, by me!
1) Reluctance to be alone with the baby
2) Avoiding interaction with the baby
3) Auditory hallucinations
4) Not getting out of bed
5) Excessive crying
6) Obsession with perfection in other areas, eg housework
7) Obsession with being seen as superwoman, ie not failing at anything
8) The thoughts...I don't know how else to describe them. Imagining bad things happening...
9) Reliance on others for activities, ie packed diary of social events and feeling of disaster if any are cancelled
10) Denial of change in circumstances, ie "I'm still me,this baby isn't relevant...", annoyance with people's insistence on discussing it...
I could go on, but I think I've covered most of it. It's not pleasant reading, is it? Not for me, anyway.
I so want things to be different this time, but I'm wary of that becoming an obsession...but maybe I'm overthinking that...
Anyway, it's late, I'm tired and I'm still getting used to the realities of maternity leave, ie full-time motherhood with no escape. I'm enjoying most of it, but I also know this is not an option for me permanently. Give me a busy newsroom any day!
Showing posts with label having another baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label having another baby. Show all posts
Monday, 1 November 2010
Thursday, 9 September 2010
On the edge of a cliff....
If you were standing on a cliff, and knew there were paramedics and rescue crews at the bottom, would you jump?
That's kind of how I feel at the moment. Except I'm in freefall and now I feel like I want to change my mind.
Shall I start at the beginning? You've certainly missed quite a lot, dear readers (if I have any left), in the months since I last updated this blog. But I have a feeling updates will be coming more often for the next few months...
So, I've jumped off the cliff. Metaphorically, of course. I hinted at it in my last post, and the one before that, if you can think (or scroll) back that far. After much discussion and soul-searching, lovely Mark and I decided to try for another baby. Or rather, to stop not trying. So it shouldn't have been a surprise when the inevitable happened, but somehow it was.
After an initial freak-out, I thought I was doing okay with things. I saw my lovely therapist a few times, we discussed strategies and options and I felt in control of things.
But now, with less than three months to go until my life - and Miss T's life - changes completely, I'm less sure.
Of course, things may be different, but in reality it's highly likely that this awful blackness will descend again, only this time Miss T could end up swept up in it too.
Of course, I already know my lovely therapist and I don't have to fight to get treatment - in fact, it's written in red pen all over my notes - but I'll still have to hit the bottom of the cliff before I can start to put myself back together. And that's a terrifying prospect.
If I'm totally honest, (which surely I have to be on here, or what's the point of having this outlet?) I can already recognise some of those old feelings creeping back in. Wanting to avoid the world and hide away, to be anywhere but here, to let someone else deal with everything.
I know lots of people feel like this, but it's so familiar to me that I can't believe it's just a bad week.
I am due another paid-for therapy session, and I know that will help, but I also know that the overwhelming urge I've had to get these words out here is not a good sign. Hence my fear that I'm in freefall, and the prospect of hitting the bottom is not an enticing one.
I wanted things to be so different this time. In fact, (total honesty again) my first thought on seeing the positive pregnancy test result was that I could get things right this time. Of course, I recognise that's not a healthy reaction and a session with the lovely therapist soon sorted that out. But I still wanted it to be different.
It is, in some ways. Last time, I can now see that I was in a sort of denial for a long time before Miss T was born, and I hated any mention of the pregnancy or my life as a mum.
This time, I'm not in denial at all. But I'm terrified. Because I know how bad it can be, and I know how hard it is to make it better.
I'm terrified of what the costs of that decision Mark and I made back at the start of the year will be. Will it be our relationship? My relationship with Miss T? Or - that dreaded honesty again - my job? After all, according to the books I've read, mothers with two children often end up going mad and having to give up work. I'm halfway there already!
I know I can survive - I've done it once before. But at the moment, I do wish I hadn't jumped off without wrapping myself in the softest cotton wool first. Or looking for another way down.
