I am writing this piece so I can reach out to other mothers that are either going through PND as I had. It’s my honesty and it’s pretty real, something I never thought I would go thru but I did and I am sharing the rawness of it with you. Only a few selected knew I had been diagnosed with it and it’s those few that knew that got me thru it. I had mentioned in a previous blog that I had it but this is the feelings towards it….
I have 4 absolute gorgeous kids whom I would walk to the ends earth for. 2 grubby teenagers and a set of B/G fraternal twins.
July 2015 – The day my twins were born by caesarean. 5am I had gotten up to take a leak and as I jumped back into bed, yep my water had broken. It was time but they were not due for 5 weeks and I was unsure what hospital they were going to take me to so I went to the local one. I had messaged my work managers to let them know “The Boss” will be in hospital giving birth to a set of twins and not to tell the team as yet. By 9am I was in agony and didn’t know if I could push 2 babies out I was shitting bricks and wanted a caesarian.
My first-born was an emergency ceaser as his fat head and big ears got stuck, my second born was a la natural with about 20 students watching on but this time I had no idea what I was doing as the hospital wanted me to go naturally but I didn’t want to esp as the pain was unbearable – and I have a pretty high pain tolerance. When they finally gave me what I wanted I was wheeled to the operating theatre to get prepped. Given 2 spinal blocks and 2 puffs of gas as they took it off me man that shit is the bomb 🙂 assholes…….
Then I was taken in and ready to rock and roll, I had about 10 Dr’s in with me and I was awake and I have never been awake with my eldest so I had no idea what was supposed to happen. Their father was eventually bought in and he stayed up my end. There was a big ass sheet in front of me and I could see the Dr’s heads but had no idea they started hacking away at me. Then all of a sudden I heard screaming coming from a baby. My boy was out and he cried like banche and was so bloody loud. He was only 6pd3oz which is about 2.8kgs, average size for a twin and he was 5 weeks preemie . My first-born was a whopper at 9pound something so he was tiny.
2 minutes later my only baby girl was born, mind you she was not ready and I watched them burst the sac she was in. Blood went everywhere. I didn’t hear her cry, I heard nothing. I seen Dr’s racing over to her and her father as well. I wasn’t told anything except she is ok. I was all alone with no one beside me to tell me what was going on, it was the longest 4 minutes of my life whilst they were giving her oxygen to keep her breathing. I only found this out as one of the surgeons sat beside me cause he could see the panic in my eyes and the silent tears rolling down my eyes. He told me everything that was going on. My heart was racing and then I heard her cry, I don’t believe in god but boy did I pray hard. The twins were brought over to me and that’s when I broke down and just cried at her. My lil fighter had fought thru. She was so tiny, the tiniest baby I had ever had. She was 5pd15oz which was 2.2kg- I can only tell you she felt like I was holding a bag of rice.
The Dr’s took the twins away to the special care nursery as she had to be put in a humidicrib for 24 hours and no one was allowed to hold her whilst she was put on oxygen. I was still in surgery getting desexed (tubes tied) and then into recovery for a couple of hours to make sure I was ok. I had no one in there with me as they were all waiting outside, I did have a nice nurse come and see me every now and again and the surgeons but nothing spectacular.
When I was finally allowed to see the twins in SCU it was heartbreaking. I had a wave of anxiety run through me and my heart was beating to fast and I thought I was going to cark it but I got told it was the anesthesia wearing off. I was allowed to hold Matteo as he was thriving and I got to breast feed him and hold him and look at him and play with him but I was also sick. They gave me some cordial and a sandwich but that all got thrown up on anyone that was near me. As I was holding Matteo I never got the chance to hold Zoe as she was in her safe Lil oxygen bed. I couldn’t smell her, touch her or even stroke her hair. All I could do was look. I just cried – I wanted to hold my lil warrior but wasn’t allowed to for 24 hrs. It was the worst feeling ever, especially being violently ill and not being able to keep anything down at all.
The nurses were great and let me sleep that night as they bottle feed them for me as I was continually throwing up all night. That night I had visitors but they only saw the fucked up side of my vomit and spit and whining that I wanted food but can’t keep it down. My poor dad copped a bit on him but just re washed the spew bag and gave it back, I did tell him i can get a new one.
As everyone left, I was left alone in a room all by myself. Thats when it hit me. FUCK. How am I going to do this if I’m going to be sick all the time. I can’t hold my babies and I needed sleep. I couldn’t sleep as I was worried, I had no one to talk to except the nurses that kept coming in bugging me to take temp and give me drugs 😉 but let me tell you. They were my angels that helped me. I remember I couldn’t sleep so I asked can I see the twins and a nurse took me in the preemie unit so I could nurse Matteo at least and watch Zoe. There were babies in their from all walks of life. The angel nurses gave me hope that I can do it.
The next day Zoe was allowed out as she was breathing so much better as they turned the oxygen down on her and I got to hold her. She was the most precious lil doll and so tiny. She had the heart of a fighter and the body of starved-looking child. She was bandaged up with oxygen still up her nose but she was getting stronger everyday and I nicknamed her my Lil Warrior.
All in all I was there for 7 nights with them and I thought I had it all down pat at the hospital with feeds on routines and also the help and support. Every night I had a nurse come and help me get them into a feeding pattern and I thought, great this is gonna be a breeze.
Well home time it was and boy did things change from the hospital. Now I’m not here to bag anyone. He did cook me dinners and made me coffee when I needed one. Im not saying he didn’t help but he rarely did and people know what I went through at this stage.
