Post by ifeelsad on Sept 19, 2014 12:54:27 GMT
Dear me.
this is somewhere where I want to off-load my thoughts as:
I can't handle whats in my head sometimes and
i don't feel my husband understands and most the time plus I don't want to tell anyone when I feel low.
I forget how low I get 5 minutes after I feel a bit better and want to keep an accurate diary of how things 'really' are. This way I can tell my counsellor/gp and get the proper help I need.
well, where do I start??? At the beginning I suppose. 3 years ago I had my 1st child. I have to admit that I found the pregnancy really hard. Physically, I had morning sickness for the whole 9 months :-( and mentally, I gave myself a hard time. My husband has a son from a previous marriage which I struggle dealing with. I believe he favours him over our family and we always have to fit in around his son appose to the other way round. My husband was not willing to make adjustments when it came to his son and us. Anyway, we didn't find out the sex of our baby a) I thought it was traditional and b) I really didn't want a boy as I didn't want my husband to constantly compare our son and his. So I didn't want to find out mainly because I didn't want to be disappointed throughout my pregnancy. It sounds awful but that's the truth of it. My husband was convinced it was a boy and used to say "I can only have boys" (coming from the ONE child you already have?
And "there's only boys in my family" is that excluding the only child your brother had WHICH IS A GIRL? He really did chat some cr*p but it bothered me. I already played second best to his perfect child so I didn't want me and our child to be his first sons substitute. If you listened to my husband, he talks a perfect father but the reality soon shone through.
Anyway, my child was born and he was a boy. I quickly spotted the sex before they whipped him away to resuscitate him. Everything was going wrong.....it was supposed to be a straight forward birth but this was my punishment for thinking bad thoughts when I was pregnant "I don't want a boy" "if it's a boy, I won't be able to love him" "ill swap him" etc etc etc. I hate recalling these memories as I feel rotten about thinking like that. I should never of been so selfish to think those thoughts. I should have enjoyed my pregnancy and been grateful for being able to have a child but I hadn't. Anyway.......whilst in labour, things started going wrong and I knew it as soon as the room started filling up with doctors and the mid-wife's voice started to turn more stern/panicky. Eventually, my son was born, a limp little blue body, slumped out on to the bed. (My husband said that his cord was wrapped round his neck but they didn't document this at any point and say this didn't happen). I briefly saw him before he was whipped away, I hadn't even said 'hello' to him, he was struggling to survive and it was all my fault!!!!!
The mid-wife was panicking at this point (I have no idea why) but it was clear she was rushing. She injected my leg (to release the placenta) and immediately started tugging at it. I was just about to say "You said leave it 5 minutes to start working" when SNAP, it broke in her hand. She started swearing and saying to someone in the room "it just broke, it usually gives a sign its about to snap.....but it just broke in my hand". Within minutes, I started feeling VERY SICK but I didn't know what was happening with my son. They said I had to go to emergency theatre immediately. I requested the injection to put me out but all I could think was I'm going to wake up and be told my baby is dead. I was strangely calm and remember thinking this happened because of what I thought throughout my pregnancy. For the first time ever, my husband didn't know what to do and looked completely lost. I will never forget his face when he was stood there not knowing where to go....with me or with our son. He was literally torn in two. I told him to go with our son as he needed him, I would be fine. I then sat there all alone waiting for the anaesthetist to arrive and I looked out the window at the clouds and begged them (those up above if you know what I mean) to keep my son alive.
I was rushed out to theatre, my son survived and I walked to his incubator as soon as I literally woke up. Cut a long story short, he was ok but they had found a lump in his chest which they suspected to be cancer for the first three months of his life. After a gruelling and agonising three months, it turned out to be nothing and he was given a clean bill of health. I never quite got over the traumatic birth and was given a "de-brief" of the birth about a year later. (We wanted another child but I was so scared of giving birth incase the same thing happened). The doctor told me that it would never happen twice and I would be very unlucky to have this happen again. Although I felt very nervous about giving birth again, I held on to this piece of information and tried to reassure myself with it when I felt uneasy and I fell pregnant a few months later.
My second pregnancy was easier than my first, my morning sickness weaned off after 4/5 months and I continued working up until I gave birth. We found out that we were having a little girl (even though hubby still insisted he "could only produce boys"). Again, this was supposed to go without complication but again, my little girl arrived (with the cord round her neck) and was rushed away for resuscitation. I was left there kneeling on the bed, completely exhausted but I couldn't sit down as there was still equipment attached to me/my cord so would have sat on metal objects if I did. I remember looking round at my husband who just sat there with his head in his hands. I very clearly remember at that point shutting down, it was like a black sheet covered me and my emotions switched off. I don't remember much about it after then as I couldn't take anymore. I could not go through another period of time like I had before thinking my child was about to die every second of the day. But, she came back after a short (ish) time (don't know how long it was) but she was ok. I actually got to cuddle my baby on my chest which I never got to do before.
