This blog post is for the mamas who feel like the dark cloud will never go away- because I promise you it will one day. If you read on, you will see at one point not long ago, I got to a really dark and scary place. I cannot imagine myself back there now, and can't believe how much better things have got. I really hope this helps someone to see that there is light at the end of the tunnel.
You see, before I had Bonnie, I used to hate instagram pages and blogs like mine. I would be like why are they moaning about how hard motherhood is? They are so lucky to even have a child, they kind of need to get a grip. I was all over the pages that showed the best bits about motherhood- the all butterflies and rainbows side, I used to think that's exactly how it SHOULD be, these mums are grateful for what they have and they are looking on the positive side. What I didn't think of was how different babies can be and how different each experience of being a new parent is. Don't get me wrong, I still love the instagram pages where the babies seem to be an absolute breeze and everything's rosy, because it's important to show the positive side of motherhood, but (I never thought I would say this) but it's just as important to share the not so nice experiences too. The thing is, saying your struggling isn't really 'cool' or a very popular thing to do. It doesn't get you likes and followers, which is why there's just not so much of it around. There may be a lot of people who get tired of my posts, and that's fine- I would have been the same to be honest. But if I am helping anyone at all then that matters so much to me.
At about 3 weeks, Bonnie developed colic. It just so happened that the day it started was the day Elliott went back to work. Looking back, it was just the unluckiest of timing that it had to start on that particular day. I had absolutely bossed the start of that day- I was up, dressed, hair blow dried, make up on, out the door, had had a battle with the isofix base and had driven to an antenatal meet up all by 10am. A dentist appointment later and also a food shop, I was on a massive high- this motherhood malarkey- I had cracked it!! (Looking back 5 months later, this makes me laugh as I still to this day haven't yet cracked it!) about 1pm I was sat breastfeeding Bon and doing an instastory about how well my first day had gone.
Fast forward to 6pm and my husband comes home to a screaming baby behind a shut door, I'm sat on the stairs naked (after attempting skin to skin) holding a towel on my leaky boobs crying my eyes out. I remember that day so clearly- she started crying at 2pm and cried non stop until 8. The next day it carried on like clockwork. 2pm hit and it would be at least 4 hours non stop every single day. During this time she would refuse to feed at all and was in such a state there was nothing I could do.
I tried infacol- which DID help. I found she would then go from 5-8pm non stop every day -3 hours was an absolute dream compared with the 4-6 hours I was used to. However it did take its toll on my relationship with my husband as by the time she had finished screaming we were both emotionally drained. She was taking infacol before every feed until about 14 weeks. The smell of the stuff now just takes me right back to those really difficult first 3 months!
The other thing that seemed to help was putting her crib on an angle- the Chicco next 2 me crib made this very easy to do. Bottles wise, she was only breastfed so I can't give advice but the bottles she has now are mam anti colic and apparently they are very good for colicky babies.
At some point between 4 and 8 weeks, Bonnie developed silent reflux. The crying in the evening turned into all day, and I mean all day. I remember for a period of about 3 weeks, maybe even a month, if she was awake, she was crying. She would never be awake and content. We even had to rebook her 6 week check as the doctor couldn't do it due to her being in such a state. The next week when she had it again, she almost had the same thing happen but the doctor just about managed to get it done. Plus I was sat there in tears and didn't want to have to do it again!
I spent that whole month constantly trying to get her to sleep so that I could leave the house. I could feel myself getting more and more down and my head just didn't feel right. I felt as though my baby had broken me; I had this black cloud over me that was getting darker and darker and I was DESPERATE to get rid of it. I was scared about how bad it was going to get to be honest. That dark cloud just wasn't me. The worst thing was around this time, visitors start to diminish- some never to be seen again- and the visitors I did have didn't stick around for long. At the time I remember thinking I didn't blame them- who would want to be around a screaming baby all day? Now when I think about it, it just makes me angry.
All of these factors added together made me reach an all time low. The worst it got was when I was sat in a baby sensory class and I remember being in almost like a trance- and I remember planning that when I got home I could hang myself from the top of the stairs as it's so hollow and goes from the bottom floor up. (My god I found that so so hard to type!) That thought shocked the hell out of me and I had to try and blink away my tears while singing 'say hello to the sun' and pretending that everything was ok. When sensory was finished I didn't know what to do with myself- shall I take up everyone's offer to go for coffee? Can I cope with her screaming her head off in public? Could I try to get her to sleep? Shall I just go home? Do I even trust myself to go home after what has just gone through my head??
Thankfully, this only happened on one occasion. I feel so so guilty about the fact that the thought even entered my head. I'm embarrassed and ashamed even. The feeding wasn't going well at this point either and I felt like a complete failure as a mother, as a person even and for that split second, I obviously could see no way out. However it did frighten me into doing something about it as I in no way wanted to ever feel like that again. I got home and googled all the support I could and booked a doctors appointment for Bonnie to look into what was going on and why she was so unsettled. This wasn't normal. I wanted to make sure she got better first before I moved on to sorting my own head out. This appointment was the start of her being on ranitidine. Once her dose was upped to the max it worked absolute wonders for us. It took various trips to the doctors and a hospital admission to see her getting better, but it helped her reflux so much. And as she got better, so did I. I am in no way saying that this is the answer. I would encourage anyone feeling like that to book a doctors appointment for themselves and to get help. I suppose I'm just lucky that that was a one off and that I managed to get better by myself.
Looking back, I probably did have PND- I would never have admitted that, as I come from a family who don't have time for that sort of stuff. Even the other week I mentioned something about post natal anxiety to 2 of my family members and straight away I was laughed at and told to 'oh get over yourself' and that's not a jibe at them at all because that's just the way they are and I love them for it. My parents have both in the past had chemotherapy/ radiotherapy treatment then got up and gone to work- I've always been very proud of their 'just get on with it' attitude, but let's just say sympathy is not their forte! (It's not really mine either to be honest but at least I know where I get it from!!)
On reflection though, along with my husband, we have done this first 6 months very much on our own. We haven't had the support that we had hoped for for one reason or another which we won't dwell on, and the fact that I have gone from the sort of thoughts I had in that sensory class to the mindset I am in today, I am actually extremely proud of myself. The way Bonnie is at the moment means I can enjoy her soooooooo much. She is my little joy, my absolute delight.
Those first 4 months were so hard, but so worth it too.
A.M.L
LaLa
x
