Post by charles47 on Jan 31, 2006 13:00:51 GMT
Last Saturday my partner sat on the stairs and screamed "I hate you" and "I don't see any way out of this" and "You don't know how many times I have thought about suicide".
Thinking this over, I decided that PNI/D was a possibility, and started to do some research. Thank you so much for this site. It is the one resource I have found that may help save my sanity and, if there is any chance left, my relationship also.
First of all, I have discovered that I have been depressed for a few years. From around the time that we lost our first baby, actually. Technically, we didn't have a baby, it was a late miscarriage. So late, in fact, that nobody (doctors, etc.) would believe it was happening until the sac containing the baby had descended so far it was plainly visible. This was 24 hours after being admitted to hospital, and being told many, many times that hysteria is common among new mothers and that there was nothing to worry about.
It was our baby. We had seen it move on the scans. We had pictures. We were already getting to know it. We had a pram, a pushchair, clothes and books - lots of books.
The post mortem said that he was perfectly healthy, nothing wrong with the placenta. Numerous tests on my partner (and a solitary blood test on me) found that we were perfectly healthy, and unlikely to lose a child in the 17th week of pregnancy. Go away, try again if you want to. Goodbye.
My partner researched, and the only thing that explained what had happened was a condition called incompetent cervix.
There we were, grieving, and then this blow to my partners self-esteem. I was so busy supporting my partner, I buried my own grief.
The keynote row was only a couple of days before the miscarriage, although I did not realise it then. It was the one that I started, and at first we both blamed it/me for what happened. I don't remember us having any serious arguments before that.
After the miscarriage rows happened more and more often. They were about things that I was doing wrong, or forgetting to do, or not getting round to doing. They were all valid on some level, so I was always at fault/to blame. Therefore , logically, I was the cause, and the only way to improve things was for me to get better at whatever it was that I was getting wrong. I seemed to be getting more things wrong, becoming more forgetful all the time.
Was my partner suffering pni/d at this time? I don't know. I put it all down to grief, easy to do whilst I was feeling so guilty.
The next pregnancy took a long while to happen. I was having difficulty initiating sex, caused, I felt, by the pressure that I was under.
My partner told the doctor/consultant at the hospital about the incompetent cervix. He completely ignored her, promising that a late miscarriage could never happen twice in a row. I failed to stand up for my partner and insist that he take notice.
It did happen, again at 17 weeks. This time we got to the hospital at the first sign. The doctors were sure that the baby had already died, said we should wait for things to happen naturally. I made them do a scan that revealed that baby was alive, even as she was slipping out of the womb. I still relive the horror of that moment. It must have affected my partner really deeply, but I can't bring myself to ask about it - I still can't face that awful feeling today.
The hospital staff clearly had no idea how to handle this. They didn't seem to have any training for any situation other than a normal birth. I did my best to comfort my partner, only leaving her side to go home to feed the cats.
2 months later she was pregnant again. This time we refused to accept a male consultant, and we got the senior consultant, boss of the entire maternity department. A month later a top specialist for incompetent cervix also joined the hospital, and they both got on my partners case. (Anyone with similar concerns - get down to Nottingham City Hospital and see this specialist.) A range of drugs, including a blood thinner and progesterone, were prescribed. A cervical stitch to stop baby escaping. Fortnightly scans. A 4 month stay in hospital, with complete bed rest.
The rows stopped. We were hopeful for the first time in years. I did everything I could to support my partner, kicking up a fuss if her needs were not being met at the hospital. This was our last chance, so nothing else mattered.
In November our daughter was born. Beautiful, tiny (six and a half pounds) and healthy. Since then she has been the most delightful baby ever, and we both love her very much. She hardly ever cries, and has already learned to smile. Every time I see my partner talking/playing with her my heart melts, because this is the picture that I have always had of how it would be. She is the perfect mother. I don't do to badly as a dad, either. I can change a nappy, and feed the baby, which I do at every opportunity.
