Life Is A Rollercoaster...living with PND and absolutely nothing to do with Ronan Keating.

I thought it was about time I broke the silence...I realised I hadn't posted for a while but there are reasons behind this.
1. as usual I don't seem to have enough time to fit in all the 'normal' stuff let alone any of the more enjoyable stuff like blogging!
2. I haven't been in a very good place. I don't mean literally like Prestatyn (I apologise to anyone who's from Prestatyn but last time I went it was dreadful) I mean unfortunately what's going on in my head. More of that later...

Prestatyn earlier.

So this last few weeks have been full of ups and downs. We are stupidly busy at work which is obviously a good thing but can be very stressful. With constant deadlines and orders to complete whilst juggling childcare the endless school events and trying to run a home - it's exhausting.

My family are fabulous. The boys are a complete joy...ok the teething is a 'mare and the 5 hours sleep every night are tough but one look at those big brown eyes and all is forgiven. However I have been fighting my own battle since Charlie was born...Post Natal Depression.

3 days after giving birth I was ready for home!

Looking back I now know I had it pretty badly after Alfie was born but it was never diagnosed. Mainly because I didn't speak to anyone - I thought that must how things were after having a baby for the first time and I should just pull myself together. The fact that I cried every day for the first 6 weeks and didn't leave the house would have been a BIG clue but I soldiered on. I do think other factors played a role in this dreadful period not just the hormones. I had a major op to have Alfie and it really knocked me for six. The recovery was long slow and very painful.  

'Classical' C-section stitches

Alfie almost starved in hospital (he was dangerously close to being blue-lighted back to hospital once we had our 1st midwife visit at home) I blamed myself for this - I couldn't even give him my milk...I felt a complete failure. Turns out because of the trauma my body had been through the milk just wasn't there and the nurses who had forced me to breast feed (and yes I do mean 'forced') on the maternity ward had insisted he was getting plenty. I will never forgive them for that. As a new mum I felt totally lost and the people who were supposed to know what to do had only made matters worse. 

Week old baby Alfie in 2007

It was my wonderful family that got me through. One midwife who had reduced me to tears  was escorted off the premises by my mum and I thanked her for that. Steve couldn't bear to see me suffering so we switched to formula and Alfie thrived. 

Thank God for formula

It makes me furious even now that breast-feeding is so forcefully thrust onto new mothers and that you may as well be giving your baby poison if you even consider bottle-feeding! That's how strongly I feel. I'm not an idiot. I know that a mother's milk is the most natural wonderful source for newborns and I would have loved to have been able to feed my boys but if there is NO milk to give (or even if a mother doesn't feel comfortable) there should still be the support. Not in my case and I know plenty of others who have faced similar circumstances. You choose to bottle feed...you're on your own.

5 hours after giving birth I finally met my 2nd son

Thankfully when it came to Charlie I was much stronger in my mind about MY choices for MY baby and although I still tried to feed him naturally once I'd come round from the anaesthetic the same thing happened. There was no milk to give and I insisted that they fetch me a bottle. One nurse still treated me differently after this decision but I couldn't care less. One of the midwives on my ward was my saviour and I remember her coming to see me saying "well, after what you've been through I'm surprised you even tried" - I could have kissed her! She was super supportive to every mum on that ward regardless of their choices and initially it helped me. However once we settled back into home-life I began to struggle. 

At home with baby Charlie last June

I visited my doctor as I thought I just had low iron levels again...I was utterly exhausted. He suspected PND and this time I was actually quite surprised. Yes, there had been tears and yes, there had been some very unhelpful medical professionals yet again (almost a year on from giving birth and I still haven't had a check up even though my stitches were agony and the massive fibroid remains) but I actually felt fine in myself. Within weeks of speaking to my doctor I hit rock bottom - I wanted to leave. It all felt perfectly normal that I should just walk away. Not because I didn't love my family (I adore my family!) but because I was adamant they would be much better off without me. 

My beautiful boys

Steve is my rock

My parents are amazing

There have been some extremely dark days but with my family's help and a couple of brilliant friends to listen to me rambling on and letting me cry on them I'm getting there. I have been back to see my doctor and I'm getting the help I so desperately needed. Even writing this down makes me feel very emotional and there are plenty of days when I still feel like a total failure at everything but it is getting better and I know one day I will truly conquer this demon.

I'm hoping that if anyone else reading this is suffering with post natal depression please don't feel ashamed. I wasn't sure if I should write this post but I know I can't help what is going on in my head and neither can you. Please go and talk to someone, a doctor, friend, anyone - don't suffer in silence.

