Another premature update, but hey, at least it's an update!
I've survived another week. Believe me, that's an achievement in itself.
Other achievements? Both kids are still alive, have been regularly fed and dressed in relatively clean clothes.
I got everyone out of the house on time last week for the school run, and was only late picking Miss T up once.
We've had some days without tears (from me, at least - I don't think either child has yet managed that milestone...) and we've had some fun times.
Less positive aspects? I've lost control a few times and really shouted at Tasha, I've had times when baby D and I have been out and I just haven't wanted to go home, and there was one memorable moment when Natasha ended up fetching me tissues and giving me hugs when it all got too much. That's not how I want her life to be.
I've also seen my lovely therapist who put some things in perspective. After seeing her I did feel a lot more positive - the general conclusion was that I'm not yet mad, but on the cusp of it. However she feels that with the right intervention we may yet be able to avoid the dark side.
She insists that it's good to show extremes of emotion to Miss T and I can see her point, which is that it is part of life, but it's hard for me to accept that. It's just not the way I'm used to.
So the edge of the cliff is starting to look a bit further away - on some days at least.
I continue to be surprised by how amazing some people can be, and how oblivious others are. I've tried to ask for help - and could not have predicted those who responded - but maybe I wasn't clear enough. I do know that I need it. Those days where I can get out of the house and meet people are so much easier to bear than the ones where I'm home and the combination of four walls and two children is almost too much.
Having said that, today I was alone with both of them all afternoon and we all just about survived. The only meltdown was over dinner which is nothing unusual at the moment and I managed not to react. It was a close-run thing but I managed it.
Tomorrow we also have no plans and I won't pretend that's not scary. I'm hoping some of my requests for assistance will pay off but if not I'll do my best and that will have to do. I have no more to give.
Monday, 10 January 2011
Monday, 3 January 2011
Four weeks...
Tomrrow is the four week milestone, but the laptop is powered up today so it seemed as good a time as any.
I'm not sure what kind of post this will be, so apologies in advance. I've started writing it in my head several times over the last few days and it changes depending on what sort of day it's been. I've decided just to let my fingers do their thing and see what comes out.
So there have been more bad days. Some good ones too but they can have bad moments as well. On a really bad day it feels like I'm losing my mind; like it's disappearing piece by piece over the edge into the abyss. And if I peer over after it what I see is so terrifying I can't even think about trying to retrieve it.
On a normal bad day, it feels like everything is just too much effort. Even getting off the sofa.
But on a good day, when one child is asleep and I can spend quality time with the other one, I'm not sure what the drama is about.
Mark is back at work next week - tomorrow in fact - so that will present a whole new challenge. I have a lot lined up to keep us busy with lovely friends playing their part with play dates and evenings in.
I do still feel disappointed in others who have been less helpful. Or less present. Or who seem to be able to make the effort for others but not me. Perhaps it's the old mental illness stigma, perhaps it's that it's just more fun to visit someone more cheerful and less mad. Or perhaps I'm just paranoid.
It has been suggested that I ask for help from them, and others, and see what happens. I'm tempted to do so as a social experiment if nothing else - watch this space.
Baby d is stirring so my time here is up for now. But I'll leave with an important (to me at least!) reminder. I know most of you lovely readers are here because you care or because you are interested in the PND experience. But I also know (thanks to Google analytics!) that there are some here for other reasons.
I don't care if this is emailed around the office as a good laugh ("see what that mad cow is up to now"). I started this blog all those years ago with the declaration that I was not ashamed. And it's still true. I may be on the road to happy pill heaven again but I'm not ashamed of it. So I will continue to be honest here for the sake of those who need help staying strong - and for myself.
I'm not sure what kind of post this will be, so apologies in advance. I've started writing it in my head several times over the last few days and it changes depending on what sort of day it's been. I've decided just to let my fingers do their thing and see what comes out.
So there have been more bad days. Some good ones too but they can have bad moments as well. On a really bad day it feels like I'm losing my mind; like it's disappearing piece by piece over the edge into the abyss. And if I peer over after it what I see is so terrifying I can't even think about trying to retrieve it.
