Realising what is causing damage

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One of the things that I have started to realise over the last few weeks, is that there are certain things that trigger emotions and reactions within me that I don’t expect. I have realised that some people live in their own bubbles and miss what is going on in other peoples’ lives. Sometimes this is intentional, and sometimes this is completely unintentional. And this really sucks.

It makes me put up barriers in relationships as I take personally things that were never intended to be personal. That were written without any thought of me. And that is ok. That’s how it should be. But I need to find a way to cope with this and to accept that these are not aimed at me.

This has also made me more aware of what I share and how it can be perceived by others. It’s about remembering not everyone has the perfect relationship, had the perfect childhood, has the best relationship with their parents. Not everyone gets their happy ever after. Some people have to kiss a lot of frogs. Some people are having to discover who they are. I am still having to discover who I am.

At the moment the only way I can cope with this is to put barriers up and shut myself away. Cut myself off while I re-evaluate where I am at, and give myself time to recover. And I know that this then confuses people. It isn’t easy to explain to anyone, it’s just how it is at the moment. I don’t always understand it myself. I just know when it happens that I cope the best way I can at the moment.

This week I have had to deal with a middle of the night panic attack for the first time ever. It was scary. I don’t know what caused it and I didn’t know how to manage it, but I managed to get myself back under control after a couple of hours. The only way I have been able to cope since is to stay where I feel safe – my home. I have seen a couple of people, but in my space. I know I will have to face the fear of going out again soon, but that battle is for another day. The anxieties running through my head some days are crazy! They are often irrational. They are almost always unfounded.

I can’t explain the ins and outs of PND for everyone, or say how each individual will be affected. All I can say is what affects me. For me anxiety and obsessive and controlling behaviour are 2 of my big “symptoms” of the post natal depression. I don’t understand why, and i really don’t understand the nuances of it at times – why the position of a knife in the kitchen drawer will drive me crazy, but i’m ok putting away a sock without a pair for example. It’s illogical, and I know it is illogical, but it is how my body is and I am having to learn to manage it.

Writing this blog helps me express where I am at. At times I struggle to vocalise it, even to my amazing husband. But I can write it down. My only hope is that my musings and downloading of how I’m feeling helps someone else out there.

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A fine line….

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I’m discovering how there is a really fine line between me feeling up and me feeling down. I often don’t know when I am close to teetering over the line. I am starting to recognise the triggers though. As I posted a few days ago, I have had a really positive few days. But I also knew that this didn’t mean I was permanently back on the up.

This afternoon I have felt myself sliding back down. Parenting three children (and yes my teenager is still my child) is a juggling act. As I have said before, all 3 have different needs and demands on my time. This week I have been having to manage a toddler who has had an allergic reaction to another food. As a result, he has been crabby, clingy and just not himself. Juggling that with a 6 month old who is trying to reach further, move more, do more, but constantly toppling, and also needing greater input and awake for longer, has been exhausting. The break in the madness was then going out for half an hour to pick up the teenager! But all of this, combined with an early start, and a full on, but highly enjoyable day before, has dragged me back down.

I am still having to learn where to draw a line and give myself a break. When I topple over the line, I find myself getting into bad, negative cycles. I start to compare myself, my life, my children with those of others. I compare with friends, with relatives, with strangers who post in random places on social media. I get myself down because I feel I am failing my child(ren) because they are not achieving their maximum potential.

I struggle because my baby isn’t keen on eating, when my friend’s child who is younger will chomp through 3 meals. I struggle because my toddler isn’t as eloquent as other children his age. I struggle because I can’t do with my children everything I feel I should. I struggle because I don’t want to leave the safety of my house. I want to stay in my safety blanket. I know I need to find space to stop and take a break when this happens, but it is finding the safest way to do that.

I know I made a mistake when I got to a similar point when my toddler was younger. I cut myself off from people completely, and nearly lost completely some very valuable friendships. This time I am trying to get the balance right. To be able to take a step back without cutting everything off. I’m still not always getting it right, but I am trying, and I am learning.

