Postnatal Depression My Beloved's Experience

This post is from My Beloveds point of view, from his experience I have written it but tried to write it as close to what he said as possible. It is just HIS opinion and he does not speak for all men and he and I talk quite bluntly and truthfully to each other when it comes to women/men point of view, if you need to hear things in an incredibly tactful way, then you do not ask My Beloved his opinion as you will get it , nicely but bluntly. I have softened the conversation somewhat and he didn't elaborate to much more than what is written here.

When I read my last post about my experience with Postnatal Depression to My Beloved he joked about how no one knew how he had suffered for nearly two years with a 'nutter' of a wife.  'What ever!' I had laughed at him.

'No', he said to me 'I am serious. It can ruin marriages and when the men leave they are always the 'bastards' but it is bloody hard to live with someone who has Postnatal Depression. I mean if they have been together for a short time and then they have a kid together and the girlfriend/wife suffers from Postnatal Depression a lot of guys would just think this is just not worth it. I mean, you were acting like a crazy lady!'

'Yes OK, we have established that.' I always say to people when talking about the way I felt during my experience and looking back on it that I was a crazy person. The wording I use isn't exactly comforting in nature and I'd like to say that crazy is most definitely NOT the way I see or view people suffering from postal depression, I see someone that just needs a bit of help because I remember what it feels like, but when I think about the things I felt ( like the paranoia and even the only time I thought something very disturbing which was when I was driving home from a birthday party along the highway and I just thought I wonder what would happen if I just let go of the steering wheel? I was not going to and I had no plans to but I was concerned that I had even thought it!)  When I think about all that now I am amazed at how different I was thinking and feeling and how much I just was not me!

'From my point of view, and maybe not all men but definitely some men would feel the same,' My Beloved said ' Imagine you have come home from work whether it is every night or every few days or weeks and you have been working hard. You have to work hard because you are providing for your family, so you have all that stress as well and you come home to either a miserable crying woman and everything is a mess or maybe everything is clean but your wife is madly vacuuming the floors not really even acknowledging you. And just acting plain crazy. It sucks. You'd like to say for god sake go to the doctor and take some pills because you really need them! But you cant because you don't know how they will react, you cant say anything to them because they will either burst into tears or start screaming at you.

 It is hard because you can not fix the problem and you don't know what to do. If I helped you or tried to you either didn't notice or just yelled at me for how I did it or what I did. If I wanted to get you out of the house, you fought me on it. I kinda just gave up and just handled it. But some guys don't want to do that,it is really hard and they leave and I do not blame them at all. You should talk about that too. The woman is most definitely not alone in the suffering. I know that she can not help it but it should be said that the partner and the kids even suffer it too.'

'I'd feel bad for working but I'd have to work and I probably was even glad to get away at times too I'd be worried all the time and kind of dreading coming home. I don't know about all women but you wont let people help you and I couldn't do anything until you asked for the help and then I knew what to do because you told me what you needed me to do. Men are not like women we don't sit around 'putting' ourselves in women shoes saying 'oh I wonder how I would feel if I were in her shoes? Maybe I  should do this or this to help. Well I don't  Anyway, I just thought you should talk about how it can effect the marriage and the family too, maybe people don't think about it like that but it is very hard to deal with for everyone.'

When I asked My Beloved what he thought someone suffering from Postnatal Depression should do he said.

'Go to a doctor, take the medication they give you or talk to someone, because it is not just you suffering and if your partner knows what to do to help you, he will.'

Postnatal Depression My Experience

Yesterday I watched a Vlog by Naomi over at Seven Cherubs about her experience with Postnatal Depression. 

It made me think. It is something that effects up to 1 in 10 of women during pregnancy and rises to 1 in seven  in the months following the birth.  It is something that many women do not talk about as they feel a sense of failure as a mother. Postnatal Depression Awareness Week is about encouraging women to talk about their experiences of something that usually is suffered in silence and to end the stigma that is attached.

So I thought that I too would share my experience with postnatal and antenatal depression. I have been as honest and open as possible because you can not tell someone that it is OK if you can not be open and honest about your experience. I will start by saying not everyone wants to harm their child when they suffer from postnatal depression some feel the opposite way ( as was the case for me) I felt as though I had to protect my children from people trying to kidnap them or just 'take them away' from me. I know one woman who was waiting for her child's 'real' parents to collect him for many months, it effects people differently. There is NO shame in it and just telling someone can ease the suffering incredibly.