On a normal bad day, it feels like everything is just too much effort. Even getting off the sofa.
But on a good day, when one child is asleep and I can spend quality time with the other one, I'm not sure what the drama is about.
Mark is back at work next week - tomorrow in fact - so that will present a whole new challenge. I have a lot lined up to keep us busy with lovely friends playing their part with play dates and evenings in.
I do still feel disappointed in others who have been less helpful. Or less present. Or who seem to be able to make the effort for others but not me. Perhaps it's the old mental illness stigma, perhaps it's that it's just more fun to visit someone more cheerful and less mad. Or perhaps I'm just paranoid.
It has been suggested that I ask for help from them, and others, and see what happens. I'm tempted to do so as a social experiment if nothing else - watch this space.
Baby d is stirring so my time here is up for now. But I'll leave with an important (to me at least!) reminder. I know most of you lovely readers are here because you care or because you are interested in the PND experience. But I also know (thanks to Google analytics!) that there are some here for other reasons.
I don't care if this is emailed around the office as a good laugh ("see what that mad cow is up to now"). I started this blog all those years ago with the declaration that I was not ashamed. And it's still true. I may be on the road to happy pill heaven again but I'm not ashamed of it. So I will continue to be honest here for the sake of those who need help staying strong - and for myself.
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
Three weeks...
Baby D is three weeks old today. And what a three weeks it has been.
In some ways it feels like he has been here forever. But in other ways I'm reminded how new he is and how little and vulnerable.
For obvious reasons, I don't have time to write much. But there are some things I need to get out. Lots of things, in fact, but some of them will have to wait.
For now, a quick update - for me, as much as for you, dear readers.
All started very promisingly, with no sign of the dreaded blackness, and I was optimistic we had been spared.
I'm not so sure now, but equally I'm trying not to 'catastrophise', as my lovely therapist says, and to take things one day at a time. Some days are bad, some days are good.
Today was good. Yesterday was bad. But the stresses of Christmas don't help and I wonder if when normality resumes things will look sunnier. At least today I can see myself waiting until then - yesterday that felt like a yawning chasm of bleakness.
I haven't dared check my 'mad list' from a few posts ago. I know I would tick some of the boxes. I spent half an hour in the shower on Boxing Day just because I couldn't face getting out and facing the tantruming four-year-old and demanding newborn waiting for me when I did.
That doesn't sound too bad until I add that a good portion of that time was spent crying. Then it looks like another tick on that dreaded list.
In the interests of honesty, and for myself, I must record my disappointment at the readiness of the army I hoped I had amassed. Some people have been fantastic. Others I have not yet heard from. I've been surprised at the names in both camps. But this is a long haul, and Christmas is a more important distraction for many than the madness of a friend. I live in hope things on that front will improve.
Of course, if I asked for help I'm sure it would come, but I'm finding that quite hard to do. But I don't need anything practical - just a feeling of not being abandoned would be enough.
Equally, there are some people with whom I feel like I am under a microscope, being scrutinised for failings or mentalness. Do I see another tick on that list?! I'm sure they are trying to help but I feel under pressure to be fine so that's the answer I give in those frequent interviews with them. And they do feel like interviews - especially those with the medical professionals who see "Previous PND" in red all over my notes. They get through their other questions, then it's always the same routine. Pen down, head on one side, and out it comes..."And how are YOU feeling?"
This is all a bit of a waffle and baby D is stirring - plus I have a million other things to do, so I will leave this self-indulgent waffle here.
For those of you who are now concerned, I will contact my therapist once the Christmas chaos is over and get her take on things. I have to see my GP too for other issues so if nothing has changed will discuss this there.
I know what to do. I've been here before. I just didn't want to be back here again. Fingers crossed this is still a two-way street.
In some ways it feels like he has been here forever. But in other ways I'm reminded how new he is and how little and vulnerable.
