8th October + (The Beginning of My Post-Natal Depression)

Nivana Jade
Jan 15, 2017
9 min read

... And there I was, in bed with the baby I grew inside me for the past year and Andy next to me... In our moment.

I instantly put her to my breast to feed...

She wasn't interested.

The Midwife said "it's normal that they don't feed straight away, so don't worry."

Ok.. That's fine.

We were told that we were being moved into the ward and Andy had to leave for home.

That was it.

What was this body I was in?

I felt my tummy... It didn't feel right. It was wiggly and hollow.

I felt sick... Even though I tried to get through a piece of toast (which just wasn't the best thing to have after all of my energy, sugar, fluid and hunger getting taken away from my when pushing out a thing though my vagina).

I needed to wee.

I went into the toilet cubical which was in the birthing room to go for a wee.

Oh my god. Painful walks to the toilet as a brand new mum.

My stitches were fresh and tight (the midwife complimented my vagina when the doctor was stitching me up "That's so good, it looks like you've never had a baby it's so neat and tight") ....

I weed. My first wee as a new mum.

But oh my god. No one told me this..

I bled like Cary

Not like a period

Fresh running blood EVERYWHERE.

Oh my god.

Am I going to die?

And there was me (the clean freak as I was) bending down with the tissues to clean up the mess, to find I was dribbling more blood.

A new midwife came in, I felt so bad "I'm so sorry, but I'm literally bleeding everywhere? Is THIS normal?"

"Yes, yes, no need to worry. I'll clean it up! It's my job!" she was so comforting.

So a nurse with a wheelchair came into my room to move me downstairs.

I've never been into hospital before.

I sat down and they gave Bonnie back to me wrapped in the blanket that my great great Nan knitted for her.

Everyone eyed that blanket, but it's my blanket... Well, Bonnie's blanket.

We were wheeled out, the girls at the desk said "congratulations" ... I felt important. It was MY moment of glory.

I was put into the ward, Bonnie was next to me in those plastic box's. This was 6am.

Andy was escorted out until visiting times at 9am (I recently signed a petition for partners to stay with the mother's till whenever).

Babies screaming and crying everywhere. I stayed awake. I couldn't sleep.

What if someone came and swapped my baby with another? After all, she is very beautiful.

I messaged him : "hurry up and come back, I'm so tired and I just need you."

We live about 10 minutes away from Torbay Hospital via bus.

So here I was, in bed, with my 'fresh from the vagina' baby.

She started crying.

Oh god.

How do I pick up a baby?

I wasn't taught this in my classes?!

So I looked at the woman across from me (beautiful with long blonde hair who had a little boy) I was hoping she'd be nice and told me what to do..

Nope.

Apparently mother's in the ward are very 'to themselves'... I hardly blame them, they've just gone through a traumatic experience (vaginal birth and caesarean).

Ok.

I laid their trying my hardest to comfort her without moving too much because I was still in pain.

Luckily Andy appeared and I have never been so happy to see him.

He picked her up and rocked her to sleep.

I was able to have my '40 winks'.. I just wanted to be home. I hate the hospital.

Right, lets try feeding again,

Put her head to my breast, nipple to mouth.... AAANNND

Nothing.

She coughed quite a bit

And then with a help from a lady, she vomited up a lot of mucus.. Bless her.

Why wasn't she wanting food?

I said to the midwife who came over and said what was happening..

It seemed the answer every time I asked was "It's natural they don't want to feed"

Fair enough, she had Fetal Distress...

But I wanted to breast feed her!

I wanted to stand with mothers everywhere and protest about freedom to breastfeed anywhere!

Be an 'earth mother'.

Catriona came up to see myself and Bonnie.. Again bless her.. Not during visiting times..

I asked if I could take Bonnie outside and I wasn't allowed.

I went to see her myself instead.

I said she can come over later this evening.

I requested to go home (since it's now 3pm and been 12 hours).

Knowing full well that she hasn't fed I was discharged with the advice of

'read this leaflet about hand expressing'..