I hate the struggles that PND gives me. I hate the impact it has on my life at the flick of a switch. But I am learning that I there is a trigger, and I am trying to stop the switch being flicked.

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The fear of the scales

This contraption has been the cause of some of my biggest problems since giving birth. It has caused me panic attacks, it has caused tears, it makes a fear bubble up inside me every time I have to get her weighed.

I know that the fear stems from the first few weeks of her life, when every time she hadn’t gained weight they would be sending us back to hospital. But it has left a deep rooted fear that I will be judged and comments will be made if at any point she drops off her weight curve. Things like get bringing up more milk than normal after feeds because she’s full of mucous from a cold or she’s been gumming lots and creating acidic saliva make me worry. I dread the times when we have to put her on the scales.

As I’ve said before, my health visitor is amazingly supportive, and she’ll come to the house to do the weighing, rather than getting me to go to tbe clinic, where I’ve had meltdowns because I’m panicking. But I still have to get her and her brother weighed every time we see the dietician.

There is no easy fix at the moment, and like all my other anxieties it’s made worse by tbe post natal depression, but it doesn’t take the fear away. Like everything else, it’s another fear I have to overcome, and each of them is a baby step.

Please don’t think you know the answers….or have a strop cos you don’t get a cuddle!

Parenting for anyone is a journey.  It has highs and lows. Every day is another point of learning, of frustration, of joy, of laughter, of tears. For me, the last few weeks have been more of the lows and the tears than many would expect. My parenting journey has been an emotional challenge, that I was hoping it wouldn’t be. In the last 8 weeks I have struggled as having my daughter has not been the perfect time that I had dreamed it would be.

I know that at times of upheaval and change I have an even greater desire to be in control and for things to happen in the way I had expected. I also know that when it doesn’t I struggle with myself, my feelings of disappointment, and my urge to have everything in control. I also get more anxious as i feel life spiraling out of my control. I end up hitting rock bottom. I can get very depressed, and I find each day a challenge.

At the moment, most days are a challenge. Getting myself and my children dressed in the mornings often feels like a great achievement. To get out of the house, is an even greater task, both in terms of emotional preparation and in terms of physically getting there.

But in all these challenges I can keep hold of my children – with my baby this is often currently a very physical thing. I need to hold her for reassurance, but also so I know that I am not missing her cues for need of provision fro me – be it food, communication, space to sleep. I know people think they are helping me by offering to hold her, to take away the “burden” of having to do it all, but at the moment, I need to. When I feel safe and secure I will ask for help. I will ask for someone I trust to hold her, but I won’t just pass her around for cuddles.

With my toddler, it’s being able to give the cuddles, make the dinner, provide the stimulation required, sit on the floor and do the jigsaws. I need to know I am still meeting his needs. I also need days where all we do is chill together watching movies. I need to know I’m getting things right.

With my teenager, I need to know that I can still be there for him. I need to know I can drive him to college occasionally.  I need to be able to check in and chat over the day. I also need to be able to sit back and let him be the near adult that he is. I need to enable him.

And in amongst it all I need to be a wife that can support her husband. I need to be able to do bits around the house so that we can still function.

I know people will say to stop, let go of the feeling of have to, share some of it. But the reality at the moment is that at the moment I can’t. I haven’t got there yet. So sometimes I need space and that is where I am at. I am getting support from the right people, and I know I’ll get there in the end. I’m not always getting it right for the world, but right now it’s right for me.

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Would like it to be straight forward, and would like some positive affirmation

Some days I feel like I just want to go back to bed and start the day or the week over again. I really dread taking Niamh to any of her routine check appointments at the moment. I dread  lifting her on to the scales to see if she has gained weight, if she’s gained enough weight, if she’s still sitting on the same growth curve.

