Once upon a time when my first baby was born I took a knife to bed with the full intention of killing my partner.
It was Christmas 2004 and three months earlier I had given birth to my first precious daughter, I was also helping to raise my three beautiful step-daughters aged 3,4 & 9.
Whilst the three elder girls slept in their bedroom next door to me I sat over Betsy’s Moses basket whilst she screamed and screamed despite just being fed & changed & winded, I had repeatedly checked her temperature. I had tried to latch her onto my breast for a comfort feed, I had tried to swaddle her into me and I had left her to settle – but she still continued to scream. I was desperate and I had absolutely no support. I had never felt loneliness like it and I remember feeling petrified and alone, so alone.
I was drowning being a new mum and I wanted to give up.
My relationship was volatile & by now it was beyond shit & I needed help. I called my partner & begged him to come home & help me. I begged so hard I was on my knees and what went from silent sobs turned into a full blown panic attack. After he hung the phone up I received texts from my girlfriends telling me where he was and who he was with…and it tipped me.
I decided at that point I wanted to stab him to death, so I walked into the kitchen and I picked up a knife and I hid it under my pillow – a metre away from where our daughter slept – and I waited.
I look back at that situation now with a rational brain and I cringe, and I panic, it puts a lump of anxiety in my throat and fills my brain with a thousand ‘What if’s’.
What if he hadn’t have spotted the knife in my hand when he walked in the bedroom?
What if he hadn’t taken it off me?
What if I had actually killed him?
More than likely I would have ended up in prison, someone else would have raised my daughter and I probably would have never recovered and if I had would I want to?
But at that time I didn’t care…not one rational thought entered my brain when I made that decision that night.
And that’s the reality of what happens sometimes when you have a baby…during your pregnancy you decorate the nursery with an amazing theme, you pick tiny outfits, you wash muslin squares so they smell of fabric conditioner and you research the best sterilisers for this newborn baby that is going to make you beyond happy – because once they arrive all your dreams are going to come true.
Only sometimes that doesn’t happen; sometimes we end up being so unhappy and so unwell it consumes our entire being. We make horrific decisions and we turn into a person who becomes totally unrecognisable and at that time, when its happening to you, you feel like you are the only sane one living.
We need to talk more, we need to support each other, to raise these babies together and support the mothers who are having the toughest of times.
Right now it is Maternal Mental Health week & I have been asked by Olivia, the founder of The Every Mum Movement to help raise awareness for this shit of an illness after she herself battled with PND and postnatal Psychosis following the birth of both her children.
For anyone who is convincing themselves they are not suffering when actually you think there maybe a chance you could be please visit Liv’s website here: www.everymummovement.com
Don’t be afraid to ask for help, its out there. Please share this website.
#everymummovement #OneMum4EveryMum #maternalmhweek #pnd #postnataldepression #everymumpicchallenge