My life with 3 children under 5 and post-natal depression

Hello dear PB friends (and a warm welcome to the newbies). This post has been rattling around in my brain for weeks, if not months. Some of you may recall this post when I mentioned my diagnosis with post-natal depression (PND), just over a year ago. Recently I mentioned here about how my PND has become worse recently. I think it’s time I filled in the gaps for you about how I’ve coped during the past year. I’ve been prompted to write this post today both to acknowledge a dear friend’s bravery right now and to mark Postnatal Depression Awareness Week in Australia.

Thanks for the inspiration for this image, Kerry 

What is PND?

The helpful Australian organisation, PANDA, notes that ‘PND can be a devastating and debilitating illness that can persist and affect not just a new mother but everyone around her. PND is not a modern condition. Each generation calls it something different. What we call PND today may have been called a 'nervous breakdown' 50 years ago’. Another excellent Australian organisation, beyondblue, observes that PND ‘affects almost one in six women giving birth in Australia’. PANDA’s website notes that PND:

• can happen after miscarriage or stillbirth, normal or traumatic delivery, or caesarean delivery; 

• happens not only after a first baby. It can occur after a third or fifth baby. Sometimes it happens after a first baby only. Sometimes it happens with a third baby, but not with the first two. Sometimes it happens after each pregnancy; and

• can be mild, moderate or severe and symptoms can begin suddenly after birth or appear gradually in the weeks or months during the first year after birth.

Lovely little toes

What are the symptoms?

According to beyondblue ‘PND has the same signs and symptoms as [ordinary] depression’. The situation is, however, made much more complex by also having a baby to care for in the midst of the mother’s distress. Common symptoms include:

• a loss of interest in food, sex, exercise or other pleasurable activities;

• increased physical health complaints like fatigue, pain, headaches, chest pain or difficulty breathing;

• changes in the mother’s diet, sleep and activity levels which result in her being less well nourished, exhausted and overly or less active than usual; and

• high levels of anxiety which reduce the mother's immunity and ability to fight infection.

What is the treatment?

An essential help with your medication

The sooner a mother is treated for her PND, the faster she can recover. The type of treatment will depend on the mother’s degree of PND. However, commonly a combination of medication and psychological treatment is used. See here and here for more information.

What does living with depression feel like?

Before the pixies were born, I had depression twice, caused by work and health problems. I managed to function at a very high level as a lawyer without anyone knowing. I’d then return home and curl up into a ball, crying. I developed agoraphobia. However, with medication and professional help, I made it out to the other side of that blackness. After many years of heartache, we experienced the joy of the pixies’ arrivals. My doctors warned me of the possibility of developing PND. However, until Sam was born, I managed to dodge it. Then we moved to Hobart with 3 children under 4 including 6 week old Sam. As I mentioned here, my diagnosis with PND came from left field.

What does living with PND feel like?

Remember what this feels like?

I find PND so much worse as there are the very real and practical implications of having the pixies to care for as well as myself. It feels like I am viewing life through a filter of detachment, like when you go to the optometrist's and they place the different types of lenses in front of your eyes. I feel disconnected from people and situations. I know I’m present and alive, here in the moment, but I just can’t feel anything. I feel numb.

How does PND affect my life?

The PND informs everything I say and do. It’s ever-present. I’ve stopped wasting energy getting annoyed about having it. Now I accept it and try to work around it. Mr PB is extraordinarily supportive and understanding. He is a beautiful person. I couldn’t get by without his endless love and support. Here are some of the impacts on my life:

• I have to really concentrate on remembering to take my medication on time. That can be hard in the hurly-burly and noise of PB.

• I need medication to get to sleep. My sleep is of paramount importance in order to have just enough energy to get through the next day. That means Mr PB tends to the pixies at night. The past year has been hard for him as we’ve had Joshua’s night terrors every night for about 9 months and Sam waking several times a night. Then the poor fellow has to turn around and go to work every day.

• Thanks to my medication, I rarely wake before 7 am. As the pixies rise as early as 6 am, Mr PB has to look after them every morning from that time.

• Normally, I am very organised, neat and focussed. Now I’m forgetful and struggle to even remember to write a to-do list, let alone actually follow one. I don’t have the energy to worry about things like dusting and cleaning to my usual standard. Mr PB does most of the ironing and cooking. 

My life as a list

• I normally value keeping in close contact with friends and remembering their birthdays. Now I struggle to remember that I haven’t spoken to friends for ages, let alone remember to contact them.

• I usually make a special effort to write in the pixies’ babies’ books, take photos to mark milestones and just generally do very thoughtful things for them. I’ve hardly been able to do that for the past year. I feel terribly guilty that Sam is missing out. I hope Mr PB will be able to help me ‘catch up’ on all those things soon.

The pixies each have one of these

• I use any extra scrap of energy I can muster into focusing on Sam, my last baby, to make sure I don’t ‘sleep-walk’ through his early years.

• Until I feel better, I can’t contemplate returning to work so our life on a single income will continue for a while yet.

What treatment am I having?

After over a year of trial and error, my doctors have finally worked out the best combination of medication for me. I have regular appointments with them. As long as I get my sleeping back on track (which means less hours in Blogland), I should continue to improve. It’s a long road. I don’t know how much further I have to walk. But all I can do is keep putting one foot ahead of the other.

By writing this post and making my situation public, I’m taking a leap of faith. However, I think the more people talk openly about PND, the easier it will become for its sufferers to cope. It’s hard enough living with PND, let alone also having to battle with the attached stigma. So, has that answered some of your questions about PND, my PB friends? Do you want to know anything else? Maybe you’ve had or have PND yourself or know someone who has. I welcome your comments – let’s help each other out.