Parenting, Mental Health & Lifestyle

I’m finally ready to talk about my birth story. Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week 2023 and Mental Health Awareness Week are at the forefront of peoples’ minds and it feels right for me to share.

Trigger warning – throughout this post, I will discuss intimate topics regarding the birthing process. Depression, anxiety, paranoia & touch on baby loss. If any of these subjects are a trigger for you, please do not continue to read this post

PLEASE NOTE – It’s also important to note that this post contains an account of my own personal experiences and perspective during that time.

The right time

I’ve wanted to talk about this for a while. But I simply haven’t been ready. You may have seen a TikTok post about the dangers of postpartum depression. This subject is something I am passionate about. Because my mental health significantly worsened during pregnancy. Hormones played a huge part in my declining mental well-being. 

The essence of this blog is to raise awareness of both mental illness AND how difficult pregnancy can be for some expectant mothers

Before we get into it 

It’s important to note that it’s only over the last year that I feel able to discuss these issues. For two years following birth, I really struggled mentally and emotionally. 

I will be honest and say that I still have some paranoid thoughts about the safety of my little one. Which I think stems from the fact we experienced an emergency situation during birth. I try my best not to let these thoughts impact my daily life. And I’m no longer a believer in “what if” – the what if never happened. Probably for a good reason. Therefore it’s just a waste of brain power. And in the past, contemplating the “what if”, sent me to a dark place mentally. I’m quite disciplined these days in not allowing my mind to run away with itself. 

Existing anxiety

Looking back, I think the main personality trait which worsened my anxiety levels in the hospital, was lack of control. I also live my life based on instincts, something you can’t convey in a clinical setting.

Six months before birth I just knew it would result in a c section. I had a feeling, but it was more than that. It was so believable to me – like it had already taken place. This made interactions with midwives difficult. Because I just wanted the outcome I KNEW would happen anyway. I want people to understand that expectant mothers DO know best. We know our own bodies and instinctively feel things someone else could never understand.

But first… Some context – let’s look at pregnancy and the lead-up to the birth

In addition to stress from my day job, one of the biggest driving factors for my decline in mental health was pregnancy. I still can’t remember a day, during pregnancy, when I felt happy and well. There probably was some, but for me, the whole process was one I just didn’t enjoy! This experience makes me apprehensive about going through the process again. AND it makes me angry when I see polished parenting posts online. I wish people would be mindful that not everyone’s pregnancy experience is the same. I am happy with people posting about their lives. Just not making their lives about everyone else. This can be so harmful to young expectant mothers.

Having to travel to work, five days a week, met with stress, whilst pregnant, sick & tired, was a daily battle. It got to the point where I couldn’t physically do it anymore and had to leave work one month earlier than planned. The worry of an already short maternity leave and money pressures, added to the anxiety of the whole experience. 

Antenatal depression

I’ve discussed on the blog before that I suffered from antenatal depression. However, at the time I didn’t know this term and nobody helped me in establishing what was actually happening to me. Labels aren’t always helpful when it comes to mental health. But on this occasion, for me, it would have been. I made the difficult decision to start taking antidepressants during pregnancy. I had no choice. Being incredibly unwell, at such a vulnerable time in life was horrible. And I needed something to stabilise me. 

Going into the hospital to be induced, I was full of anxiety and what followed was a series of traumatic events. I just wasn’t able to adequately cope with it. 

The nitty gritty 

We arrived at the hospital, apprehensive, as any first-time parents would be. This is us in the sunshine, not knowing what to expect.

I was induced on my due date because one of the measures of my scans was a little concerning. That day we had a stand-in sonographer. And to this day I feel like he was sent to me by those watching over me. As you will learn later in this story, my little one was at risk and had a chest infection. In newborns, this can be severe and they label it pneumonia (something I cried about when I read the notes) If I hadn’t been offered an induction on my due date, where would we be? 

SIDE NOTE – I was given my maternity notes, which I opened one day and it resulted in a complete meltdown. I don’t think this information should never have been in my hands. When firstly, I was so out of it during the experience, that I don’t remember much. And secondly, the trauma of it all made me vulnerable.

The induction suite

The induction was going well until they asked my partner to leave at 9 pm. Partners couldn’t stay in the induction suite. At this point, I lost the one person who could support me and knew me inside out. Don’t get me wrong, maternity staff are some of the loveliest people you will ever meet. But they do not know you enough to understand you in your most vulnerable moments of life. For these reasons, I am a huge advocate for partners or trusted people being allowed to sleep in maternity wards, preferably in private rooms with bathroom facilities. It’s an absolute must for me. And something I will always continue to advocate for. 