I recently read a truly horrifying blog post about a mum with PND who had literally thrown herself from a multi-story car park. She lived but has to live with what she did every single day and it's heart-breaking. This post still has me in tears and I am so happy that Sian sought help and is now doing amazing work in Niger helping families in dire need of food and water.

This was an extreme case but if left undiagnosed PPND is a possibility. Please don't let it get that far. All mum's are amazing and should you need support then take it. You owe it to yourself for being brilliant and bringing new life into the world.

You can read the full 'Baby Sunroof' story here

A Birth Story: The Baby Sunroof

I've thought long and hard about this post - I wasn't sure whether I should share my experience but I decided that it may give someone hope if they are going through something similar and that would be a good thing. (I should warn you now that there are going to be some quite graphic images, so if you're a little squeamish, do not read on!)

I finally got together with the love of my life in my late 20s but after spending several years building up our business, my thirties crept up on me very quickly. Before I knew it I was 35 and although we'd spoken often about having children, the time just never seemed right. All of a sudden, we realised it was now or never. Luckily, I conceived fairly quickly and we found out I was expecting our first baby in July 2006. So far so good...no problems and the first few weeks of pregnancy were a breeze. The only slight worry was my size - I had to start wearing maternity clothes at 8 weeks because of the size of my bump. Had I got my dates wrong? How many babies were in there exactly??

At 12 weeks we went along to our first scan. We were excited but nervous at the same time...Was the baby OK? What if it was twins or more?! What came next was a shock but extra babies weren't the problem. The sonographer had found a 'mass'...my blood ran cold. What kind of a mass?? Thankfully our baby was fine but the 'mass' turned out to be a very large fibroid. I hadn't even known it was there and once I'd spoken to my consultant, he was amazed I even got pregnant in the first place.  For that I was extremely grateful as I've since found out how much trouble even very small fibroids can cause...many can't conceive if they're present in the womb.

safe and snug

As the pregnancy progressed, I grew rapidly but in my first-time-mummy mode, I didn't think about the fibroid too much. I knew it was there but I was in no pain and I was sure it wouldn't cause any problems. After having a tour of our local midwife-led unit, I was excited that maybe I could have a water birth - something I'd always quite fancied and the birthing pool was wonderful! Tra la la I went in my ignorance until a meeting with the consultant changed everything.

Apparently I was a bit of a medical marvel...my consultant had only ever seen a fibroid this large once before in the whole of his long career as a surgeon. With the pregnancy hormones raging the fibroid grew and grew - no one was quite sure just how big it would get. The consultant explained that where the fibroid was sitting was my biggest problem, not just the size. If it had been above the baby, then maybe I would have had more choices, but the fibroid was low down and had basically blocked all available exits...the water birth was out. So was a 'natural birth' of any kind.Ok, I thought, so I have to prepare myself for a caesarean...I can handle that. The consultant shook his head...a normal caesarean was out of the question too as there was no way to reach the baby. I could feel tears beginning to prick at my eyes...how on earth was this baby coming out?? I looked over at Steve - he looked as confused as me. The consultant said that the only option was for a 'classical' caesarean - a very rare and risky procedure that involves a midline longitudinal incision which allows a larger space to deliver the baby. Basically I was going to be cut open straight down from just below my ribs to about 2" below my belly button...I was terrified.

The fibroid carried on growing until it was bigger than the baby - I looked enormous and I was extremely uncomfortable. At 32 weeks I was measuring 48 weeks pregnant - I was the same shape as Mr Greedy!! The fibroid was now measuring 17cm x 15cm

Luckily, apart from now being the size of a small planet, there were no other problems in the pregnancy. The tricky part was still to come and noone knew exactly how it would all pan out as the procedure was so rare.

As my due date approached (8th March 2007) dreadful thoughts started to plague me day and night. I prayed that I wouldn't go into labour early as the thought of an emergency c-section of this kind would be very dangerous. I tried to stay calm for both our sakes but I was gripped with fear. I couldn't wait for this all to be over.

Mr Greedy

My consultant booked me in for the afternoon of February 28th as he was also concerned about premature labour but had to leave it as near as possible to the due date to give baby every chance. I remember travelling to the hospital that morning...a 40 minute drive and I hardly uttered a word. I watched the red arrows fly overhead, I watched sparrows in the hedges as we hit a traffic jam, I listened hard to the radio...anything to take my mind off the inevitable.