That's kind of how I feel at the moment. Except I'm in freefall and now I feel like I want to change my mind.
Shall I start at the beginning? You've certainly missed quite a lot, dear readers (if I have any left), in the months since I last updated this blog. But I have a feeling updates will be coming more often for the next few months...
So, I've jumped off the cliff. Metaphorically, of course. I hinted at it in my last post, and the one before that, if you can think (or scroll) back that far. After much discussion and soul-searching, lovely Mark and I decided to try for another baby. Or rather, to stop not trying. So it shouldn't have been a surprise when the inevitable happened, but somehow it was.
After an initial freak-out, I thought I was doing okay with things. I saw my lovely therapist a few times, we discussed strategies and options and I felt in control of things.
But now, with less than three months to go until my life - and Miss T's life - changes completely, I'm less sure.
Of course, things may be different, but in reality it's highly likely that this awful blackness will descend again, only this time Miss T could end up swept up in it too.
Of course, I already know my lovely therapist and I don't have to fight to get treatment - in fact, it's written in red pen all over my notes - but I'll still have to hit the bottom of the cliff before I can start to put myself back together. And that's a terrifying prospect.
If I'm totally honest, (which surely I have to be on here, or what's the point of having this outlet?) I can already recognise some of those old feelings creeping back in. Wanting to avoid the world and hide away, to be anywhere but here, to let someone else deal with everything.
I know lots of people feel like this, but it's so familiar to me that I can't believe it's just a bad week.
I am due another paid-for therapy session, and I know that will help, but I also know that the overwhelming urge I've had to get these words out here is not a good sign. Hence my fear that I'm in freefall, and the prospect of hitting the bottom is not an enticing one.
I wanted things to be so different this time. In fact, (total honesty again) my first thought on seeing the positive pregnancy test result was that I could get things right this time. Of course, I recognise that's not a healthy reaction and a session with the lovely therapist soon sorted that out. But I still wanted it to be different.
It is, in some ways. Last time, I can now see that I was in a sort of denial for a long time before Miss T was born, and I hated any mention of the pregnancy or my life as a mum.
This time, I'm not in denial at all. But I'm terrified. Because I know how bad it can be, and I know how hard it is to make it better.
I'm terrified of what the costs of that decision Mark and I made back at the start of the year will be. Will it be our relationship? My relationship with Miss T? Or - that dreaded honesty again - my job? After all, according to the books I've read, mothers with two children often end up going mad and having to give up work. I'm halfway there already!
I know I can survive - I've done it once before. But at the moment, I do wish I hadn't jumped off without wrapping myself in the softest cotton wool first. Or looking for another way down.
Tuesday, 30 December 2008
Terrible twos - or two's company?
So as I mentioned, Miss T has reached that milestone of her second birthday.
And so have we, relatively unscathed. At the moment, at least...
And as well as a turning point in her life, the seemingly random date of December 24, 2008, was earmarked as the time to discuss the next steps in our lives.
Namely, the question of more children.
Life being what it is, we haven't actually had that conversation yet but we both know it's waiting to be had.
So in a bid to be more prepared I thought I would attempt to sort out some of my thoughts - I'm always up for a challenge...
I've said before that we've always seen ourselves as a family of four. And that doesn't include any furry additions!
So the next step for us would of course be another baby.
But is our blueprint for our lives a good enough reason for such an upheaval?
Why do people have more children? Would it be for Miss T, for us, or something else? And is it fair to her, or us?
Some of my friends who are on their second are coming out of those early months of chaos and seem to be reaping the benefits - their children can entertain each other and provide company for each other.
But trips out for coffee and cake are becoming more of a rarity!
It is perhaps testimony to how well they have managed that I have been able to think about having my fantastic contraceptive implant removed without breaking into a cold sweat. But of course that isn't the same as thinking about being the parent of two...
And I can see that my work situation at the moment, which is leaning towards the freelance/self-employed route, is very flexible and so perhaps ideal for adding to our family.