Loss of a trusted person who knows you well

Mentally and physically things went downhill after my partner left. I was in so much pain and something was wrong, but I felt like the staff wouldn’t listen. There was stuff scattered all over our cubicle because I was in so much pain I couldn’t bend down and pick things up. I felt like a nuisance to other people in the induction suite. My anxiety levels were through the roof and I felt alone.

The staff agreed move me at 1 am. At this point, I was unable to pick up a phone to speak to my partner (they had to do it for me). And they rushed me round, on a wheelchair to a birthing room. But prior to this, I was told one wasn’t ready!

Epidural

Because the pain was so bad, I requested an epidural. My mum and hubby witnessed me in so much pain and not doing well at all, prior to them agreeing to pain relief. The anaesthetist took ages to arrive. I’m fully aware the NHS staff are busy. But in the moment, it was difficult to be anything other than fuming, exhausted and ready to flip out. 

SIDE NOTE – I still have sciatica to this day and my back has never been the same since the epidural. But each time I raise with a GP, I’m told it shouldn’t be an issue. Lasting physical damage as a result of pregnancy is also something I am eager to raise awareness of. It happens. And I would rather listen to the genuine experiences of people who have suffered physically postpartum (there are lots of people saying the same thing as me)

Following the epidural, I was able to recover slightly from the pain. There were two lovely midwives assigned to me. But I was very sick and needed to have my clothes cut off, because sick went everywhere. They tried to put a thin sheet on me and I felt overheated. Like I would be sick again. Therefore I spent the majority of my time in this room, completely naked for all staff to see. In moments like this, you simply don’t care. Birth and motherhood definitely make you less bothered about vanity and how you look. 

I want to thank those two midwives. They turned a traumatic experience around, for the majority of the time I was in hospital. For a while, my anxiety levels were reduced and I could get some much needed rest!

Anxiety setting in

Although the pain was gone, I was still somewhat anxious that they kept topping up the epidural and the pressure I was feeling just didn’t feel right. It would transpire later that my little one was stuck and her shoulders were ramming into my bottom. Something I had told staff since about 10 pm, in the induction suite. The surgeon commented that she would never have come out naturally and that whoever made the c-section decision, made the right call. This is EXACTLY how I felt earlier in the night.

Not being heard – let’s rewind

Let’s go back to the delivery room. Nothing was progressing and I wasn’t passing any urine. I also had some feeling down one leg, which was strange. 

I asked for a c-section, but because I had known it would happen six months prior, I didn’t come across in the right way. And the staff in the room felt reluctant to do it. They wanted me to wait it out! It was a battle to have my wishes fulfilled. I take on board that some of the reluctance was due to how I reacted.

Following a collective decision to finally do it. Panic stations ensued. Signing paperwork, getting me ready. What I wasn’t aware of at the time, was that I had a fever and the little one was clearly in distress and needed to come out. I was completely out of it. And to this day, I tell a different story to my hubby. Bless him, he was aware of everything that happened that day. And also suffered mentally after birth. We both did.

The aftermath of the C-section

The operation went well, but I was distressed as to why she wasn’t crying (apparently c section babies don’t cry as they have mucus stuck and staff have to clear their airways)

The relief I was feeling during these pictures was immense. She was finally here and safe. But not for long. 

My poor mum had waited outside the emergency delivery room for over an hour. Probably worried sick. I was only allowed one other person with me in the theatre. And my mum completely understood that this should be my hubby. 

My little baby whisked away

We were taken to a private room, but the midwife was concerned about my little one looking blue. The neonatal manager came in and gave her some oxygen.  Then quickly whisked her away to the neonatal ward. At the time, this was painful for her to be taken and I was so out of it, I didn’t know what was happening. Sleep was the only thing on my mind. But then I felt guilty for wanting to sleep and not being able to take care of my baby.

I couldn’t fully comprehend she had been taken. In hindsight, she was in the best place possible. And both the midwife and neonatal manager called in to check on me (after their shifts had ended!). They understood how painful this situation was and their care had a positive impact on me. In what was a very distressing situation. 

Hospital stay

In the five days which followed, my hubby was the one caring for both me and my little one. I was in a ward where it was noisy. The staff busy rushing around and I wasn’t doing well mentally. I didn’t want to get up and about (due to the risk of blood clots after surgery, you need to get up and walk). Therefore I had to be encouraged to go see my little one and it was a while before I did. 

Fear of being judged

I’ve spoken on the blog and my social media accounts before, about the fact that I believed the hospital staff were watching me. Paranoia set in and it’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to visit my little one. I was afraid of getting it wrong. It’s important to say, they were not actually doing anything to rationalise this feeling. But high anxiety levels, exhaustion, and hormones played a big part in my warped perspective. A perspective which was very real to me at the time.