For obvious reasons, I don't have time to write much. But there are some things I need to get out. Lots of things, in fact, but some of them will have to wait.
For now, a quick update - for me, as much as for you, dear readers.
All started very promisingly, with no sign of the dreaded blackness, and I was optimistic we had been spared.
I'm not so sure now, but equally I'm trying not to 'catastrophise', as my lovely therapist says, and to take things one day at a time. Some days are bad, some days are good.
Today was good. Yesterday was bad. But the stresses of Christmas don't help and I wonder if when normality resumes things will look sunnier. At least today I can see myself waiting until then - yesterday that felt like a yawning chasm of bleakness.
I haven't dared check my 'mad list' from a few posts ago. I know I would tick some of the boxes. I spent half an hour in the shower on Boxing Day just because I couldn't face getting out and facing the tantruming four-year-old and demanding newborn waiting for me when I did.
That doesn't sound too bad until I add that a good portion of that time was spent crying. Then it looks like another tick on that dreaded list.
In the interests of honesty, and for myself, I must record my disappointment at the readiness of the army I hoped I had amassed. Some people have been fantastic. Others I have not yet heard from. I've been surprised at the names in both camps. But this is a long haul, and Christmas is a more important distraction for many than the madness of a friend. I live in hope things on that front will improve.
Of course, if I asked for help I'm sure it would come, but I'm finding that quite hard to do. But I don't need anything practical - just a feeling of not being abandoned would be enough.
Equally, there are some people with whom I feel like I am under a microscope, being scrutinised for failings or mentalness. Do I see another tick on that list?! I'm sure they are trying to help but I feel under pressure to be fine so that's the answer I give in those frequent interviews with them. And they do feel like interviews - especially those with the medical professionals who see "Previous PND" in red all over my notes. They get through their other questions, then it's always the same routine. Pen down, head on one side, and out it comes..."And how are YOU feeling?"
This is all a bit of a waffle and baby D is stirring - plus I have a million other things to do, so I will leave this self-indulgent waffle here.
For those of you who are now concerned, I will contact my therapist once the Christmas chaos is over and get her take on things. I have to see my GP too for other issues so if nothing has changed will discuss this there.
I know what to do. I've been here before. I just didn't want to be back here again. Fingers crossed this is still a two-way street.
Monday, 22 November 2010
I wasn't going to do this...
...but what's the point of having this if I don't use it when I need to?
After all, I've seen the results when things are glossed over or ignored when in fact they need to be aired.
So I've been feeling pretty well prepared for baby number two and dealing with everything that involves.
That's not some fluke, in case anyone is in any doubt - it's the result of a lot of hard work with my lovely therapist, with Mark and with myself. Not always pleasant, but necessary to give us the best start possible as a family of four.
That is my focus - our family, and preserving and developing it. Mark and I are stronger than we have ever been and we feel ready to tackle PND again if we need to.
Others have been fantastic too, and I feel confident there is a small army waiting in the wings if and when we need them.
But sadly, there appear to be a few members on an opposing army. People who have perhaps forgotten - or been too wrapped up in themselves to realise - how close to the edge we came last time because of what was triggered by Miss T's arrival. All kinds of edges, in fact.
People who perhaps haven't noticed what we've already dealt with this time.
I doubt those people will ever read this. But I need to say it anyway.
My family is a unit. There are four of us. Anyone who has an issue with one will have to deal with all of us. And I'm not afraid to withdraw our family unit - as a whole - from anyone who is not a positive influence.
And if that happens, that will be your loss, not mine.
After all, I've seen the results when things are glossed over or ignored when in fact they need to be aired.
So I've been feeling pretty well prepared for baby number two and dealing with everything that involves.
That's not some fluke, in case anyone is in any doubt - it's the result of a lot of hard work with my lovely therapist, with Mark and with myself. Not always pleasant, but necessary to give us the best start possible as a family of four.
That is my focus - our family, and preserving and developing it. Mark and I are stronger than we have ever been and we feel ready to tackle PND again if we need to.