Great.

We got home, I was so tired.

All I wanted was a shower and bed..

Oh.

Andy's family came over.. Literally, the moment we came through the door.

F***.

Right, lets be the non-tired and happy Niv who is an amazing host.

So we had everyone over.

....All I wanted was my mum and my family.

Ok. I need a shower.

So I had one.. And I came back to everyone watching the football and Bonnie being passed around.

I wanted to sleep.

Catriona came over as they were leaving, FINALLY. She was able to see me and the baby.

*Bonnie screams*

Oh my god.

What?!

WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?!

Catriona held her and rocked her to sleep.

I had the idea to use the breast pump and get some Colostrum out for her to drink out of the MAAM bottle.

She had it.

Still she screamed. Oh my god.

I didn't know what to do or think, I just wanted to sleep.

Catriona left and I still kept trying to breastfeed... But nothing.

She hadn't fed for 12 hours now.

I knew something wasn't right.

All night she was screaming, Andy and I argued from exhaustion and tiredness.

At midnight I had to ring my grandparents to come down and help us with making a bottle and settling our nerves down.

My nan bottle fed her and she was better after having SOMETHING to eat. (I did ask if someone at the hospital could give her some formula to have before we left home so she doesn't starve).

When they left... She screamed again.

We stayed awake all night.

Pooing black tar (meconium) every hour, weeing and crying non stop.. It was tiring.

I felt evil

I felt horrible.

I felt like I was a mistake being a mother...

I was so worried she would die of hunger.

- - - - - - The next day - - - - - - -

MY BOOBS WERE HUGE! Katie Price eat your heart out!

Fulla milk.

Painful and bumpy?

It was the morning when we had someone at the door,

A lady came in and said "I'm a midwife, I believe you're expecting me".

Oh where we?

We certainly were not expecting company.

I explained what happened after she went through her list of what she had to go through with the system of 'midwives'.

I explained what happened last night..

I practically got the second degree about giving her formula and not 'breast', she didn't know what the formula was that we gave her (it was a new brand of sheep milk powder because I'm lactose intolerant, we thought she could very well be too).

So after the whole 'breast is best' lecture (which I knew and I WANTED TO DO) I felt like shit.

'Well, I'm a shit mum who had to give her baby formula for the first night because no one helped with feeding her before we were discharged and I didn't want her to starve and potentially die.'

That was what I was thinking, and couldn't understand anything any of the fucking midwives said, they all contradicted each other.

'Use nipple guards, don't use nipple guards, read up about hand expressing, keep putting the nipple to her lips'

Boniver didn't want to know my f***ing nipple.

What was the point if my breasts weren't wanted.

So we stuck with nipple guards the next day.

SHE FINALLY FED!

OH MY GOD.

What a weird sensation..

I suddenly felt very very sick. Tired. She'd cry my head in places would vibrate and ache.

I wanted to sleep.

Andy bless him tried to keep her company BUT she HAD to have my boob.

I hated it.

Little did I know, it was my milk coming through.

Our first two weeks weren't really 'our' two weeks because EVERYONE KEPT WANTING TO COME OVER AND WE DIDN'T HAVE A ROUTINE.

Said it.

For 14 weeks now I have never said what was the starting of my depression.. It was the fact that I wasn't with JUST Andy.

And if people asked and I said that we wanted time to ourselves.. They got shitty and were 'disappointed' because I was losing my sanity.

The nipple guards just weren't enough.

She was hungry ALL THE TIME.

She started getting jaundice... I f***ed up being a mother.

The second week we had Andy's mum who helped me out a lot.

'Do what YOU feel comfortable with doing'

I spent a fair few days contradicting myself and wandering what people would have thought on my judgement.

Right.

LETS PUMP!

NOTHING IS BETTER THAN MOTHER'S LATTE!

So there I was, watching TV with Andy and his mum,

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

How

BUZZ

many

BUZZ

ounces

BUZZ

should

BUZZ

do?