For those not in the know, babies weight is marked on a centile range chart, with tracking lines starting from 0.4th and going up to the 99th centile. Niamh sits under the bottom line for her weight. Every time we see a new professional – be it the “duty” health visitor  at the weekly weigh-in clinic, or the GP for her routine 6 week check, a doctor in hospital – they all comment on the fact she isn’t on the chart. They don’t comment on the fact she’s actually gaining weight steadily, and at the rate they would expect for all other babies, they just comment on the fact she is small. As a parent, I’ve found this exhausting and draining. I feel like i’m being judged as a parent – both in what my body can do naturally, and my choices to breastfeed over formula feed.

I also feel more anxious about each appointment. I know, due to having issues with self confidence and anxiety, that I take things more personally than others. I know that I need more affirmation at times that I’m doing it ok. I will hold my hands up and say I know this isn’t easy on those around me, and I also don’t say that  I need it or when I need it. It’s not straight forward, and it’s affected by my emotions, my tiredness levels, my stress levels, etc etc etc. But I also think that the professionals need to sometimes look at how they talk to parents and pass comments on things and realise that hearing something like – your daughter is tiny, and we need to monitor her weight – repetitively isn’t great  at building them up as a parent. For them to give positive affirmation to a parent seems to be too costly.

In amongst it all I am very grateful for a supportive community midwife and a supportive health visitor, who have championed me and fought my corner against others. My health visitor has even held me when I cried tears of relief because Niamh gained a reasonable amount of weight for the first time ever.

I am ever grateful for the patience of my husband and eldest son, who cope with this so well at times. I know i’m unpredictable and things like being anxious over appointments make some days trickier than others. I also know I am great at not telling people around me what’s going on inside. Sometimes I don’t even know what is making me feel worse. But I am learning too.

 

No 3 arrives….and life is anything but easy

11 days ago we welcomed child number 3. Our beautiful daughter. After a difficult pregnancy, including 3 times a week hospital visits, nausea that got worse rather than better, weekly scans, gestational diabetes and insulin injections, we hoped that post birth we would be back in the normal swing of parenting.

Instead we have had 11 days that have been quite stressful, very emotional, and very exhausting. In fact without the support of some amazing friends I think we would have completely fallen apart. We have a little girl, who struggled to gain weight. At 5 days old she had lost 15% of her birth weight, which meant an automatic same day referral back to the hospital, and another 3 days staying on the maternity ward, having all aspects of feeding scrutinized. When we arrived, we were stressed as parents as we could see that our daughter was unwell. In fact she was at the start of a diabetic hypo. Her blood sugars had dropped very low and she was unable to respond properly to feed. We hadn’t even seen her eyes open properly.

I can honestly say I felt like a human cow! I was instructed to express milk between feeds for “top up” bottles, and to then also feed my daughter 3 hourly – I would even be woken overnight to make sure there was not  longer than a 3 hour gap between the start of each feed! Funnily enough by 2am, when I hadn’t actually slept because there was no time between feeding and expressing, I was emotional, exhausted and very frustrated.

I felt I was being treated like a first time mum that had no idea what they were doing. It also felt like my history, and the medical history of  my other children (both small and both late to gain weight in the first couple of weeks of their lives) was being ignored. I was physically pushed and pulled around to make sure my daughter had a perfect latch. I was emotionally expected to be a robot and just do as I was told. I was expected to only focus on the 1 child. Yes, my baby was my focus, but I was also very aware of my nearly 2 year old who had by then been away from me for the best part of 7 days out of 9 (including the days I was being induced.) It was hard work. I also had to watch my daughter have blood taken from her every 3 hours, plus more for other tests. All were necessary to make sure that there was nothing more serious wrong, but all were hard.

When we were allowed home, it was with a lot of negotiating about the community care we would receive, and me having to prove I could feed my daughter. I was left feeling like I was wrong for wanting to be with all of my children. I wasn’t asking to take our daughter away from medical care she needed. In fact, all they were going to do if we had stayed in was leave us in a private room, with me feeding and expressing, to reweigh our daughter another 48 hours later! I just wanted to be home.