Others have been fantastic too, and I feel confident there is a small army waiting in the wings if and when we need them.
But sadly, there appear to be a few members on an opposing army. People who have perhaps forgotten - or been too wrapped up in themselves to realise - how close to the edge we came last time because of what was triggered by Miss T's arrival. All kinds of edges, in fact.
People who perhaps haven't noticed what we've already dealt with this time.
I doubt those people will ever read this. But I need to say it anyway.
My family is a unit. There are four of us. Anyone who has an issue with one will have to deal with all of us. And I'm not afraid to withdraw our family unit - as a whole - from anyone who is not a positive influence.
And if that happens, that will be your loss, not mine.
Monday, 15 November 2010
And now for something a bit different...
I wanted to do this, and here seemed like as good a place as any! Hope you can all indulge me...normal service will be resumed soon!
Dear baby boy,
You will be here soon, and things could get a bit hectic for a while. So I wanted to take advantage of the peace and quiet of these last few days to write my hopes and fears for you - and for me.
I'm so excited about meeting you. I know things won't always be perfect (and believe me, that's been a hard lesson to learn!) but I'm working on being the best mum I can be to you and your big sister.
I want things to be different to when she was born. But that doesn't mean I want things to be perfect. I don't care if the house isn't spotless when the health visitor or your relatives come - in fact, as I sit here typing this I can see clutter that needs putting away, dust that needs sweeping and a rug that needs vacuuming.
But that doesn't matter. What matters is getting to know you, and adjusting to our new lives as a family of four.
It will be hard for all of us in different ways. Your dad has a lot of pressure as well as he worries about all of us, and your sister is very excited but will have a lot of hard lessons of her own to learn.
You've already taught me a lot and although it hasn't always been fun (I could have done without the gestational diabetes and pre-eclampsia!) it's been useful. Before you've even arrived you've let me know in no uncertain terms that you are not the same as your sister.
And that means things will not necessarily be the same as they were when she was born.
I'm sure you'll let us know if things are not quite to your liking, just as your sister will, but I hope we can all learn to compromise together and build a loving family unit. Actually, that should be "build a bigger family unit" - the three of us are already a strong unit and we have plenty of love for you too.
I promise to try to remember that you are different to your sister. You will have different tastes, likes and dislikes, and a different personality. That's okay - just look at me and your aunts!
I also promise to try not to compare the two of you - I know how annoying that can be. And I promise not to take sides - and to make sure you know that you will always be my best boy, while your sister will always be my best girl. There's a special place in the family for both of you.
It's no secret that I find it hard to be a mum, and I won't pretend that's changed.
But your sister has done a great job in training me and I will be able to use the skills she taught me for you. And while you may not be as appreciative of glitter and pinkness as she is, I promise to try to embrace boy noise and boy energy as I learn to be your mum too.
I hope I can teach you things too, and I know your sister will try to impart her wisdom and knowledge. Please be patient with her - she means well!
We're all eagerly awaiting your arrival, and I hope when things get tough that you can remember how much you are loved and wanted, just like your sister.
With love,
Mum.
Dear baby boy,
You will be here soon, and things could get a bit hectic for a while. So I wanted to take advantage of the peace and quiet of these last few days to write my hopes and fears for you - and for me.
I'm so excited about meeting you. I know things won't always be perfect (and believe me, that's been a hard lesson to learn!) but I'm working on being the best mum I can be to you and your big sister.
I want things to be different to when she was born. But that doesn't mean I want things to be perfect. I don't care if the house isn't spotless when the health visitor or your relatives come - in fact, as I sit here typing this I can see clutter that needs putting away, dust that needs sweeping and a rug that needs vacuuming.
But that doesn't matter. What matters is getting to know you, and adjusting to our new lives as a family of four.
It will be hard for all of us in different ways. Your dad has a lot of pressure as well as he worries about all of us, and your sister is very excited but will have a lot of hard lessons of her own to learn.