You would think that this was the end of my woes but little did I know, it was just the beginning. After giving birth, (we rent) we were forced to move due to the house being sold, me and my husband were not getting on as we should. We moved house end of Jan. I asked my husband to move out beginning of April so as to save our marriage and we would work on 'us' whilst we were apart (date nights etc). Although I thought we were trying to resolve our issues, when my daughter was 3 months old, my husband decided to start an affair with some ugly tramp from work. (I only found out about it 3 months later). He swears it was non-sexual but who knows. (But that's another story). Finding out about his affair was the tipping point for me emotionally.
That all seems so long ago now yet I still feel its as raw as finding out yesterday. My health visitor picked up from very early stages that I had post-natal depression and worked closely with me. I did not notice how bad I had got in all honesty. I remember completely breaking down one day and was forced to go to the doctors by some good friends as I could not cope and I couldn't hide it from anyone anymore. To cut an already long story shorter, I was put on anti-depressants. Citalapram (not sure how their spelt). Anyway, these did not work for me. I found myself not caring about anything or anyone. I was really depressed still and couldn't sleep. My medication has been changed for mirtazapine. Initially I had the lower dose to make me sleep which worked but there were other 'episodes' which meant me going to have a mental health assessment and upping my pills. (I had hallucinations and really wasn't coping with anything).
This is where I'm at now: My husband has moved back in and a couple of weeks ago, had to take time off work to stay at home with me and the kids as I couldn't cope on my own. (He's now back at work due to not being able to take anymore time off). But I don't feel any better. My pills have been upped and I have another assessment in 1.5 weeks to see how the pills are working but they are piling the pounds on (I can't take weight gain on top of everything else). They have increased my appetite beyond belief. I'm quite healthy normally but all I want to do us eat crap.....and a lot if it. I have ZERO energy (May gave something to do with eating rubbish food). My aggression is 0-60 in a millisecond. I'm still not coping, I break down over anything and everything. My eldest child gets the wrath of me all the time. I'm messing my kids up with my own attitude. My son is constantly telling me not to cry, it's just awful. I hate being me. I hate being a parent a lot of the time, I just want to wake up and be somewhere else.....someone else even. I don't know how I feel about anything anymore. One minute I can be ok (like now) but then I feel rotten the next. This morning, I was shouting at my kids, I text my husband (but didn't send it) and it states that I hate my kids, I've got no energy and I can't handle anything. Yesterday, I called him and left a voicemail, crying my heart out sobbing down the phone telling him I couldn't cope.
Sometimes the thoughts that go through my head are so awful, I have never told anyone because I thought I was such an awful person that if I told anyone I would be locked up or if I told anyone, they wouldn't understand. Many times I thought I should kill myself because I couldn't live with those thoughts in my head. These thoughts being about child abuse. Uggghhhh, even the words written down make me want to be sick. I remember watching the news and a story about a horrendous child abuser came on, I changed my daughters nappy a few hours later and then imagined it being done to my daughter. I was nearly sick and the next day i couldn't shift the thought for ages. It was only a minute ago when reading this site that I heard it was very common for PND sufferers to think this. Don't get me wrong, I'm still not comfortable with that thought but at least I know its a common thought. I would still never say it out loud though as the words are not normal and I don't want them associated with my daughter (or my son for that matter). I don't know what I would do if that ever happened to my kids so I don't want to think about it!
sometimes my thoughts are violent. I would never hurt my kids but why are the thoughts there. I imagine slapping them or pushing them out of my way. I imagine leaving them and just walking away from it all. When I'm low, I've considered getting myself sectioned just to get away from them. But I know I don't want to be away forever, just a short while. If my husband wasn't so incompetent with my children then maybe I would. If he didn't have another kid then things would be so different. I have homestart come round weekly (which is an organisation where volunteers come round your house and help you with daily living (looking after kids, getting ready etc) but as embarrassed as I feel having them here, it's good because for 3 hours, I get to talk to someone. I almost get to forget being me for a while. The downside being I come crashing down when they've left. It's almost a punishment for feeling ok for a bit. I'm just rambling, I came on here to release my thoughts and there is so much I've missed out and so much more I have to say but I will do that another day. This will do for now.
this is somewhere where I want to off-load my thoughts as:
I can't handle whats in my head sometimes and
i don't feel my husband understands and most the time plus I don't want to tell anyone when I feel low.