Little did we know, that 48 hours later we would be back again. This time, I stopped hiding my emotions from the medical staff! It meant some of the conversations required tissues and physical support from my husband, but actually it meant the medical staff stopped and listened. I shared about why I wanted to be at home, and also about my medical history and how we had been working to help me avoid post natal depression this time around. Instead of readmission, to leave us in a room with me just feeding and topping up feeds with formula (not our first choice at all, but the compromise we’d had to come to for our daughter’s health), and with a toddler who would be even more upset that mummy had “disappeared” again, the staff agreed to let us do the same at home. Even the midwife agreed that there was no benefit to us staying in as all other test results came back clear. But ironically, we first had to prove we could give our daughter a bottle feed before  we could leave!

Our amazing friends had come over to help our teenager with the toddler, and had cooked us dinner. Coming home to freshly prepared food was amazing. When you are emotionally exhausted, you need to be looked after. When you know you have a history of depression and post natal

So  it has been tough. Our daughter is a total joy, and watching both boys bond with their sister is wonderful. But I can’t sit and say that the first few days have been a wonderfully new baby bubble. I have been up and down on an emotional journey, that was, at times, made harder by the hoops that the medical staff made us jump through to prove we were capable. Being a parent of a new baby isn’t easy at the best of times, but things can make it harder. Now at 11 days old it looks like we have turned a corner, celebrating a 110g weight gain today as a huge achievement.

Allergy fun…..when all the best plans…

This weekend we had the total privilege of witnessing the marriage of one of my longest standing friends. It was an amazing weekend, but that kind of event for us always comes with a few stresses.

Our friends were amazing in their catering planning for the weekend, providing lots of food for me to eat with my allergies, and lots for my eldest son too. We had agreed in advance we would provide the food for the toddler, as we know it is hard to cater for all his allergies.

So with all the best laid plans, there also comes for me a level of anxiety as to the what-ifs that can happen. And we survived the first 24 hours without a hiccup. But with 21 other people around, who are aware to a point, there is always going to be a degree of risk. With a mobile toddler though, you at times need eyes in the back of your head!

We don’t know what, or when, our little guy picked up something he shouldn’t  have, but somehow he ate something he was severely allergic to. An unhappy, itchy baby was bad enough, but the sickness that followed was on another level. I was so grateful for the help of new, but wonderful friends, who jumped up to help so we could sort out a very unhappy little boy.  As ever what amazed me was once his system had rid itself of the allergen, and he was cleaned up, out little boy was back to his happy, chatty self! He tucked in to more, safe, food, and merrily chatted away to people.

We will never know what he ate, if it was a known allergen, or a new one, and that makes it tricky, but what I am learning is that we can only do so much. There will always be a time when there can be errors and slip ups. We try to minimise the risk as much as we can, but we also want our little boy to enjoy life and have as many similar experiences as other children as he can. But we will also spend time raising awareness with others about the dangers of allergies.

No, he currently doesn’t have an epi pen – as currently all his known allergies are non-IGE. But that doesn’t mean one day his allergies won’t become IGE and result in anaphylaxis. It also doesn’t mean that even a small bit is ok. Too many times we have heard people say, “well a small bit can’t hurt can it?” The answer is yes, a small bit can do a huge amount of damage to his gut. As an example, testing mackerel – just a teaspoon of it – resulted in 4 weeks of his tummy being unable to hold any food!

Things are not going to be easy for a potentially long while. I will permanently be grateful to our child minder, who provides him with a safe environment which he adores. To friends who help us have safe play experiences. People who will have him to stay and even provide him with food, which is not always the cheapest or most straight forward option.

Living with allergies and living with a child with allergies isn’t easy, but it is what it is. What I am learning on this journey, is that I need to stop letting people make me feel like it is an inconvenience,but it is ok to be honest and say it is a problem.