During my pregnancy with Little Miss (11 in January) I suffered from antenatal depression, I was not aware of it, even when I found myself sitting on my front veranda, head in my hands with tears streaming down my face. I remember thinking it was strange and I had no idea how long I had been crying or why. The pregnancy was my third and unlike my first two I was sick every time I ate for four months, I would gag every time I smelt meat cooking, yet would only be able to eat steak and mashed potato for every meal. I came down with what I now think was whopping cough and I coughed uncontrollably for the rest of the pregnancy and until Little Miss was 6 months old, day and night.

 Like the pregnancy itself the labour was traumatic and I will just say anyone contemplating a drug free birth is either very stupid or brave. I will also say to husbands of labouring women DO NOT put your hands anywhere near the bed frame, if your partner can not have pain relief shaking the frame of the bed helps, if your hand is in the way... well, it will hurt, a lot... you might even get a tear or two in your eye! After stopping three times on the way into the world Little Miss said hello by biting my nipple and I had a cracked nipple ( eventually both) for the next 8 months. After the birth and the nipple biting episode I just laid there with this new baby feeling nothing other than tired and when I think back a little numb.

It was not until Little Miss was three months old that I realised I had Postnatal Depression. My beloved worked away for sometimes three weeks at a time. I think even if he had of been home every night I still would have suffered as severely as I did but maybe not for as long, as he would have noticed my not sleeping for sometimes as many as three days and nights in a row. I was so paranoid about my children being kidnapped that if I went to a room baby went with me even when she was sleeping she was either in the pram or in a sling. I didn't want anyone to visit and if someone did I would mutter 'Oh for god sake what are they doing here.' I'd even consider hiding!

 I had head aches every morning, the skull stabbing kind and they would kick in at 9ish and not leave until well after five. I had to force myself to send The Man Child and Biggest Miss to school because I realised that no one actually was planning on kidnapping them, it was just in my head, but I couldn't really take that chance and I could never really believe that they were safe. Every single day was an excruciating, lonely  and yet at the same time numb experience. I started to obsess over certain things being done, for me it  was the dishes and the clothes washing. I felt that IF I could just keep those two jobs always done then 'everything  would be OK'. Of course there were days when nothing was done and I'd just lie on the couch with Little Miss and just not move.

I trusted no one and I mean NO ONE. Not My Beloved, not my friends, not even my mother and certainly no one outside of the family, every one was trying to take my children off me as far as I was concerned. When I did leave the house, which was very rare I put on a cheerful smile and pretended to be 'normal', unless you have had to do that, you truly have no idea how exhausting that is. When I did speak to people I was on 'autopilot' When My Beloved came home I would promise myself that THIS time I would just say to him.

'Adam, I have Postnatal Depression. I need to see a doctor.' But even though I would go into the bathroom and look at my reflection in the mirror and would give myself a 'pep talk'

 'Emma, you have postnatal depression, it is in your head, no one wants to take your kids. Tell Adam to take you to a doctor!'  I never could, because I didn't trust him either!

 So for 18 months after Little Miss was born I battled on telling myself in those moments of panic that it was not real and I HAD to go to a doctor.  Biggest Miss became seriously ill and I was  convinced she was going to die but luckily the doctors gave her the 'silver bullet' and she was much better I will not go on with that as it was the most traumatic experience as a mother. So awfully scary.

Instead when he was home I could sleep and it was because I obviously felt that My Beloved would be able to deal with any attempted kidnappings. ( Yes It sounds so ridiculous doesn't it, but it was very, very real for me at the time) I remember very little of those 18 months, aside from a few scary paranoid moments and a panic attack I had in the shopping centre which I remember clearly as the idea that I did not have enough money for my trolley of groceries became so entrenched in my mind that I stopped in the middle of the isle staring at the trolley then the register and with my heart beating out of my chest, I swear it felt as though anyone looking at me could see my chest bulge with each beat. I fought off this almost uncontrollable urge to grab Little Miss out of the trolley and literally run screaming out of the shopping centre.

 I managed to get the groceries without any payment issues, though the whole time I fought off tears and was convinced my card would decline. I remember only saying over and over to myself  'Keep it together Emma, You have money in your card. This is just in your head. It is not real. You are just having a panic attack.' I had to stop myself running with my trolley to the car and if I had of been able to actually feel something other then fear and panic I would have cried uncontrollably and just collapsed in a heap.

 There was the time I found myself hanging out my washing in the rain at ONE THIRTY in the morning because if I just hung that out everything would be OK. I would have to force myself to sleep and it was only from pure exhaustion that I ever did. There are so many other moments like that I will not elaborate or you could be here for a very long time.

