A week passed and I hated every minute of my new life. My C-Section was healing well but my goodness I have never been in so much pain. I couldn’t get in or out of bed without crying, I couldn’t bend down, I couldn’t sit on the toilet without screeching out in pain. I spent a week doing a night share with my partner but I had to stay downstairs as I couldn’t get in the bed. I was severely sleep deprived and in agony. I kept asking myself why I have done this to myself, what was wrong with my old life? I romanticised parts of my life that weren’t even there. I kept saying to my partner that we could have gone traveling, we could have gone on holiday for a few months instead of choosing to have a baby, yet these things weren’t even on our to do list in the first place and were never going to happen. I dreaded the nights, as soon as it started to get darker, I would feel an overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety because I knew the nights would be difficult and sleepless. I felt like I was the only person awake at that time and felt jealous of all of those people that got a restful night.
I wanted my life as I knew it, to end. I wanted my baby to be taken away and I wanted to escape every part of my new normal…
My partner forced me to seek help, without that I genuinely don’t think I would have found the strength to stay alive. I phoned my GP but I couldn’t get the words out without breaking down crying. I needed to be careful with what I said as I didn’t want to be hospitalised or have my baby taken away. I explained that I felt hopeless, I wasn’t connecting with my baby and I hated my new life. The doctor asked if I had any plans to harm myself, which I replied “no”. This wasn’t true but I couldn’t say it out loud. She was extremely sympathetic and understanding which made me feel less like a failure. I was prescribed medication to help with my new emotions but I soon realised these weren’t right for me, which made me feel even worse as I had put so much hope on the prospect of these making me feel better; now the weight of the world felt even heavier.
The health visitor came around roughly 2 weeks after Otto was born and I tried desperately to feel something other than empty but I couldn’t hide it. She had me do a Postnatal Depression test which I scored high for which actually made me feel validated in some ways as it wasn’t all in my head. On a side note, I have heard negative stories about health visitors but mine was actually lovely and understanding. The health visitor came every week to make sure I was coping and to help with advice etc which I was grateful for but nothing was actually changing the way I felt towards Otto…