You've already taught me a lot and although it hasn't always been fun (I could have done without the gestational diabetes and pre-eclampsia!) it's been useful. Before you've even arrived you've let me know in no uncertain terms that you are not the same as your sister.
And that means things will not necessarily be the same as they were when she was born.
I'm sure you'll let us know if things are not quite to your liking, just as your sister will, but I hope we can all learn to compromise together and build a loving family unit. Actually, that should be "build a bigger family unit" - the three of us are already a strong unit and we have plenty of love for you too.
I promise to try to remember that you are different to your sister. You will have different tastes, likes and dislikes, and a different personality. That's okay - just look at me and your aunts!
I also promise to try not to compare the two of you - I know how annoying that can be. And I promise not to take sides - and to make sure you know that you will always be my best boy, while your sister will always be my best girl. There's a special place in the family for both of you.
It's no secret that I find it hard to be a mum, and I won't pretend that's changed.
But your sister has done a great job in training me and I will be able to use the skills she taught me for you. And while you may not be as appreciative of glitter and pinkness as she is, I promise to try to embrace boy noise and boy energy as I learn to be your mum too.
I hope I can teach you things too, and I know your sister will try to impart her wisdom and knowledge. Please be patient with her - she means well!
We're all eagerly awaiting your arrival, and I hope when things get tough that you can remember how much you are loved and wanted, just like your sister.
With love,
Mum.
Monday, 1 November 2010
It's time to look back...
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!
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!
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
Update
I should be working, but I'm not in the mood, so as I promised you more entries, here you go!
So what's new? I'm still here, and that's a start...
The cliff edge is still looming some days, but as predicted, my lovely therapist helped put some perspective on the situation.
It's funny; I already know everything she tells me, about mindfulness and keeping control of negative thoughts, but somehow it gets lost in the fog when things seem bad, or when I haven't seen her for a while.
That's why my next move will be to text her and arrange our next appointment, probably our last before we are a family of four.
Since I saw her I have been reining myself in a bit, but I admit it's been tough. Sometimes it's easier just to give in to the waves of disaster as they roll in.
Take the latest update - about three weeks ago I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. It's not a disaster at all; I feel fine, it's quite common, it can be controlled/treated and we are well along that road now, but my first thought was that this was yet another problem that showed it was a mistake to try to extend our family.
We'd already had a scare with an early scan that showed a possible problem - it turned out to be fine - but of course I interpreted it as a asign from the universe that we should have stuck with Miss T. And that's before I even consider the impact a new arrival is going to have on her!
But at the moment, I'm not going down that road. I'm concentrating on the lovely sibling relationships I've seen lately and the fact that even if the worst happens and the blackness descends, there are plenty of hands waiting to pull me out.
So for the moment, despite things not going to plan, I'm feeling positive. Fingers crossed that continues!
So what's new? I'm still here, and that's a start...
The cliff edge is still looming some days, but as predicted, my lovely therapist helped put some perspective on the situation.
It's funny; I already know everything she tells me, about mindfulness and keeping control of negative thoughts, but somehow it gets lost in the fog when things seem bad, or when I haven't seen her for a while.
That's why my next move will be to text her and arrange our next appointment, probably our last before we are a family of four.
Since I saw her I have been reining myself in a bit, but I admit it's been tough. Sometimes it's easier just to give in to the waves of disaster as they roll in.
Take the latest update - about three weeks ago I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. It's not a disaster at all; I feel fine, it's quite common, it can be controlled/treated and we are well along that road now, but my first thought was that this was yet another problem that showed it was a mistake to try to extend our family.
We'd already had a scare with an early scan that showed a possible problem - it turned out to be fine - but of course I interpreted it as a asign from the universe that we should have stuck with Miss T. And that's before I even consider the impact a new arrival is going to have on her!
But at the moment, I'm not going down that road. I'm concentrating on the lovely sibling relationships I've seen lately and the fact that even if the worst happens and the blackness descends, there are plenty of hands waiting to pull me out.
So for the moment, despite things not going to plan, I'm feeling positive. Fingers crossed that continues!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