The moment I realised that I must get help and tell My beloved was when I had my younger sister staying not long after Biggest Miss was out of hospital and Little Miss was about 18 months. I was starting to go longer between these 'moments' of panic and was a little less paranoid about the children being kidnapped, besides Little Miss had discovered that holding her breath as a tantrum was very effective and I had suddenly found a new paranoid fear, choking ( choking children is the one thing that gets me very unsettled, very easily).

I was watching TV with my sister and Little Miss started to stir ( she was on my bed ) I got up straight away as I didn't want her to fall off. I brought her out into the lounge room and breast fed her I remembered seeing  tea spoon on the bench, it bugged me so much that when Little Miss had finished her food I put her comfortably on the big floor cushion and got up to put the spoon away ( remember everything would be OK if the dishes and washing was done.) As I did that I suddenly remembered Little Miss had been stirring in the bedroom and went in to get her, of course she was not there as I had just fed her, but I did not remember that AT ALL and I was immediately convinced that the reason she was not on my bed was because she had fallen off and had died. YES you read that right. There was no emotion about it, it was to my mind a fact, it had happened. When I walked around to find her on the floor and she was not there, or the other side of the bed ,I went in a split second, from being convinced she was dead to convinced she was kidnapped and I began shouting to my sister 'where is she, where is she?' As soon as my sister told me Little Miss was where I had put her on the floor cushion in the lounge room I remembered it and I sat down and cried and knew I had to get help.

As this is incredibly long I shall post a part two later this evening it will be from My beloved's point of view he feels that it is important for people to realise that men suffer in away from postnatal as well, through their partners experience with it. If you are reading this and recognise yourself, a friend or partner do not delay ask for help you do not need to suffer on your own in fact I PROMISE YOU it will be so much better when you let someone know! There is no shame in it I do not feel bad for having experienced this I feel stronger because I managed to survive something I would not wish on anyone, ever! You are not alone! Talk to anyone but definitely see your doctor. Go to  BeyondBlue for more information.

Feel free to share your experience in the comments or with your friends lets get rid of the stigma and feelings of failure and weakness for those that suffer from it and those that do not.

'Suck it up princess' really only applies to kicking your little toe or bumping your funny bone it does not apply to PND

We Bought A Book

Mr Cheeky, Littlest Miss and I came home to find a parcel in the mailbox.

'I'll get it. I'll get it mummy!' Mr Cheeky shrieked as he unbuckled his belt and climbed over to the driver seat.

'Ok.' I said and opened the door, it is the same thing every time. I pull up at the mailbox and say 'Oh look, there is some mail. I wonder what it is?' Though it is usually bills these days, or junk mail, it makes no difference to Mr Cheeky collecting the mail is like the holy grail to him... he'd even collect all our neighbours mail from their mailboxes if I would just stop the car and let him.

'A PARCEL!' he said 

'A Parcel?' I said trying to remember if I had bought anything from eBay that had yet to arrive or if I had suddenly forgotten somebodies birthday. Then I remembered I'd bought a book.

I had briefly scanned over some reviews about the book  Vicky Arrives and the comments of it being a 'relateable' book for the commenter's children made me think I'd give it a whirl, 'What is the worst thing that could happen? I'd have another children's book in the house?' 

'Come on,' I said, 'Lets go read the new book.' Mr Cheeky is not usually a fan of sitting still and I was hoping that by some magical happening he'd see the book, become transfixed and sit still for at least half an hour.

 We sat down and we read the first of the of the four stories all about a little boy called Jakey whose mummy goes to have a baby, he meets her and they bring her home. The thing that Mr Cheeky liked most ( apart from Jakey being his 'friend' and Vicky being his sisters 'friend') was that Jakey had to share a room with his baby sister. 'Me too Mum, I share with Ava too!' he said. I liked reading it also, I could relate to the story to, in fact anyone who has had a baby and introduced them to an older child could. We read one more story called Nanna's Visit and it was time to organise homework, baths and dinner.

While the girls did their homework and the bath ran, I told Mr Cheeky to find something to do. You can imagine my surprise when it was sitting quietly reading.  Of course I stuffed that up by taking this photo, the spell was broken.

Proof of homework and reading being done, on this occasion without complaint!!

Homework was the feature for the next hour and those that had finished got to have a read of what was fast becoming 'MY BOOK' if Mr Cheeky was to be believed. The Man Child and Miss Independent were the last to finish ( The Man Child left his Xbox to help his sister make a 'poem' about sand, crab, waves and fish... he did not want to mind you). Mean while Biggest Miss read the book to Mr Cheeky and Littlest Miss and I made dinner.