Oh yeah - that was the thing. Feeding the baby. Breast-feeding didn't go well. I mean really, really not well. Tears of pain during feeding, bloody scabs, the works. After about three weeks, we had to switch to bottle feeding. I don't think that I really appreciated how big a blow this was to my partners self-esteem. Then one night I took the baby downstairs for a 3am feed, and stayed downstairs with her, feeding and changing as needed, whilst my partner slept.
The ensuing row was about how I wanted to prove that I could look after the baby on my own, that I didn't need my partner. The rows got worse and worse, often for very petty things. The one that culminated in the words above was about interrupting her whilst she was working.
I am losing it. I get confused all the time. I sleep long and wake up tired. I have difficulty talking coherently. My work is affected. When my partner wants to talk, I can't say anything - can't even marshal a sensible thought in my head. There are many other things that match indicators that I found in a link called "are you depressed?" Until a few days ago I didn't really believe in depression.
Recently, I have reverted to my childhood method of dealing with bullies, during rows, which is to shrink away, shut down, become numb. I can't let this continue, as it is even more counter-productive.
I dread going home.
My partner needs help, but I think I am too shell shocked to be of much use. We don't have a support network. My partner cut herself off from her family and her friends because they didn't have her best interests at heart. She runs her one-woman business from home. My family and friends all live a long way away. If I leave she will have no-one, but if I am the problem then I should not stay. I can't bear to think of leaving her alone, like this.
I have no plan for going forward, beyond researching pni/d, which is how I got here. Like other posts here, I know that if I mention pni/d to my partner, it will be wrong.
Looking after my partner, or looking after myself, I think that the two things are not separate. To do one in a way that does not promote the other will, I think, be unsuccessful.
This morning I complimented her on how she communicated with our baby. Also, disagreed that the horizontal stripe on her sweater did nothing for her, said she looked quite good in it. This only slows the slide, buys a little more time.
Any suggestion for going forward will be gratefully accepted. If you worry that you may be pointing out the obvious, something a probably already know - don't (worry, that is). In my present state I have probably missed the 10 most obvious things.
Thinking this over, I decided that PNI/D was a possibility, and started to do some research. Thank you so much for this site. It is the one resource I have found that may help save my sanity and, if there is any chance left, my relationship also.
First of all, I have discovered that I have been depressed for a few years. From around the time that we lost our first baby, actually. Technically, we didn't have a baby, it was a late miscarriage. So late, in fact, that nobody (doctors, etc.) would believe it was happening until the sac containing the baby had descended so far it was plainly visible. This was 24 hours after being admitted to hospital, and being told many, many times that hysteria is common among new mothers and that there was nothing to worry about.
It was our baby. We had seen it move on the scans. We had pictures. We were already getting to know it. We had a pram, a pushchair, clothes and books - lots of books.
The post mortem said that he was perfectly healthy, nothing wrong with the placenta. Numerous tests on my partner (and a solitary blood test on me) found that we were perfectly healthy, and unlikely to lose a child in the 17th week of pregnancy. Go away, try again if you want to. Goodbye.
My partner researched, and the only thing that explained what had happened was a condition called incompetent cervix.
There we were, grieving, and then this blow to my partners self-esteem. I was so busy supporting my partner, I buried my own grief.
The keynote row was only a couple of days before the miscarriage, although I did not realise it then. It was the one that I started, and at first we both blamed it/me for what happened. I don't remember us having any serious arguments before that.
After the miscarriage rows happened more and more often. They were about things that I was doing wrong, or forgetting to do, or not getting round to doing. They were all valid on some level, so I was always at fault/to blame. Therefore , logically, I was the cause, and the only way to improve things was for me to get better at whatever it was that I was getting wrong. I seemed to be getting more things wrong, becoming more forgetful all the time.
Was my partner suffering pni/d at this time? I don't know. I put it all down to grief, easy to do whilst I was feeling so guilty.