But at the same time the thought of the reality of another baby is frankly terrifying.
If I am completely honest, I am not sure our relationship would survive another bout of PND with the added pressure of a pre-schooler to look after. Or that I would.
Of course, there is no guarantee that it would all happen again. And of course there would be a support network in place already.
So is it fair to deprive Miss t of a sibling, and Mark of another child because I'm scared of something that may not even happen?
I don't know yet. I'll let you know if I work it out!
And so have we, relatively unscathed. At the moment, at least...
And as well as a turning point in her life, the seemingly random date of December 24, 2008, was earmarked as the time to discuss the next steps in our lives.
Namely, the question of more children.
Life being what it is, we haven't actually had that conversation yet but we both know it's waiting to be had.
So in a bid to be more prepared I thought I would attempt to sort out some of my thoughts - I'm always up for a challenge...
I've said before that we've always seen ourselves as a family of four. And that doesn't include any furry additions!
So the next step for us would of course be another baby.
But is our blueprint for our lives a good enough reason for such an upheaval?
Why do people have more children? Would it be for Miss T, for us, or something else? And is it fair to her, or us?
Some of my friends who are on their second are coming out of those early months of chaos and seem to be reaping the benefits - their children can entertain each other and provide company for each other.
But trips out for coffee and cake are becoming more of a rarity!
It is perhaps testimony to how well they have managed that I have been able to think about having my fantastic contraceptive implant removed without breaking into a cold sweat. But of course that isn't the same as thinking about being the parent of two...
And I can see that my work situation at the moment, which is leaning towards the freelance/self-employed route, is very flexible and so perhaps ideal for adding to our family.
But at the same time the thought of the reality of another baby is frankly terrifying.
If I am completely honest, I am not sure our relationship would survive another bout of PND with the added pressure of a pre-schooler to look after. Or that I would.
Of course, there is no guarantee that it would all happen again. And of course there would be a support network in place already.
So is it fair to deprive Miss t of a sibling, and Mark of another child because I'm scared of something that may not even happen?
I don't know yet. I'll let you know if I work it out!
Monday, 18 August 2008
A new day, a new challenge.
Today I learnt that another of my baby friends is leaving the single child life behind and will soon be a mother of two.
And while I'm pleased for her I'm sad for me.
I know what I said yesterday - hell, I only managed to post it about five minutes ago! - and that's all still true but it doesn't help the way I feel.
I feel left behind.
I feel like the great train of life is chugging along and I'm stuck on a platform somewhere.
I feel jealous that pretty much everyone else is managing to live their life the way they planned.
I feel guilty that Tash is missing out on a sibling when everyone else is getting one.
I feel bad for Mark who I know would have another baby tomorrow if I just gave the go ahead (and the biological stuff didn't take a little longer!)
But hey! I'm doing great. I'm off medication, out of therapy and surviving.
And even though Mark kindly pointed out to me that as of yesterday I'm closer to 30 than I am 29 we still have plenty of time for more children.
And maybe when we have our second everyone else will be on their third and we can still go through it all together.
And I managed to get through today with no tearful moments!
And while I'm pleased for her I'm sad for me.
I know what I said yesterday - hell, I only managed to post it about five minutes ago! - and that's all still true but it doesn't help the way I feel.
I feel left behind.
I feel like the great train of life is chugging along and I'm stuck on a platform somewhere.
I feel jealous that pretty much everyone else is managing to live their life the way they planned.
I feel guilty that Tash is missing out on a sibling when everyone else is getting one.
I feel bad for Mark who I know would have another baby tomorrow if I just gave the go ahead (and the biological stuff didn't take a little longer!)
But hey! I'm doing great. I'm off medication, out of therapy and surviving.
And even though Mark kindly pointed out to me that as of yesterday I'm closer to 30 than I am 29 we still have plenty of time for more children.
And maybe when we have our second everyone else will be on their third and we can still go through it all together.