Even Ava wanted to 'read' though at one point she did manage to get hold of the book and the corner went straight into her mouth. 'NO' Mr Cheeky said 'Don't eat it bubba Okay?' Littlest Miss just laughed at him.

On the whole the book was well liked everyone commented on what they remembered about the time I had come home with their younger brother or sister. The stories, Moving and Vicky's Birthday, meant I was asked when they were having their next birthday party, I told them it would probably be around the time it was actually their birthday.

So the book is definitely a hit here. The stories and pictures are perfect for Mr Cheeky and even Little Miss who thinks she is a teenager. It is a hard cover ( which means it will survive Littlest Miss occasionally getting hold of it). I am actually glad the link to buy the book was posted on our Facebook Page and if you want to know more about the book and the special offer of a NAME YOUR PRICE deal then go to Jakey and Vicky books I chose the hardcover and I am happy as my purchase means the Smith Family Foundations Toy and Book Appeal will have a book donated to them for disadvantaged kids. It is a win win really! :)

The two book marks that arrived with it were also a hit! Miss Thinker and Little Miss scored those!

I WAS NOT ASKED TO DO THIS, NOR DID/DO I RECEIVE ANYTHING FOR DOING SO.

Thrifty Thursday #2

Today being Thursday I figured I might do a Thrifty Thursday post. Now that I have a camera that takes pictures worth uploading I have been using up my MBs uploading photo after photo. This time I am sharing this cute dolls house I found at the recycles It has a chip in the bottom right hand side of its pitched, forest green roof and the odd sign of ‘wear & tear’ (read some kid had lots of fun) but apart from that nothing needs doing, it even has the lino flooring still inside.

I grabbed a few things while I was there I was looking for odd tiles so that I could start framing our doorways and windows but I found very little in that department and when I saw this I thought how perfect it would be for Littlest Miss when she gets a little older. All together I spent $5, I was very happy. I ended up giving it to Miss  Independent instead as her flimsy doll house she got for Christmas last year was getting flimsier by the day!

As I only had Littlest Miss on hand to photograph it this afternoon ( My Beloved took Mr Cheeky and the 3 little girls to the pool as a surprise after school today) I grabbed a few bits and dressed Littlest Miss all ‘Pretty in pink’ and had a ‘photo shoot’ under the fig tree in our front yard. I hope I managed to give you a good look at the dolls house (there were quite a few of just Littlest Miss) and to end I’ll put add one of my littlest Australian too!

Mr Cheeky's Morning Out

When Mr Cheeky is not trashing his room he is playing (as all 3 year olds should ) or asking to go to Pipi's house. Pipi is his name for my sister Rebecca. I think it was the name he gave her after she bought chips to our house one day when she visited and I suspect he was just trying to say 'chippie' but nevertheless the name stuck.

The boys played under the gum for about half an hour. They even ended up having sword fights and one of the little tackers played drums on my car... Shhhhhhhhhhhh, don't tell My Beloved! He won't like the sound of that! ( Oh  and YES you can see black spots on Mr Cheeky's cheeks, he was a tiger earlier in the day... so was mummy.)

Mr Cheeky played with two of his 13 cousins for the morning. The boys are all around the same age and usually get on very well. Today they played around the big gum in my sisters yard and around the
'fish pond'. I took some pictures and, because it is my blog, and I want to I thought I'd post some.

The boys can play for ages in this lilly filled pond. Today they had a great game going. 

Til next time

At What Age Should A Child Be Responsible For Their Room?

Because I have always been a glutton for punishment I have always expected certain things from the kids and been pretty cruisey on others. I only have two hard and fast rules, they are Bed Time is 8.30, unless your very little or over the age of 14 then it is 10.30- you do not come out of your room for fear of death after those times unless you have slept a good 7 hours (more preferably).That and do what I ask you to do when I ask you to do it. Cleaning bedrooms has always been in the latter rule book. I may not ask for three days because the room does not need it or I may ask several times in one day.

Lately however it seems that between Mr Cheeky and the girls' room there has been no habit of picking up after themselves, not a very good one at any rate. So I wondered to myself when I cleaned Mr Cheeky's room today Is it unreasonable to expect a three year old to keep their room clean? I have always tended to think awwwww they are still so cute and 'wittle', but I am the only one and making a rod for my own back (of this, I am aware).