BUZZ

I'd

BUZZ

say

BUZZ

about

BUZZ

That machine was f***ing irritating.

Okay, Mum's done you a nice warm bot bot!

She gulped it down.

'Wolfed' to be precise!

Milk out of a human.. 'Human milk' sounds disgusting but we chose to drink animal's milk?

Weird.

I had to hold the teat in my mouth whilst do 500 other things.. And guess what?

My milk taste like Milky Bars.

Yum.

It wasn't a bad smell either.

So she's FINALLY getting what I wanted her to get.

I was soooo much happier.

But everyone kept pestering about putting her to my nipple..

Can't people get it into their f***ing heads?

She wasn't interested thanks to no one helping on day one.

We had to comp her with formula because she was NON STOP hungry.

Never ending hunger.

WHAT THE F***?! WHERE IS IT ALL GOING FROM THIS SMALL STOMACH OF MY DAUGHTERS?

BUZZ

I had to stay up all nights to make at least 2 3-4oz bottles.

I was tired.

I had to message mum at stupid o'clock for reassurance because I felt like a shit mum

I felt shit

I wasn't cut out to be a mum

WHY DID I CHOSE TO BECOME A MOTHER?! I CAN'T DO IT?!

BUZZ

I explained to the midwife about our schedule with breast milk and formula.. It was working so well and I was finally getting sleep.

"You need to pump through the night or else your milk will dry up."

.... What.

So the next few nights I stayed awake to fucking make bottles.

I felt like a cow.

BUZZ

F***ING BUZZ

When we made formula, we followed the instructions and when she was SCREAMING, we were waiting for the fucking bottle to cool down. I wonder how much water we used?

I really couldn't produce much milk all the time, she dried me out and it took my energy... So it ended up that she'd get more formula milk.

Andy had to go back to work..

F*** on my own with a baby and no one to ask for help..

I wasn't eating.

I wasn't sleeping

I looked at my breast pump.. I shivered

I felt sick.

I wanted to die.

The flat was a mess, the housework needed to be done..

But there was me.. On my own in the living room.. Rocking back and forward looking insane.. But I just lost my mind.

My family were so worried, they came over and helped me with EVERYTHING.

I can not thank them enough for that day.

Mum introduced me to 'the pacifier' or a dummy that saves the day EVERY DAY!

She also went to Mothercare to buy me a bottle heater.

WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME OR BUY ME ONE!?

WHAT THE ACTUAL F***?!

LIFE SAVER!

If there is anything I can give advice about BUY A BOTTLE WAMER!

My nan sat down next to me and mum on the other side...

I cried.. I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE.

"Do what?" Nan asked

"I can't pump anymore. I know I know, 'breast is best' but I physically cannot do it. I don't want to wake up to be a milk slave and feel ill and tired. I cannot do it."

I cried into my hands, feeling like a failure.

(Before hand, I wrote a Facebook post about formula and breast milk, my old friend Lauren told me she went straight onto formula. She is my hero, if you're reading this Lauren, Thank you so much. You gave me the courage to decide what to do. I know you're a fantastic mum and I knew that if I did what made me happier, and a good mum too!)

"Oh my god Nivana, most mothers go onto formula." Nan said

"You do what you feel is the fest for you and Bonnie"

I cried with relief "Really? Is it ok if I do that? I don't want her to be low in everything because I chose to go onto bottle instead of breast."

"You do what is best for you Niv, if you can't do it, you can't do it."

Nan said

"It wouldn't make you any less of a mother if you go onto formula. You gave her 2 weeks of breast and all of your antibodies for colds and flues."

Mum said.

I did this, and for a long time, I felt like a very big failure as a mother.

With my beginning, I doubt to this day that I'm a bad mother and that I cannot do it.

But with milk I use formula. It was the best thing I had ever done.. I can see why she was hungry..

.... She's growing rapidly. Defiantly going to be as tall as daddy (he's 6"4).

So mother's or father's, you know what is best for you.

Trust your instincts and don't worry about what others think or say.

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