As ever, this article is informed by my own experience and reading and is not a substitute for medical advice, if you have any concerns about your own mental health and experience please consult your GP.
I always knew I was at high risk of post natal depression. I have a history of depression, and it runs in my family. I was fully expecting that this might be an issue, and I was open and honest about my history on my antenatal notes. During my pregnancy it was suspected I had ante natal depression, and I had counselling for this, although it was never diagnosed.
When Joseph was born I was elated, absolutely bouncing and happy, apart from my crash on
day 5, I was singing on the inside. Partly, I felt completely vindicated and relieved that I wasn't going crazy, there was something wrong with my pregnancy, and overjoyed that all had turned out ok, my baby was alive. My midwife was exceedingly concerned that I had the beginnings of severe post natal depression, and possibly psychosis. I was confused, and upset. Surely being happy was a good thing.
As time went on during our NICU stay I felt on an even keel emotionally. Yes, at times I was stressed, frustrated and occasionally angry, however for the most part I faced each day with a smile and got through it. My GP and my consultant kept an eye on me, but I never felt depressed. Once discharge was imminent, my caregivers relaxed. I was out of the immediate post natal period so surely everthing now would be ok. Wouldn't it?
When Joseph came home, over time, I started to deteriorate. And I felt totally confused. I wasn't depressed. I didn't feel sad, I didn't feel disconnected to my baby, or just "going through the motions". It didn't "feel" like post natal depression. I was totally and completely in love and bonded with my baby. What could it be?
I couldn't sleep. I was on high alert all the time, nervous, anxious, terrified that something would go wrong. When I did sleep I was plagued by stark, realistic nightmares. These had started when Joseph was in hospital. In one, Joseph had had an MRI scan, I had the films in my hand and I could see a break between T3 and T4 in his thoracic spine. I was so so scared about the ramifications of this. When I awoke I had no idea whether it was dream or real, so I called the unit who reassured me, and in the morning one of the neonatologists talked to me at length about Joseph's neurological state and the health of his spine.
The second one that sticks in my mind was my husband getting out of bed, running down the hallway with a brick in his hand to smash my skull with, so angry at my inability to sleep, and to be a proper wife and mother. I couldn't breathe, it took me ages to realise it was a dream, but still in my head that dream is processed as a memory. Horrific. However these nightmares only got worse when Joseph came home. I found if I slept in the day it was better. I was practically nocturnal.
Coupled with the nightmares were flashbacks, or as I called them, daymares. I had to seek alternative hand sanitiser as the one I had initially bought reminded me so much of hospital I would clutch Joseph to my chest and sob. The supermarket was horrendous. The beeping of the scanning machines sounded like a saturation monitor. The lights were so similar, and if I looked up, I would hyperventilate.
I used to panic when people wanted to touch Joseph. I'd worry at baby group if someone else held him, or if a baby was sneezing or coughing or had a rash. I used to go to weigh in at the clinic as soon as it opened and run away before anyone go there.
And the conversations from Joseph's time in hospital would play over and over in my mind. Things I should have said, should have done. I tortured myself for not trying harder with breastfeeding. Everytime I made a bottle I felt guilty, angry and upset with myself. It was so tiring. If being a new mum isn't exhausting enough, my self punishment, my nightmares, my high anxiety was making everything worse.
What the hell was wrong with me? Finally I went to the GP. She took one look at me and said the magic words "oh your not depressed, your traumatised, lets' see what we can do to help".
And that was it. I had PTSD Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Some mums (and lets not forget dads) get this either apart from, or with, post natal depression. PTSD is treatable, with therapy and/or medication and its important to get help. I was fortunate to have a GP who was very much aware of the difference, but not all are. And its important that the distinction is made as the treatment can be quite different. Also significant is that there is now
research that shows mothers who have suffered from pre eclampsia are at high risk of PTSD. In addition, and this is very interesting and significant for those planning a second baby is that there is new research to suggest
having PTSD in itself increases your risk of a premature baby. Logic would suggest if you have untreated PTSD and are pregnant again, then this in itself may increase your risk of PTSD, highlighting the need for recongition and prompt treatment.
And now, it all seems a memory. I look on Joseph's time in hospital with fondness in a way, I am amazed at not only his inner strength and determination, but mine too. And the brain's abilty to heal. However, I wish that I had been warned of this much earlier, as I would not have suffered for so long. I knew to look out for depression but not this. I hope that the existence of PTSD in mothers like me becomes a lot better documented, so that we all get the treatment that we need to be happy, content mums.
This article is a great one, and handy for showing a GP, although it is Amercian.