I forget how low I get 5 minutes after I feel a bit better and want to keep an accurate diary of how things 'really' are. This way I can tell my counsellor/gp and get the proper help I need.
well, where do I start??? At the beginning I suppose. 3 years ago I had my 1st child. I have to admit that I found the pregnancy really hard. Physically, I had morning sickness for the whole 9 months :-( and mentally, I gave myself a hard time. My husband has a son from a previous marriage which I struggle dealing with. I believe he favours him over our family and we always have to fit in around his son appose to the other way round. My husband was not willing to make adjustments when it came to his son and us. Anyway, we didn't find out the sex of our baby a) I thought it was traditional and b) I really didn't want a boy as I didn't want my husband to constantly compare our son and his. So I didn't want to find out mainly because I didn't want to be disappointed throughout my pregnancy. It sounds awful but that's the truth of it. My husband was convinced it was a boy and used to say "I can only have boys" (coming from the ONE child you already have?
And "there's only boys in my family" is that excluding the only child your brother had WHICH IS A GIRL? He really did chat some cr*p but it bothered me. I already played second best to his perfect child so I didn't want me and our child to be his first sons substitute. If you listened to my husband, he talks a perfect father but the reality soon shone through.Anyway, my child was born and he was a boy. I quickly spotted the sex before they whipped him away to resuscitate him. Everything was going wrong.....it was supposed to be a straight forward birth but this was my punishment for thinking bad thoughts when I was pregnant "I don't want a boy" "if it's a boy, I won't be able to love him" "ill swap him" etc etc etc. I hate recalling these memories as I feel rotten about thinking like that. I should never of been so selfish to think those thoughts. I should have enjoyed my pregnancy and been grateful for being able to have a child but I hadn't. Anyway.......whilst in labour, things started going wrong and I knew it as soon as the room started filling up with doctors and the mid-wife's voice started to turn more stern/panicky. Eventually, my son was born, a limp little blue body, slumped out on to the bed. (My husband said that his cord was wrapped round his neck but they didn't document this at any point and say this didn't happen). I briefly saw him before he was whipped away, I hadn't even said 'hello' to him, he was struggling to survive and it was all my fault!!!!!
The mid-wife was panicking at this point (I have no idea why) but it was clear she was rushing. She injected my leg (to release the placenta) and immediately started tugging at it. I was just about to say "You said leave it 5 minutes to start working" when SNAP, it broke in her hand. She started swearing and saying to someone in the room "it just broke, it usually gives a sign its about to snap.....but it just broke in my hand". Within minutes, I started feeling VERY SICK but I didn't know what was happening with my son. They said I had to go to emergency theatre immediately. I requested the injection to put me out but all I could think was I'm going to wake up and be told my baby is dead. I was strangely calm and remember thinking this happened because of what I thought throughout my pregnancy. For the first time ever, my husband didn't know what to do and looked completely lost. I will never forget his face when he was stood there not knowing where to go....with me or with our son. He was literally torn in two. I told him to go with our son as he needed him, I would be fine. I then sat there all alone waiting for the anaesthetist to arrive and I looked out the window at the clouds and begged them (those up above if you know what I mean) to keep my son alive.
I was rushed out to theatre, my son survived and I walked to his incubator as soon as I literally woke up. Cut a long story short, he was ok but they had found a lump in his chest which they suspected to be cancer for the first three months of his life. After a gruelling and agonising three months, it turned out to be nothing and he was given a clean bill of health. I never quite got over the traumatic birth and was given a "de-brief" of the birth about a year later. (We wanted another child but I was so scared of giving birth incase the same thing happened). The doctor told me that it would never happen twice and I would be very unlucky to have this happen again. Although I felt very nervous about giving birth again, I held on to this piece of information and tried to reassure myself with it when I felt uneasy and I fell pregnant a few months later.
My second pregnancy was easier than my first, my morning sickness weaned off after 4/5 months and I continued working up until I gave birth. We found out that we were having a little girl (even though hubby still insisted he "could only produce boys"). Again, this was supposed to go without complication but again, my little girl arrived (with the cord round her neck) and was rushed away for resuscitation. I was left there kneeling on the bed, completely exhausted but I couldn't sit down as there was still equipment attached to me/my cord so would have sat on metal objects if I did. I remember looking round at my husband who just sat there with his head in his hands. I very clearly remember at that point shutting down, it was like a black sheet covered me and my emotions switched off. I don't remember much about it after then as I couldn't take anymore. I could not go through another period of time like I had before thinking my child was about to die every second of the day. But, she came back after a short (ish) time (don't know how long it was) but she was ok. I actually got to cuddle my baby on my chest which I never got to do before.