I was doing a majority of it by myself. I had to switch to bottle as I couldn’t produce enough milk – Yes I know I was shocked as well. The days were ok but the nights were horrendous. I was doing all the night feeds and changing, settling and all the hard work and was surviving on about 3 hours sleep every night. This went on for weeks and I couldn’t function and was getting snappy at everyone. All I wanted was sleep but couldn’t as I knew I had to keep going. I remember one night Zoe would not take her bottle and she cried for 3 hours straight. I rocked, sang and hoped she would not wake Matteo as this had now thrown them out of routine big time. Nothing was working and I threw her bottle at the wall with the shits – yes I was tired and no one was there to help. He did wake up after I threw it and asked what was wrong then went back to sleep as he had to work. If looks could kill he was a dead man already killed twice over and buried in a bucket of acid. Eventually she settled and I was that rat shit I wanted to sleep but Matteo woke up and he was a good baby to settle, he was easy but she was so stubborn. Once he settled I jumped online to beyond blue and checked symptoms of PND as I wasn’t sure if this was the baby blues, my lack of sleep and shit or real life PND. Did the questionnaire and yep i had all 10 symptoms. I was like FUCK so I sat there and cried myself to sleep until it was feeding time.
Weeks went on, I had some good days and I had bad days and it was worse at night when I had no one. No one to chat to, no one to vent to. Eventually I started putting the twins in their rockers with propped up towels to feed them whilst I scrolled FB- thank god for the night owl friends who would chat to me in-between burping and all and I vented it out with them how my day was going and how they were going, looking back no one had ever asked how I was.
I was riddled with anxiety and if you want to know why, sms or inbox me and ask me and I will gladly tell you but a majority of people know why and what he put me through.
I used to love taking them out shopping with me, It’s like you’re a rock star, people would stop and want to look and ask you questions and you would get the same shit over and over again. I had some sarcastic comments thrown back at them when I was in a rush and eventually people learnt to leave me alone whilst out shopping.
I had not told anyone about the anxiety or the way I had felt, not even family knew. I didn’t want to hurt myself or the twins i just wanted to run away constantly. My heart used to beat so fast I could feel it coming out of my chest, I would freak if the baby Dr would come over and she would notice I was sweating bad, she picked up on it as well and told me to go to the Dr’s. I didn’t want to admit it but one day I was sitting in the lounge room with everyone(him and my eldest) and just said to them. Bottles are in the fridge, I need to go to the Dr’s. Please just watch the twins for me.
I went and saw him and just cried and cried and cried.I wanted mum but she wasn’t around to help me. He prescribed me with medication and I took the prescription and went to the chemist. I was embarrassed to hand it over and thought of all the judgement thrown at me. I got the drugs and went home. I didn’t tell anyone why I had went. I really don’t know why I had spent the money on these as I had no intention of taking them. Maybe I thought it was a quick fix I dunno. What was worse was I have a 4cm gap between my abdominal muscles because the twins stretched them that much. So after I had the twins, my belly still stuck out and if I had lose fitting clothes on, I would have random strangers and mostly women ask when I was due. When it was either once or twice a day, it does get your confidence so low you just want to fix it. When I went back to work I was asked constantly and I would then put them in their place and say No, I was just fat but thanks for pointing out how I look. They would either stumble their words or walk away with embarrassment. I felt like shit and I wasn’t getting the support or the confidence I thought I would get from someone.
One night I was up doing the nights again and jumped online to research some stuff and I came across an english Blogger named Sam Avery- he has twins the same age as me. As I was reading i was laughing at what he was going through and It was the first time I had laughed in a long time. So I messaged him to thank him, I got a reply and was over the moon thinking I was some big superstar. The next day I told everyone at home about how funny he is but I didn’t get the same reaction and thought fuck you, this guy is hilarious. His blogs are real and it does give you hope that someone else out there is doing it as well. I researched more blogs and came across Constance Hall. She’s an Aussie blogger and so real and honest, I feel in love with her – No not literally you goose. Her blogs were so inspiring and know she went through PND as well and has twins just made me connect. Not everyone had the same taste as me but she got me through quite a lot. I changed my way of thinking and let go of quite a bit and looked for the positives in things I did and put the negatives to bed. Everyday I told myself I was doing an awesome job and the kids will one day see that. It works, trust me. It’s the power of the mind. I love quotes and words and would always find meaning in them. I didn’t take the medication that was prescribed but to anyone that wants to, that’s fine by me, whatever gets you through it. Everyone is different and has different battles.
I eventually told people what I was feeling and how shit I felt and I was a worthless mother and so forth and received the support from a great bunch of people who I have mentioned in previous blogs. I love you all to bits. Lisa, Angelina, Martti, Lori, Michelle, Silvana. You guys helped me become who I am today xo.
So as I write this blog for mums and also dads to know what I went through, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Get help if you need it.
Change your mindset and don’t give up. Don’t be stubborn, you are beautiful and are doing a fantastic job at what you’re doing. We are not all fuckin perfect. Somedays my kids are absolute turds, my eldest can be a shit head but they know I love them to the earths end. Parenting is the hardest job in the world and if you love your kids and would do anything for them – YOU ARE DOING IT RIGHT.
I’m 39 years old, my stomach resembles a saggy war wound but I have carried 4 babies, my tits arent perky but I have tried to breast feed 4 babies, My hair looks like a mess in the mornings, I wear mismatch PJ’s, I drink a cheeky red wine or alcoholic beverage (WILD TURKEY) on weekends at night, sometimes ill sneak one in midweek, I exercise when I can, I work 40 hours per week, I parent the rest of the time,I do the god damn best I can and am proud of myself and all my kids.
Until the next one….