Bethany's Baby Babblings

My return to work is fast looming (is 'fast looming' even a thing? Have I worked that right? Idk whatever) sooooooo this blog will probably become a weekly occurance until I'm back in the swing of it (so that'll be never ha) Anyway. So as I've said before, I've started my perinatal therapy and my counsellor is an absolute gem. My aim after my first session (well second but the my first session was more of a getting to know you kinda thiiiiing) is to practice grounding. Grounding is detaching from my overwhelming emotional pain so I can gain control over my feelings and have a sense of control. There's loads of different ways to "ground" and my task for the next two weeks is to see which ones work for me and to practice them several times a day. I have also been instructed to stop metaphorically beating myself up, calling myself daft/silly/stupid and apologising for my feelings. That is a 25 year habit that'll be tough to crack. Anyway, ...

Squidge is sleeping ok for both sets of grandparents but not when she's at home. So it's clearly something I am doing wrong. Except I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I don't know what I'm doing full stop. It's 11.23pm and I've only just got her to sleep. She was yawning and rubbing her eyes at 6.50pm and we put her down to sleep at 7pm yet the hysterics started and didn't stop. It's been like this for two or three weeks now and it's really wearing me down. I can feel myself spiralling again and it's poop. I just want to have a handle on things. I want to have the patience and perseverance and positivtity to deal with curveballs. Instead I'm just criticising and catastrophising (I really didn't mean to go to town on the alliteration just then. If only I had a natural talent for parenting rather than basic literary devices!) Thank god my therapy starts in a week and a bit. I really hope she can fix my thinking. My therapist i...

My depression has really been biting me in the arse this week. I wish the waiting list for the therapy wasn't so bloody long. The bad thoughts have been getting louder and I haven't got the strength to ignore them. (Don't worry I'm not having thoughts of hurting myself or my kiddo. I have had self harming urges in the past and it's really scary but I think my antidepressants have stopped those urges) Basically I've managed to convince myself that my daughter doesn't like me. Even as I'm typing this out I realise how ridiculous that sounds. But my brain is broken and that's what it's doing. Wiggles is always so happy and smiley but recently she's been crying, angry and frustrated, until someone else is with her then she's fine. I know I shouldn't be taking this personally but PND is a bitch and overrides all rational thoughts. Those close to me have comforted me and reasoned with me, saying it's because I'm her mum so sh...

I've realised that I haven't mentioned my mental health for a while. Probably because that although my antidepressants are keeping me stable I am STILL on the waiting list for therapy so I'm kind of stuck in limbo. I'm better in the sense that I feel comfortable being alone with squidge now. But the negative scary shitty thoughts are still there and I don't want to be on antidepressants for the rest of my life so therapy would be really helpful. So I will keep waiting. Thank god I have an amazing support network because without them I would have definitely had more of a mental breakdown and maybe acted on my self-harm urges. Hmm this post ended up being a bit of a debbie Downer so I took a photo of me and monkey (she's asleep on me as I'm writing this) Please excuse my makeup free face exposing the bags under my eyes and spots on my chin. Let's be honest, you're paying more attention to little miss scratchy nose anyway ❤️

It's reet weird. This week I've been the worst anxiety wise since my rock bottom back in Jan, I pretty much spent all day Wednesday and Thursday crying and worrying. However today I woke up feeling like I've been hit over the head with a confidence stick. Which was great because it meant that me and wiggles could attend our very first rhythm time class, woohoo! Things Monkey Liked: • pretty spinning lights • the multi-coloured parachute • the bouncy song • staring at all the other babies and all the other mums and pretty much ignoring me Things Monkey Didn't Like: • feathers (which makes sense as her dad is scared of feathers. don't ask) • clapping her hands at the end of each activity. rigor mortis set in for some reason and she refused to move her arms Things Mummy Liked: • battling the churning of my stomach and the thoughts saying "it's too much, you can't do this" and dragging my arse there • the cute sticker given for monkey ...

This week I left the house by myself with my baby for the first time. I only went to the end of the road and back again and then for a sit down in the village green outside my house. Like a half mile round trip all in all. But I survived and so did my baba. I know it doesn't sound much but to me it was such an achievement. My post natal depression has made even the smallest of things for well people, a monumental task which evokes such anxiety for me. It was a sunny morning walk, a bit on the nippy side but nothing a big furry onesie couldn't sort (for my daughter...not myself...pity) and I enjoyed the fresh air. Also right, dog poo has always been annoying. However when you're trekking a pram about it is rage inducing! I was having to do some formula one style swerving to avoid getting shite all my pram.  It's quite weird mentioning poo in a post that isn't my daughter's. Rather refreshing. (Rather refreshing?! I am clearly watching too much Ca...

I lost my safety blanket this week, Dale went back to work. He's been an absolute rock for the past six weeks. So obviously this is when my post natal depression really cranked up a gear. Total panic set in. I felt sick with anxiety. Every minute felt like hours. I was exhausted yet I couldn't sleep as my mind was racing. I felt lost and hopeless. I seemed to be doing everything wrong and I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't want to leave the house because I didn't want people watching me, judging me for being a shit mum. Luckily my GP is on it and super attentive (she already sorted my counselling) and prescribed me with anti-depressants. Unluckily, the side effects are making me feel worse - even tireder, headaches, groggy. They should wear off in a week or two, then the tablets will start to do their job a week or two after that. Then hopefully the thoughts and feelings above will be under control and eventually go away. I've titled this post Rock Botto...

When I went for my psychological assessment to determine whether I needed counselling (spoiler alert: I do), the counsellor (let's call her Barbara) was so lovely, sympathetic and understanding. The main thing that Barbara said that really stuck with me was that "babies cry" To you it may seem obvious but to me it was a bloody revelation. The penny dropped. Babies cry! And that's OK! It's not my job to prevent crying (that would require being able to read my child's mind) but more to try to stop the crying and/or comfort her through the crying. Because, you know, sometimes babies cry for no damn reason. They cry for one reason, you sort it out, then they change their mind and want the opposite and cry again. Eventually they'll stop crying...until they start crying again. Those two words have helped me so much. I mean obviously the post natal depression is still there but it's the second tool in my arsenal to help me combat it. (the first too...

She's four weeks old today. Four weeks of motherhood and I have been unofficially diagnosed with post natal depression. I say unofficially because no-one has outright said it to me but my healthcare visitor and GP have referred me for perinatal psychological therapy. And I'm ticking most of the boxes of the symptoms. I was half expecting to have post natal depression (let's use the abbreviation from now on, PND) anyway due to a history of depression and self-harming, and just being generally anxious day to day. My sister passed away 7 weeks before my daughter arrived and I tried my hardest to stay strong mentally, emotionally, physically to protect my daughter. So once she was born it was obvious that my mind and body just broke down. I realise this post isn't in keeping with my usual tone of self deprecating humour but I think that the more I talk about my PND the more I can take steps to get through it. Plus I don't want it to be this to be a 'big dirty ...