You would think that this was the end of my woes but little did I know, it was just the beginning. After giving birth, (we rent) we were forced to move due to the house being sold, me and my husband were not getting on as we should. We moved house end of Jan. I asked my husband to move out beginning of April so as to save our marriage and we would work on 'us' whilst we were apart (date nights etc). Although I thought we were trying to resolve our issues, when my daughter was 3 months old, my husband decided to start an affair with some ugly tramp from work. (I only found out about it 3 months later). He swears it was non-sexual but who knows. (But that's another story). Finding out about his affair was the tipping point for me emotionally.
That all seems so long ago now yet I still feel its as raw as finding out yesterday. My health visitor picked up from very early stages that I had post-natal depression and worked closely with me. I did not notice how bad I had got in all honesty. I remember completely breaking down one day and was forced to go to the doctors by some good friends as I could not cope and I couldn't hide it from anyone anymore. To cut an already long story shorter, I was put on anti-depressants. Citalapram (not sure how their spelt). Anyway, these did not work for me. I found myself not caring about anything or anyone. I was really depressed still and couldn't sleep. My medication has been changed for mirtazapine. Initially I had the lower dose to make me sleep which worked but there were other 'episodes' which meant me going to have a mental health assessment and upping my pills. (I had hallucinations and really wasn't coping with anything).
This is where I'm at now: My husband has moved back in and a couple of weeks ago, had to take time off work to stay at home with me and the kids as I couldn't cope on my own. (He's now back at work due to not being able to take anymore time off). But I don't feel any better. My pills have been upped and I have another assessment in 1.5 weeks to see how the pills are working but they are piling the pounds on (I can't take weight gain on top of everything else). They have increased my appetite beyond belief. I'm quite healthy normally but all I want to do us eat crap.....and a lot if it. I have ZERO energy (May gave something to do with eating rubbish food). My aggression is 0-60 in a millisecond. I'm still not coping, I break down over anything and everything. My eldest child gets the wrath of me all the time. I'm messing my kids up with my own attitude. My son is constantly telling me not to cry, it's just awful. I hate being me. I hate being a parent a lot of the time, I just want to wake up and be somewhere else.....someone else even. I don't know how I feel about anything anymore. One minute I can be ok (like now) but then I feel rotten the next. This morning, I was shouting at my kids, I text my husband (but didn't send it) and it states that I hate my kids, I've got no energy and I can't handle anything. Yesterday, I called him and left a voicemail, crying my heart out sobbing down the phone telling him I couldn't cope.
Sometimes the thoughts that go through my head are so awful, I have never told anyone because I thought I was such an awful person that if I told anyone I would be locked up or if I told anyone, they wouldn't understand. Many times I thought I should kill myself because I couldn't live with those thoughts in my head. These thoughts being about child abuse. Uggghhhh, even the words written down make me want to be sick. I remember watching the news and a story about a horrendous child abuser came on, I changed my daughters nappy a few hours later and then imagined it being done to my daughter. I was nearly sick and the next day i couldn't shift the thought for ages. It was only a minute ago when reading this site that I heard it was very common for PND sufferers to think this. Don't get me wrong, I'm still not comfortable with that thought but at least I know its a common thought. I would still never say it out loud though as the words are not normal and I don't want them associated with my daughter (or my son for that matter). I don't know what I would do if that ever happened to my kids so I don't want to think about it!
sometimes my thoughts are violent. I would never hurt my kids but why are the thoughts there. I imagine slapping them or pushing them out of my way. I imagine leaving them and just walking away from it all. When I'm low, I've considered getting myself sectioned just to get away from them. But I know I don't want to be away forever, just a short while. If my husband wasn't so incompetent with my children then maybe I would. If he didn't have another kid then things would be so different. I have homestart come round weekly (which is an organisation where volunteers come round your house and help you with daily living (looking after kids, getting ready etc) but as embarrassed as I feel having them here, it's good because for 3 hours, I get to talk to someone. I almost get to forget being me for a while. The downside being I come crashing down when they've left. It's almost a punishment for feeling ok for a bit. I'm just rambling, I came on here to release my thoughts and there is so much I've missed out and so much more I have to say but I will do that another day. This will do for now.
