Siobhan’s postnatal anxiety story
I wanted to share with you an experience I had after the birth of my first baby, in the hope it raises awareness of how common it is to struggle mentally in the postnatal period. If you’re going through it right now, I hope this helps you feel less alone and encouraged to open up and ask for help. Shame and silence are so intertwined and exacerbate one another; if we can be brave enough to be vulnerable and say ‘hey this is hard’ we allow others to admit the same.
Siobhan’s experience as a young mum
When I had my first baby, I put myself under immense pressure; as a young mum I felt I had to prove I was capable of being a parent and therefore was not inclined to ask for help. When my thoughts began to spiral I feared someone would take my child away and the thought of that happening was so devastating, I was too scared to share what was going on in my head. I think shame and fear are common reasons people don’t usually talk about intrusive thoughts. But actually saying it out loud and speaking to someone helps you to process what’s going on in your head. It’s a cliche but it’s true - a problem shared is a problem halved.
My first baby was born just after I turned 21. He was born at full term, a healthy weight and continued to meet all his milestones. He fed well, gained weight and even slept well. He pretty much slept from midnight - 6am from day one and by 7 months was sleeping 12 hours straight. For context, my fourth baby is now 1 years old and is yet to sleep a 6 hour stint.
Everyone told me how lucky I was to have a good sleeper but I, on the other hand, did not sleep well at all. I was petrified that something would happen to my precious baby. This fear was always heightened at night. It felt like my heart was beating outside my body, I frequently felt breathless, winded. The weight of responsibility for keeping him alive was overwhelming, as was the intensity of the love I had for him. He appeared so fragile and my biggest fear was that he would spontaneously stop breathing.
“I was living in a constant state of terror”
This fear grew and grew unchecked. I would check on him throughout the night just to make sure he was still breathing. I would watch his tiny chest move up and down, willing it to continue. I would set my alarm at regular intervals - sometimes every half hour - through the night. It didn’t make any sense, there was no evidence that regular checking would prevent a tragedy but I did it anyway. I followed the lullaby trust guidelines diligently and did everything I could do to reduce risk of SIDS. I bought a breathing monitor in a charity shop that would go under his mattress and alarm if it didn’t detect breathing, but it didn’t offer the reassurance I hoped. Someone once said in passing that a baby’s bedroom shouldn’t be too warm, that a baby would wake to let you know if they were cold but they couldn’t do that if they overheated. As a result I kept his bedroom freezing cold.
Frequently I would go to check on him and think he had died. My heart would lurch, I would feel vomit rising and I would grab him so rapidly he would jerk awake. Adrenaline would flood my body and take hours to subside. I was living in a constant state of terror. And that takes its toll. Like living in a war zone; you’re constantly on high alert. But there was no war zone or any imminent threat; he was safe, I was safe, but my brain was tricking me into believing this wasn’t so.
I would set milestones; I’ll stop checking at 6 months, 7 months, 8 months etc. But I couldn’t stop myself. It continued until he was 1 and even then it didn’t disappear overnight but slowly over time the anxiety subsided and I began to sleep again. With hindsight, I know I was suffering with postpartum anxiety. The sad thing is I now know there are things and people that could have helped. That first year could have been so much better. But I told no one. Not a single soul. Part of me didn’t want to share that I was having a difficult time because I was so determined to prove I could cope, but also, part of me didn’t even recognise that there was a problem. It became so normalised for me that I figured everyone else was probably doing the same; we all wanted to make sure our babies were ok at night.
I’ve gone on to have more babies and although there have been challenges, none have been as intense as the first time around. In fact I’ve become more relaxed each time and been able to enjoy the newborn days. The paralysing terror I experienced with my first, has instead been a period of peacefulness and quiet confidence with my fourth. But it’s not just the fact of having done it before that makes it easier, I now have tools at my disposal; medication, people I can speak to and the reassuring knowledge that I’ve been through this before and survived.
Where can you find postnatal mental health help?
I guess my takeaway is that if this resonates with you, if you’re currently struggling with spiralling and intrusive thoughts, if they are negatively impacting your day to day, please do speak to someone. A trusted family member or friend, your GP, health visitor, midwife or one of these helplines. It can get better. You are not alone and there is help out there. Finding things difficult doesn’t make you a bad parent; it actually makes you a normal one. Your mental health is not indicative of your capabilities as a parent. I can promise, the moment you start speaking up, you’ll realise just how common these things are. Remember the postpartum period feels hard because it is hard. You are not meant to cope or struggle alone. But also, please know that it gets easier and you will feel better.