The preparation for theatre began including lots of form filling. At this point, my one happy thought was that at least Steve could be in the room with me and we could both see our baby being born. I was under the impression that a spinal was still possible. Then the anaesthetist came out of theatre looking very concerned. He explained to us both that he was very unhappy to perform a spinal and my only option was to be put under general anaesthetic. I burst into tears...half an hour before surgery and every birthing option had been crushed. I was shaking as we walked through to theatre. Steve kissed me goodbye and went to wait on the ward. Just then, something very odd happened.... I felt completely calm. I thought I'd been given a sedative but apparently not. I think my body had just accepted that this was what was happening and was just 'getting on with it' Once all of the canulas had been inserted (3 in one hand, 2 in the other and a morphine drip in my arm), I was put under.

I came round in the recovery ward with a mask over my face and a blood pressure monitor squeezing my arm at regular intervals. I was quite spaced out on enormous doses of morphine and my first words were 'do we have a baby?' Steve showed me a little white bundle - he looked like he was holding a bag of fish & chips! Our beautiful baby boy was here - 7lb 12oz of perfection. We were both OK and the relief was immense.

Huge relief...

Recovery was incredibly hard - the pain was intense and I couldn't leave the house for 6 weeks, but our little Alfie Luca was totally worth it.

Alfie Luca

A few years later and the conversation turned to siblings. Could I really put myself through all that again? It took me a long time to come to a decision. Then in September 2010, we discovered that I was pregnant again. We were overjoyed but obviously the fear was still there for me - after having spoken to the consultant before even trying for another baby, I was fully aware that I would have to go through the same procedure. But I didn't want Alfie to be an only child and so at 12 weeks, we found out that Alfie would be joined by a baby brother.This time, the pregnancy was much harder. I grew to enormous proportions again but this time my ankles were permanently swollen, I could hardly walk with the weight and pain in my pelvis, I had horrendous heartburn and sleep was out of the question!

Getting ready for an awards ceremony in London - 20 weeks

There were lots more tears and lots more tests this time around including a very unpleasant 45 minute MRI scan- so claustrophobic, hot and noisy but necessary to find out if I had a condition called Placenta Accreta where the placenta becomes embedded in previous scar tissue thus making it extremely difficult to remove without massive blood loss. Thankfully, I got the all clear but the MRI showed just how shockingly big the fibroid had become. I was around 24 weeks at this point and the fibroid was much bigger than the baby.

There was also a tearful visit to a new anaesthetist who desperately wanted to keep me awake during this next operation. However, once she had explained that the spinal may not work because of how high up the surgeon had to begin cutting and there was a possibility of discomfort (how do you define 'discomfort'??), I started to feel very uneasy. She also said that if anything went wrong, I would have to have a general anaesthetic anyway and I definitely couldn't put myself through that kind of terror. I wanted it all done quickly and safely under general anaesthetic again.

32 week bump

Measuring 48 weeks pregnant!

This time I was booked in for the 'classic' c-section just 4 days before my due date (6th June 2011) As the date got closer, I prayed once again that labour wouldn't start. I arrived at the hospital very early on June 2nd and baby no.2 was delivered safely at 9.46am weighing 9lb 1oz. Our beautiful second son, Charlie Noah was finally here and this time I couldn't describe the relief of waking up and seeing my family...it was all over.

The second op somehow seemed much better, even though I had dreaded going through it all again, I wasn't in as much pain. Apparently, the anaesthetist had used a new method of pain relief - by using ultrasound to detect the nerve endings in my abdomen, painkiller was then injected into them.

recovery room...lots of morphine

Charlie Noah

I needed help once I returned home as I wasn't able to lift anything (including baby!) and my stitches took a long time to heal. Steve had to inject anti-bloodclotting drugs into my stomach once a day for the first week which was very painful but he did a better job than the nurse!

Our gorgeous baby boy is now 3 months old and thriving. My stitches have healed but I have a long recovery ahead of me. I'm trying to stay as active as I can and the fibroid is beginning to shrink.

The Baby Sunroof

The full horror!

There's no chance of the fibroid being removed without a full hysterectomy so I will just have to live with it. I look back at the photos and think about what I went through to get here but my little boys are my everything and I would do it all again for them.

On the road to recovery

Our 4 year old loves looking at Mummy's 'snitches' and hearing about how he and his baby brother came out of the Baby Sunroof. I feel incredibly lucky to have my sons