…Part 2 of Stacey Smith’s Story
So, isolated at home 13 hours a day alone was not how I envisioned my pregnancy or my maternity leave.
Throughout our decade of trying to conceive, negative pregnancy tests, injections, awkward scans, travelling, operations and many a day sick – we hung on to the image that one day we would be holding our own baby. That all of this would be worth it, but never did we think, that the World would come to a halt, and we would be completely on our own.
My maternal health started to decline when I was pregnant, the pandemic brought about many uncertainties. My pregnancy was already classed as high risk because it was IVF, but now there was this deadly virus, and I was consumed with fear and riddled in anxiety.
I have always been someone that needed to be outdoors, especially because I am an office worker, there is just something calming about listening to the trees in the breeze and feeling that fresh air on your face. So, when I was told that I wasn’t even allowed to leave my house for exercise I began to go a little stir crazy.
There were no pregnancy groups, no support groups for new mothers, irregular and inconsistent midwife appointments and a complete lack of care for expecting parents during this time.
My husband was no longer allowed into my maternity appointments, he would sit in the car park and every time I went in, I would pray that something was not wrong with our baby, how would I be expected to leave that room and inform him – alone? To add salt to the wound, the government has declared you were able to visit your mates in the pub but not allowed to accompany your partner in appointments or even to give birth.
Is it any wonder that postnatal depression increased from 10.3% in 2014 to 23.9% in 2020?
Fast forward a little – my due date had been and gone. I was induced in hospital, a terrible experience which later caused PTSD. I was on a ward that was already in special measures but was now struggling with the pressures of the pandemic. I will not go into the details, but needless to say that their lack of care and overall treatment contributed to my postnatal depression.
After a failed induction, my son, was born 16 days overdue and delivered by c-section at 10lb 3.
I was overjoyed but extremely overwhelmed, I had waited so long for this day but the build up to it hadn’t been what anyone dreamed of and to be honest it had taken its toll.
Desperate to leave the hospital and convinced I would feel differently at home, I began to beg the staff to let me leave, teary, emotional, anxious, sick I just wanted the comfort of my own home full expecting I would feel ‘normal’ once there.
If only I knew this was not to be the case.
If only I had the foresight of postnatal depression. If only we were not in a pandemic, and I had proper access to the right care.
I use the word overwhelm a lot… because it is a rollercoaster of overwhelm, with all the terrifying ups and tummy dropping lows. That often leaves you yearning for it to be the way everyone portrayed it to be. A fairytale and happiest of endings to a long and somewhat never-ending story.
In reality, I was so consumed with anxiety that every time my son moved in his cot I would run and throw up. That my whole body hurt, I was fatigued beyond fatigue and my baby slept well. My issue was my brain, it hated me at this moment in time, it wanted to remind me of all the things I had supressed over the years. All the trauma, all the negatives, the doubts, the OCD, anxiety, everything, and anything all at once – I was now in a vicious loop of mind torture.
I was terrified that something was going to happen I couldn’t shake this feeling of impending doom which meant I was often in crisis episodes. From checking my baby was breathing 100 times a day and night, to feeling unable to cope, not able to control my tears, becoming irritable and doubting everything I did.
I had to do a lot of work on myself, it was hard, in fact the hardest thing I have ever done. All whilst caring for a baby alone whilst my husband was at work – the pandemic had stolen so much already but it also meant that I had limited interaction with people, that nobody was able to hold my baby or help take a load off during the early days.
Medication, exercise, routine, counselling, open conversations with my husband and family all helped me.
It was a long road, that was completely unexpected, unwanted, and ruined what should have been an amazing experience, one that we had longed for.
From writing in my journal ‘I have to be here to watch him grow up’, ‘help me’ and feeling so much shame – to openly talking about postnatal depression and wanting to raise awareness.
I am proud of how far I have come. If you are also feeling this way, please seek help. It will be hard, by God it will be the hardest, scariest thing but you will come out the other side.
Trust me when I say, the moment you do it is exhilarating, an incredible and beautiful journey that will shape you into a ‘new version’ of yourself that will positively change your outlook on life going forward.
Hi,
I’m Stacey, I am a SEN mum and the owner of Smiths Writing Services.
I specialise in creating relevant yet optimising content for your business, using your tone of voice and reflecting your brand values. As a highly experienced freelance writer and HR professional, I pride myself on direct and personable communication, packing a punch with a word or two, and supporting business owners to achieve milestones, visions and goals.
I have over 15 years of collective business knowledge and experience and am lucky enough to say that I have worked in some amazing industries during that time, including:
HR
Marketing
Retail
Education & Training
Legal
NHS
Aviation & Aerospace
You can find me at www.smithswritingservices.co.uk