Do you ever ‘check in’ with yourself?
Last week was the UK’s first Maternal Mental Health Awareness Week, and I’ve been reading some very raw and honest stories: first-hand accounts of post-natal depression (PND), medication and breast feeding, and the realities of motherhood when things aren’t falling into place.
My own experience seems insignificant in comparison, and I wasn’t sure I should even write this post. Because I didn’t suffer PND. I’ve had some pretty low ‘lows’ over the last two years, but I’ve always been able to pick myself up. I didn’t seek professional help. I always had somewhere to turn, and someone to listen.
But mental health is so important for every mum, and I think it’s vital that we all share our stories. No matter how insignificant we might think they are.
Soft play centres can be pretty horrific. Never more so than a wet day in London during school holidays. So when I found myself at one on a rainy summer day with my mum-in-law and son, waiting to miscarry and hoping it wouldn’t happen there, I had to shake my head at the absurdity.
I’ve been in limbo before: waiting to find out whether I was BRCA positive, waiting for my UK Indefinite Leave to Remain application to be approved, waiting for mortgage approval and an offer to be accepted and for the agent to hand us the keys.
But the limbo between being told you’ve had a missed miscarriage, and the appointment to surgically manage everything, is a strange and upsetting period I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
When hubby and I went for our 12 week scan I told him I was feeling anxious and I didn’t know why.
‘What’s there to be anxious about?’ he said, giving my hand a squeeze. ‘We’ve done this before, it’s just a baby’.
Except that it wasn’t.