The next pregnancy took a long while to happen. I was having difficulty initiating sex, caused, I felt, by the pressure that I was under.
My partner told the doctor/consultant at the hospital about the incompetent cervix. He completely ignored her, promising that a late miscarriage could never happen twice in a row. I failed to stand up for my partner and insist that he take notice.
It did happen, again at 17 weeks. This time we got to the hospital at the first sign. The doctors were sure that the baby had already died, said we should wait for things to happen naturally. I made them do a scan that revealed that baby was alive, even as she was slipping out of the womb. I still relive the horror of that moment. It must have affected my partner really deeply, but I can't bring myself to ask about it - I still can't face that awful feeling today.
The hospital staff clearly had no idea how to handle this. They didn't seem to have any training for any situation other than a normal birth. I did my best to comfort my partner, only leaving her side to go home to feed the cats.
2 months later she was pregnant again. This time we refused to accept a male consultant, and we got the senior consultant, boss of the entire maternity department. A month later a top specialist for incompetent cervix also joined the hospital, and they both got on my partners case. (Anyone with similar concerns - get down to Nottingham City Hospital and see this specialist.) A range of drugs, including a blood thinner and progesterone, were prescribed. A cervical stitch to stop baby escaping. Fortnightly scans. A 4 month stay in hospital, with complete bed rest.
The rows stopped. We were hopeful for the first time in years. I did everything I could to support my partner, kicking up a fuss if her needs were not being met at the hospital. This was our last chance, so nothing else mattered.
In November our daughter was born. Beautiful, tiny (six and a half pounds) and healthy. Since then she has been the most delightful baby ever, and we both love her very much. She hardly ever cries, and has already learned to smile. Every time I see my partner talking/playing with her my heart melts, because this is the picture that I have always had of how it would be. She is the perfect mother. I don't do to badly as a dad, either. I can change a nappy, and feed the baby, which I do at every opportunity.
Oh yeah - that was the thing. Feeding the baby. Breast-feeding didn't go well. I mean really, really not well. Tears of pain during feeding, bloody scabs, the works. After about three weeks, we had to switch to bottle feeding. I don't think that I really appreciated how big a blow this was to my partners self-esteem. Then one night I took the baby downstairs for a 3am feed, and stayed downstairs with her, feeding and changing as needed, whilst my partner slept.
The ensuing row was about how I wanted to prove that I could look after the baby on my own, that I didn't need my partner. The rows got worse and worse, often for very petty things. The one that culminated in the words above was about interrupting her whilst she was working.
I am losing it. I get confused all the time. I sleep long and wake up tired. I have difficulty talking coherently. My work is affected. When my partner wants to talk, I can't say anything - can't even marshal a sensible thought in my head. There are many other things that match indicators that I found in a link called "are you depressed?" Until a few days ago I didn't really believe in depression.
Recently, I have reverted to my childhood method of dealing with bullies, during rows, which is to shrink away, shut down, become numb. I can't let this continue, as it is even more counter-productive.
I dread going home.
My partner needs help, but I think I am too shell shocked to be of much use. We don't have a support network. My partner cut herself off from her family and her friends because they didn't have her best interests at heart. She runs her one-woman business from home. My family and friends all live a long way away. If I leave she will have no-one, but if I am the problem then I should not stay. I can't bear to think of leaving her alone, like this.
I have no plan for going forward, beyond researching pni/d, which is how I got here. Like other posts here, I know that if I mention pni/d to my partner, it will be wrong.
Looking after my partner, or looking after myself, I think that the two things are not separate. To do one in a way that does not promote the other will, I think, be unsuccessful.
This morning I complimented her on how she communicated with our baby. Also, disagreed that the horizontal stripe on her sweater did nothing for her, said she looked quite good in it. This only slows the slide, buys a little more time.
Any suggestion for going forward will be gratefully accepted. If you worry that you may be pointing out the obvious, something a probably already know - don't (worry, that is). In my present state I have probably missed the 10 most obvious things.