Skip to main content

A letter to my post-natal depression

I will not loose against this.

I am ashamed  to see you again.

I thought we went our separate ways a long time ago.

I paid my dues, letting you taint the first 18 months of my first son’s life.

Now, here you are once again as I embark as a new mother of two.

I feared you, and what you would do to me again.

You overwhelmed me.

You consumed me.

You changed me, I didn’t recognise myself anymore.

You scared me, and from the look in his eyes of how I was acting, and what I was saying you scared my partner too.

There was so much darkness in me.

You made me resent my own children.

You made me believe I couldn’t cope, that I was a failure.

You had convinced me I was a rubbish mother.

You manipulated me, and controlled me.

I didn’t sleep because of you.

I wasn’t eating because of how you made me feel.

You made me feel like I couldn’t face anyone.

You got your way and isolated me, you had me to yourself.

You trapped me.

You made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love not even my own children’s.

You constructed fantasies of me leaving my family.

You put a voice in my head that they would be better off without me.

You re engaged my anxiety, I felt like I was swimming against the tide every day when I woke up.

I felt like it my fault you were here again, why couldn’t I just be a ‘normal’ mother?

You made me question everything.

There was one thing you were not counting on, and that is the fact I knew who you are, what you could do.

I knew how to beat you and I knew I could do it.

It may take a while but I will not let you win again.

There will be dark days to come, but there will be so many good days too.

You are not part of me, you are just something that has a temporary residence inside me.

You will not be there forever, you will not control me for long.

I know I am normal, and I am not alone.

I am a good mother, with or without you.

So, this letter is to say, I accept you but, you are not who I really am.

And frankly PND you are a complete b***h.



Popular posts from this blog

Dear Elijah, on your fourth heart day

Elijah the heart hero never letting anything stop him. Today  is your 4th heart day. It's 4 years since we took you down to Great Ormond Street for open heart surgery. It seems to have crept up on us again. Another whole year has passed but it hasn't changed how I feel about that day. Some have said that oh, by now surely you should have gotten over it after all it's been 4 years. The answer is I don't think I ever will. I have been thinking a lot about that day, where I signed the consent forms for them to take you and operate on you. To either save or take your life. That day was the worst of my life, the unknown certainty of whether you would come back up again. I held you as they put you to sleep. They gave me your dummy as they took you from me and laid you on the operating table as if you weighed nothing. I couldn't even kiss you goodbye in case it was the last time. That's why I won't ever get over it and those who have been in the

The obligatory birth story

Eighteen months have passed since our beautiful little miracle emerged (I say emerged because 'vigorously ripped out' doesn't have the same ring to it). The rollercoaster of the past year and a half has somewhat levelled off, and things have become almost normal. Now feels as good a time as any, for me to confess (to HONESTLY confess) what it's like to give birth, become a mother, and cope with the joys of reflux, teething, milestones and TODDLERDOM! And how having an NICU baby with a heart defect makes these things all the more stressful. Oh, and there's also my increasing fear that Elijah is Damien from the Omen, with his endless antagonising of our cats. I will save the nine glorious months of swollen feet, constipation, and eating chocolate on the sofa, like a whale (whilst watching RHOBH in my pants) for another time. This is the story of how Elijah was born. To be honest, after watching numerous programmes on TV, they make it look like, once your 

Day One - Diagnosis

Disbelieving the diagnosis. Every day for 28 days I will be taking part in the  #chdphotochallenge over on my Instagram but I will also be blogging everyday too. Today, is day one and the theme is Diagnosis. I can remember vividly when we recieved Elijah's diagnosis of CHD and Tetralogy of Fallot. It is a day I don't look back on fondly. We were visited bedside by the consultant on the maternity ward. We were told via diagrams that Elijah's heart wasn't working correctly. There were numerous structural abnormalities which were causing his cynatic episodes. In layman's terms his heart leaked back de oxygenated blood, there was a hole that would need to be repaired and thickening of the heart muscle too. The terms overwhelmed me, I didn't know what they really meant for my baby who was fighting for his life. Receiving the diagnosis was the day our lives changed forever. We were no longer new parents but heart parents of a CHD bab