In terms of breastfeeding, I didn’t feel like a choice was being presented to me, for how I wanted to feed my baby. To be honest, going through the pain of breastfeeding was the last thing on my mind and probably the one thing which would have tipped me over the edge mentally.

My little one is fine, never having been breastfed. And I know LOTS of other babies who are too. I wish society would be more accepting of the fact it’s a choice. I’m fine with being told about the benefits of breastfeeding. But not being presented with your own clear choice to make, is a problem for me.

Honest feelings about the neonatal unit

To be honest, part of me wanted to stay away from the neonatal unit for fear they would talk about breastfeeding. The nurse looking after our little one didn’t, other than to ask what my decision was. But I was apprehensive about it constantly. 

I stayed in the hospital for three days and was relieved when I was discharged. You don’t get proper rest on these wards and are woken up every hour for checks. The real recovery began at home. But I was so distressed about leaving my little one in the hospital. I couldn’t win. It felt like I chopped my leg off and left it behind. But home was the best place for my recovery.

We were offered a room in the neonatal ward but refused it. I wouldn’t have properly rested. I was still weary of being there and there were other, more needy parents who would use it. Parents whose babies would remain on that ward for months and not days. (at this point, I should make it clear again that neonatal staff are some of the most amazing people. But my perspective was totally warped by anxiety, depression, mum guilt and birth trauma).

My heart goes out to anyone who has endured birth trauma, or separation from a little one following birth. Or any family who has suffered mental health problems as a result of the pregnancy or the birth process. 

Coming home

When my little one eventually came home, we were so thankful. But we also didn’t have a clue what to do. Nobody helps you. I was so overcautious about her safety, I would ask my hubby to carry her from room to room in a Moses basket. And ask visitors to hand gel first (we didn’t even have visitors for the first few weeks). Because she had already been ill, I was convinced she would get ill again. 

A turning point

Whilst I coped well, the medication helped. It would be two years before I could fully move past the trauma that happened to our family.

The turning point was me drunkenly saying I didn’t want to have another child, for fear they might die. 

Solutions 

In terms of maternity wards, simple changes could be made to ensure the experience is a little better. Such as private rooms, enough beds and partners being allowed to stay overnight.

I am fully aware there is no simple solution to the problem.

I also don’t think it’s appropriate to warn new parents of the dangers and unpredictability of childbirth. It’s just a given that new parents will probably be less equipped to cope with the anxieties and potential trauma of birth, than parents who’ve already experienced the system. 

TikTok post – postpartum psychosis 

You may have seen my TikTok post about the potential mental health dangers for new mums. Postpartum psychosis is something which can happen and it’s great that we are starting to raise awareness on this topic. More needs to be done to support new mothers and families.

I’ve spoken before on my blog about how beneficial a mental health nurse or well-being expert would be on a maternity ward. This would have benefitted me and my family so much. My medical notes were clear. I had depression and anxiety problems, which we so severe I started taking antidepressants during pregnancy. A mental health champion would have been amazing!

Health visitors

In the UK we have health visitors, who make contact when you come home, but you have little contact with them. And at the time, in my mental state, I honestly just felt like they were checking up on me. I felt inadequate as a mother. But like I had to put on a brave face during visits. My health visitor was caring and sympathetic. But I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being judged.

To tell anyone the reality of the thoughts inside my head would have alarmed them. I was in no way a danger to anyone – just exhausted, anxious, depressed, hormonal and thrown into a completely unknown situation. With a severe lack of sleep. Wondering what on earth had just happened to our family, and trying to make sense of it all. 

Let’s not stigmatise already traumatised new parents

Ultimately, we need to stop judging new parents for feeling completely normal feelings, following birth. After a traumatic experience, these reactions are completely justified. So why do new parents and specifically new mothers, feel unable to speak out? Without fear of being judged or stigmatised. 

Final thoughts & summary 

My little one is almost four years old. And I finally feel like I have mentally and emotionally moved past this experience. Time helps you move on. Education also massively helped. Reading about what happened to me. Labelling some of the mental health conditions I had. And speaking to other parents, transformed my recovery.

Peer support and talking to other parents, also have a powerful impact. You get vital information from other people in a similar situation. And the connections I’ve made since starting this blog, help me mentally every single day. 

I will never stop posting on this blog. It was born from trauma, despair and finding my way through a very dark place.

But what I’ve created helps people. I know this from the amazing comments and feedback I get. Advocating for more understanding of those suffering poor mental health, is something I will continue to do.

It’s simply too important to give up on.