'Just to expand on things slightly. As you probably recall my pregnancy had been a breeze up till my routine visit to the midwife at 39 weeks. I had seen three different midwives although only two regularly. During that last visit she concluded that my measurements had 'dropped off'.Throughout my pregnancy I had questioned my size and had been concerned as to whether there had been enough movement. So I went for the scan. Jason came home from work in Milton Keynes. The lady who was going to do the scan wasn't concerned she thought my baby had dropped down into my pelvis. She fairly quickly realised she was wrong. She said 'this is a small baby'. What is small you ask yourself? I was placed on a monitor and was concerned when during what I had taken to be some sort of contraction the babies heart beat dropped significantly. I was soon bundled into an ambulance and told that it was likely that my baby would be delivered. How exactly I asked myself.
Brett was born at 15.31 by emergency Cesarean weighing 3lb 9oz. My birth plan went out the window. Brett was rushed past me and that was the last I saw of him bar a photo till almost 24 hour later.
Brett was in Intensive care for a week and special care for two. Bar being small and jaundice there were no other significant problems. It was a frustrating time, I truly felt like the baby sitter unsure of what I could and couldn't do.
Brett finally came home and at some point I remember thinking 'Your coping quite well'. Things finally went pear shaped one Friday night in May when Jason went away for the weekend to a football tournament. I thought I was going completely mad. I felt like I had spent all afternoon trying to unsuccessfully wash bottles. I spent the rest of that day and evening at my mums and a large part of that on the phone to NHS Direct. That was pretty much when I first admitted I couldn't cope. I had tried to be superwoman not wanting to admit failure. Most of the people who should have noticed there was a problem didn't, I.e doctors and health visitors.
I am still on anti depressants and have been since around May this year when having been told last Christmas by my doctor 'it's just you' and to come off them I stupidly did. Things then reached breaking point. I truly thought that either me or Jason would eventually say enough is enough. So I said I would do what I could to help me. They have been much more effective this time. I have tried other things in the mean time, EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique), I listen to a self hypnosis tape which Glenny gave me, more now as my time than necessity. I have chipped away at the OCD which spiralled out of control when the PND or PTSD kicked in. Life is soooo much easier now. I am not being so hard on myself and am getting on with life and enjoying (for the most part lol!) teaching and encouraging my little monkey Brett.
I feel very passionately that too many women are suffering silently. The signs are going unnoticed. PND or PTSD, I'm not sure of the difference technically can escalate out of all control which isn't good for mum, baby, dad or family that feel at a loss as to know what to do.
Anyway life is good. I'm looking forward to Christmas and Brett's second birthday, time has gone so fast on one hand but we're getting there.'
This is an excerpt from an email i have just sent to a friend. I hope that this may help one or two people realise that PND or PTSD are nothing to be embarrassed about. It's not as i put it about 'failure' more about getting the help to do the best job that you can. None of us are experts and we're all different and so are our capabilities. Maybe one of my problems was not accepting readily the help i was offered because for the most part I'd always managed before i had Brett so why should i need any help now. Well having a baby changes your life immeasurably so we all need a bit of help now and again whether it be medication a hug or help with the washing or ironing or a few minutes to ourselves. Don't be afraid to ask.