I have been given full permission to post this on behalf of a mum from my group, who wanted to share her experiences.
I always said that I didn’t want children due to a bad upbringing. That I always thought I’d make a terrible mum. Up until my daughter was a year old I still thought this. I first found out I was pregnant with my first on 30/01/09. I will always remember this day like it was yesterday, as I totally broke down. I called my partner straight away who tried his best to reassure me, that I would make a brilliant mum and he would support me all the way.
A few months later we broke up, so panic started to set in and I found myself constantly thinking how was I going to cope on my own. Everyday turned into a battle with me crying and telling myself that I didn’t deserve my little one inside me. I decided that it would be better for me to move back to my mothers house so I could have support but this just made things worse.
On the 22nd September 09 my contractions had started. By the time we got to the hospital it was time to push. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to face the fact that I was going to be a mum. Hannah was born at exactly 10am, I remember all I wanted to do was run out of the delivery room. I couldn’t. My body was shaking from head to toe and the nurses just wanted me to latch my little girl onto my breast for her first feed. While I was feeding all I could think was this is not my little girl. I don’t deserve her. What if history repeats itself? I was in hospital for 2 days, but most of the time I spent it off the ward. Walking around the hospital and going outside for a smoke, I just didn’t want to be near her.
Me and my daughter got home late on the Thursday afternoon and I just broke down. Reality had kicked in. I was a mum and I had to do my best by this little girl. I put all the negative thoughts and feelings to one side and picked up my little girl and made her a promise that I would try to be the best mum I could be.
Things were going great for a few weeks. I made sure me and my little girl were up, dressed and out the door for our morning walk. It wasn’t until just before my 6 week check up that I started to feel very down. I didn’t want to do the things I used to and just wanted to stay inside. Night feeds were a real struggle to the point where my step-father had to come get me out of bed to feed her. This just made it worse as I felt like I was being a bad mum. That I was subduing her to neglect. My mother started to make things alot worse by checking and interfering everything I did. Was she dressed properly? Did I put her blanket on her properly when we went out? Have I fed and changed her? Things were just too much.
I decided that maybe I was better off getting my own place, so no-one would interfere. I needed the chance to bond with my baby with no-one in the way. If I knew now what would have happened then I wouldn’t have made that decision. Things just got worse when I moved into the new house. I just felt so alone. My next door neighbour was lovely and always there to talk to especially as she was a single mum too. I never discussed how I felt towards my little girl. In the end I admitted I had a problem to my health visitor and my ex partner. I went to the doctors a few days later and my ex partner moved into my spare bedroom for moral support. Once again with tablets and counseling I felt I was on the mend. I remember the counselor telling me I was good enough. I was a good mum and to tell myself that everyday, all I could do was laugh.
As time went on I stopped going to counseling, stopped taking my tablets as thought I was better and strong enough to beat my PND. I was wrong. My ex started being controlling towards me and made me feel so low. Especially when it came to my little girl. Telling me I was doing things the wrong way. I gave up, I started shouting at him saying she’s not mine, she does not belong to me. I was only a surrogate. I walked out the door with the intention of never to come back. I was gone a while but I don’t know how long. i just remember that something was drawing me back to the house.
The next day I found myself sitting in the garage in my back garden, weeping away, my ex came to get me as the baby wanted a feed. I just pushed him away. I didn’t want my baby anywhere near me. This resulted in a big argument leaving me feeling worthless. I felt everyone including my little girl was better off without me. I went into the bathroom, locked the door. I decided to end my own life. The next thing I remember is waking up in hospital the next day scare. Why had I done this? My little girl needed me. This was the shock I needed to sort myself out, not just for me but for my little girl, my little angel.
Hannah is now 18 months old and its still a struggle some days but I have learnt now not to ignore how I feel and to get the support I need.
- Living with Postnatal Depression and Borderline Personality Disorder (therealsupermumblog.com)
- A mum speaks out: How child abuse effects a family (therealsupermumblog.com)
- A dad speaks out about his volatile relationship with his mother (therealsupermumblog.com)
- Sexually abuse aged 7 I share my story for the first time (therealsupermumblog.com)