And I managed to get through today with no tearful moments!
technological problems and traumas
Fear not, I have not disappeared into the ether. I tried to post over the weekend but the stupid computer was having none of it.
Luckily, after the second time I managed to save it and have reproduced it below.
And today's post will follow, with a bit of a change of tone. Such is the life of Liz at the moment...
Grrrr! I just typed out another fantastic insightful post and then my computer died and lost it all!
But first of all, I hope you are all impressed with my latest technological milestone - the post below is from my phone! How cool is that?! Probably not very to all you geeks out there but it is for me...
Anyway, as I was saying before the computer let me down...this weekend has been full of milestones - Miss Tash came with us to buy her first big girl duvet and pillow and picked out the pinkest bedding set she could find.
It's quite wierd to see her in her cot with them - she's no longer a baby and I'm no longer in those hellish early days, and can look forward to the challenges and fun that her childhood will bring.
I'm also now drug free and no longer in therapy, so I guess I'm as sane as I can hope to be at the moment.
We had a really good session yesterday, with talk of how far we'd come, as well as talk of the future.
The statistic that terrifies me at the moment is that after having PND once there's a 50 per cent chance of having it again. That's a big risk to take if we decide to expand our family (with two-legged children rather than four-legged furry ones!).
At the moment I just can't contemplate that, for all sorts of reasons. I'm so not ready, for one. And I'm not ready to put Tash through something that could jeopardise our fledgling relationship - having a sibling would be stressful enough for her, without risking losing mummy to a big black hole as well.
If I'm honest, I'm not prepared to risk losing myself to that hole either. I've worked so hard to climb out of it and I feel like I need to get further away from the abyss before starting any dangerous manoeuvres. That's a really confused metaphor but I hope you understand what I mean.
Of course, that's not to say that we'll never have another child. I sincerely hope that in another year or so, when Tash is old enough for us to discuss her frustrations and attempt an explanation of how I am feeling, we might be brave enough to try.
But for now, I plan to work on enjoying the child I have before she's all grown up and it's passed me by.
Luckily, after the second time I managed to save it and have reproduced it below.
And today's post will follow, with a bit of a change of tone. Such is the life of Liz at the moment...
Grrrr! I just typed out another fantastic insightful post and then my computer died and lost it all!
But first of all, I hope you are all impressed with my latest technological milestone - the post below is from my phone! How cool is that?! Probably not very to all you geeks out there but it is for me...
Anyway, as I was saying before the computer let me down...this weekend has been full of milestones - Miss Tash came with us to buy her first big girl duvet and pillow and picked out the pinkest bedding set she could find.
It's quite wierd to see her in her cot with them - she's no longer a baby and I'm no longer in those hellish early days, and can look forward to the challenges and fun that her childhood will bring.
I'm also now drug free and no longer in therapy, so I guess I'm as sane as I can hope to be at the moment.
We had a really good session yesterday, with talk of how far we'd come, as well as talk of the future.
The statistic that terrifies me at the moment is that after having PND once there's a 50 per cent chance of having it again. That's a big risk to take if we decide to expand our family (with two-legged children rather than four-legged furry ones!).
At the moment I just can't contemplate that, for all sorts of reasons. I'm so not ready, for one. And I'm not ready to put Tash through something that could jeopardise our fledgling relationship - having a sibling would be stressful enough for her, without risking losing mummy to a big black hole as well.
If I'm honest, I'm not prepared to risk losing myself to that hole either. I've worked so hard to climb out of it and I feel like I need to get further away from the abyss before starting any dangerous manoeuvres. That's a really confused metaphor but I hope you understand what I mean.
Of course, that's not to say that we'll never have another child. I sincerely hope that in another year or so, when Tash is old enough for us to discuss her frustrations and attempt an explanation of how I am feeling, we might be brave enough to try.
But for now, I plan to work on enjoying the child I have before she's all grown up and it's passed me by.
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