Dear Postnatal Depression

Dear Postnatal Depression,

I have so much I want to say so I thought I’d write you a letter.

18 months after having Little A I am still completely consumed by you. There have been many moments when I’ve felt like I’m finally in control of my mental health. Moments when I haven’t been held a prisoner by you. Then with no warning you grip harder and remind me that you are still very much present.

My motherhood journey looks very different to that of my friends who had babies at the same time as me. I know everyone’s journey is personal to them but mine is the odd one out because of you; because of Postnatal Depression.

I wish desperately that I could go back and relive all of the moments that now are a complete blank to me. The moments when at the time I felt like I was drowning under the weight of everything but those were the moments to treasure. That wonderful and joyous new born bubble that everyone speaks of I didn’t get to have because of you. I had a hard recovery which was only compounded by the fact that I felt completely detached from not only myself but my precious little boy. Many people don’t feel the instant rush of love that people tell you about when your baby is first placed on your chest. This is something I’ve learnt since opening up about my own struggles. I wish I’d known that at the time. I’d have given myself a break and not completely written myself off as a failure.

You robbed me of so many wonderful moments with my little boy which I should be able to look back on now and smile about. Instead I have very few memories of those early days. It’s as if my brain has been emptied of them. Those days when you are completely exhausted and your clothes are covered in baby sick but you’re so full of happiness and wonder. I can never get those memories back. They’ve been lost forever and that completely guts me. I will never ever forgive you for that.

Why did you choose me? I deserved to be free of mental illness just as much as my friends did. Why me? After a terrible pregnancy surely I deserved an easier start to motherhood. It’s not fair that I’ve had to watch others enjoying their babies and enjoying being a Mum when in those very early days and in my darkest moments I wanted to run away from it all. I wanted to go back in time and never get pregnant. I wanted to escape from the burden of responsibility and I hated everything that I’d become. I resented Little A for everything I felt I’d lost and blamed him for all the pain I was in.

My Mum and Dad have always told me that whatever happens, as long as I’ve tried my very best then I can never be disappointed in myself. I’d tried my best at being a Mum and I’d failed. Not only myself but Little A and Mr N. The more I consumed myself with feelings of failure and letting everyone down, the further down the dark hole I went. My Mum and Dad and Mr N would tell me all the time that I was doing a really good job but I just couldn’t see it. I honestly believed that they were telling me what they thought I wanted to hear. They were being nice. None of my actions would suggest anything other than failure.

For all of my 33 years I have proudly worn my heart on my sleeve. I’m emotional and I care deeply. When I’m upset about something I cannot hide it and I don’t do well with bottling up my feelings. You completely changed that. Because of you, I got very good at lying. Whenever anyone asked how I was, I had two responses that I would choose between depending on my mood. Sometimes I would reply and say I was fine. Sometimes I would completely ignore the question and instead talk about Little A or I’d ask about them. For someone who likes to talk and has always been very open I found this really difficult. I no longer felt comfortable telling anyone how low I was feeling, how much I was struggling and worst of all how much I hated being a Mum. How could I tell anyone those things? What would they think of me?

You have been a part of my life for 18 months. I feel like I’ve been forever changed by you. I used to be so bright and positive and loved life and I feel like that person has gone missing. That person has been replaced by someone who is full of anxiety and fearful of everything, someone who constantly feels like they’re living under a dark cloud, someone who cries all the time, someone who has no time for anyone else. I hope one day that amazing woman will find her way back but for now you win.

Thankfully me and Mr N have a strong foundation and it would take a lot more than what you’ve thrown at us to break that but you have definitely made things difficult. Mr N has been juggling a full time job and a baby and all this whilst having to watch me drown. I cannot imagine how tough it’s been for him. I hate that you caused all this. Mr N deserved a better start to his fatherhood journey. I worry all the time that Mr N is ashamed of the person I’ve become. That he misses the woman he fell in love with. Any confidence I once had in myself you have completely stripped me of. You had no right to do that to me.

I realise I’ve spoken a lot about all of the things you have taken from me. I needed you to hear that. I’ve lived through some seriously dark days but I’m still here. Because of you, I’ve found a strength I didn’t know I had. I’ve hung onto life with everything I have even when I’ve felt completely broken and when I’ve been unable to see any other way out. I know one day I will beat you. I have never been more determined to do anything.

When I had Little A all I felt was numbness. I had no feeling whatsoever. Once I’d recognised I needed help and began to open up to people, I remember telling them that I felt as though I was looking after someone else’s baby. I actually disliked him. All of my friends spoke about their babies with such love and I used to feel jealous that I didn’t have that. I wonder if they used to look at me with Little A and think I was in love just like them. I got very good at acting the part of the new Mum who loved everything about her new life. I used to cry with my Mum friends but I would describe it as a symptom of sleep deprivation. They were all so happy how could I tell them the truth?

I wonder, now that you’ve been such a huge part of my life whether or not I would spot you appearing in the life of someone close to me. Mums are good are hiding things that they worry they’ll be judged for. Postnatal Depression is something no one wants to admit to. I hope by being so open it will encourage other parents in the same boat to reach out and not be ashamed.

Despite you trying absolutely everything to keep me detached from my baby, the rush of love did come and it was wonderful. It may have come a few months late but it came. I love him with everything I have. I can also finally see that he loves me back. I always assumed that he disliked me as much as I disliked him. I could never fully comfort him like Mr N could and I always believed that was because his feelings were mutual. I’ve come to realise that he has always loved me. I’m his Mummy and he knows that. That was certainly a life changing moment.

During the good periods that I’ve had since having Little A, I’ve appreciated everything so much more. Every smile, every laugh and every cuddle because I didn’t get to enjoy any of that in the early days. Being a stay at home Mum is tough especially during a pandemic but I’m lucky enough to have the time to be able to make up for the lost memories.

I’ve come to find comfort and solace in Social Media which I never thought I’d say. #PNDHour on Twitter takes place every Wednesday between 8 and 9pm. Each week a different topic is discussed. I’ve never met a more amazing group of people. Unbelievably strong men and women who have suffered just like I have and are open and honest about their struggles. It has made me feel less alone and I never would have met any of these people if it hadn’t been for you. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I’m grateful for you but that’s one good thing that has come from my battle.

I’ve used my own experience of battling this horrible illness to write this blog. It’s been like therapy for me writing down all of my thoughts and feelings and has hopefully helped to raise awareness of maternal mental illness in general. If one person reads my blog and realises they’re not the only one feeling that way then that makes me feel proud. You are at your strongest when parents feel too ashamed to reach out for help and by writing about you I hope that one day there will be no stigma in admitting that you’re struggling.

Postnatal Depression, I will beat you one day. I can promise you that. As long as I’m surrounded by love and support, you will never win.

Mrs N x