The few I have asked this question to all seem to believe TWO years old is an appropriate age to be responsible for their own room. It isn't considered child labour! Who would have thunk it! I have also never been one for the bigger kids dealing with the babies in the house, though getting a drink or sandwich for toddlers has been acceptable whilst I have dealt with the babies demands,even then I felt like an evil witch, though lately I have appreciated and even asked Biggest Miss and The Man Child to play with Littlest Miss each afternoon whilst I cook dinner or finish off what ever job it is I MUST get done. So expecting my three year old to pick his crap up isn't so bad after all. By my standards, I am aware that by others it never would have been or even is a bit mean and each to their own.

Mr Cheeky's room inevitably looks like the first picture at the end of the day and it starts out like the second picture. 

When I talk to people starting out having kids I always say do your self a favour and get them to pick up after themselves it is not 'mean' to expect them to Though I have realised I have not taken my good advice... A lot of the mess in Mr Cheeky's room is clothes the toys have been culled and most 'live elsewhere'. So I am going to bite the bullet and EXPECT him to clean his room for now on.

What do you think? What age is the right age for your child? Please leave a comment (there is no captcha) and let me know how you work it. :)

The Boudoir

I have said to a few people lately that if you see a picture of our bedrooms then you can be sure that there was some tweaking ( a hell of a lot of tweaking when it comes to the bedrooms) I like to keep it real, but in a censored way. This post, for example will show you pictures of the spaces we call ‘our’ room. It does not look as nice for long, it slowly but surely descends into a chaotic mess with in a week or weekend ( which ever comes first).

I think I'll be doing up more of these collages they make our bedroom look as though it has some style about it!

What bought this on? You may be thinking. Well you know I am gonna tell you. I was going to buy a kingsize bed. But alas, I am no longer. It is very frigging depressing let me tell you! So after sulking for a little while I decided to make our room ( the sleeping quarters) into something I like. My Beloved may not like the male mannequin hanging from the brick wall he laid, using commons that I refused to let him render. Or, in fact the wig ( I have yet to put it away) I have hanging from the ‘bedhead’ made from an awesome room divider I found at a garage sale three years ago.

The 'Bedhead' is a room divider I bought for $80 dollars it is very heavy and the inside of each oval and diamond
 has a wrought iron 'flower'... I am going to put some fairy lights over it to add an real romantic feel for after dark...they can also double as a night light for the kids. We often wake up to at least one in bed with us.

So awesome the room divider/bedhead was to me, that in my rush to come home and collect it (we didn’t have a van then) with the trailer I completely ignored the fact that My Beloved was sleeping in that morning ( I promised) and drove up our driveway and behind the house towards our bedroom beeping the horn the whole way. Strangely he did not share my excitement and it took forever ( a whole cup of coffee kinda forever to get him to hook the trailer up) EVEN though I suggested he just ‘throw’ it on and I’d do the rest.

I LOVE this window, sadly when the girls were using this room the chocolate render has chipped away
 on the bottom of the wall but I have an ingenious plan for all the doorways and windows in our house
 ( An assortment of decorative and plain tiles to border and frame each doorway and window and hopefully
give off a Mexican 'vibe'.) So until then... I am also planning on planting the garden  back from the window
 getting a pathway laid between the two so we have a beautiful view AND privacy! Won't that be nice!!

He may not even like the way I have not put one masculine item in the room. But what he WILL love about it is that there is a clutter free space to pass out into unconsciousness after his night shifts each weekend.Well, this week end for sure I can't make any promises that the room will stay like that til next weekend.

You see, where the ‘sleeping quarters’ are is what used to be our back veranda. We Ahem, My Beloved knocked the sliding door out and with the help of my brothers, father and a one time ‘boyfriend’ of my sister’s they bricked it up and wallah! We had a sleep out. Eventually we made the sleep out into two rooms. What is our bedroom was originally going to be our office, then it was to be Littlest Misses room.

I love this mirror I 'scrapbooked' it and hang anything and everything I love on it.

It is as close to split level as we can get without going underground ( wouldn’t THAT be cool?) and that small little step down coupled with the fact we took the legs off the bed base to lower the bed makes the small space seem large and spacious, the ceiling to floor windows and the fact there are only three walls also help I will admit. But we will all just pretend that the lowering of the bed did it. OK?

3 of my favourite pictures.

Peace lillies are one of the plants that are said to purify the air, though they are in here because they look puuuuuurty!

Not long after we bricked in the veranda... Miss Thinker was 3 and Miss Independent was 4.