When I finally "came out" I remember well the looks of shock and disbelief. Surely you haven't got postnatal depression said the looks. I could almost imagine the conversations at the toddler groups - "Rhiannon?" "nah she's fine. Isn't she?" "She seems to juggle those twins like a pro-mother".
I was wiping tears and snot, cleaning bums and faces and seeing danger in two corners of the room before it's even happened. I was flying round the place and quickly prioritising who to respond to first; a ninja mother with a samurai and a dagger. I knew I looked like I had it all figured out. I quite liked that. I quite liked that I looked at ease, confident and composed. But those 2 hours at the toddler group - that pretence would leave me absolutely exhausted. If you spent any more than 2 hours with me, you would see that mask begin to slip. There would be a raised voice or rather a shrill scream (from me not them). I would suddenly lose my shit if things weren't going to plan at home. I hate the memories of me absolutely screaming at them. Awful awful awful. Sorry babies :-(
So to combat the crazy mother I was beginning to become at home. I wouldn't spend time at home. I was scared what I might do at home. We would be up and out with our bags packed, 4 changes of clothes, 4 bottles with cooled boiled water and carefully measured formula, 8 nappies (just in case), snacks a plenty, an itinerary that had been researched the night before. We knew where we were going and who we would be seeing. We would be seeing mummies and babies for most of the day and if they were having a well earned rest, we would pull over on the side of the road for our naps. No rest for the wicked or rather no rest for the hyped up, anti depressant fuelled, manic mother. Chop chop and off we go....
When I was home and doing the bedtime routine alone (again), my mask would again start to slip. Bathing two babies, giving them milk, trying to settle them. Singing my 20 lullabies on repeat. You may well have heard my voice crack if you were there. It would crack from utter exhaustion and sometimes no sound would come out as I had nothing left to give.
I would go to bed and begin the worry. I would plan the next day down to the minutest detail, I would analyse every conversation I had had that day. I would not sleep that night but we would be up and out with the changing bag full to bursting the following day. I was a mother fearful of stopping. What would happen if I stopped? If I stopped, I would just give up. I would curl into a ball and give up.
So this was my version of postnatal depression. My version of postnatal depression could easily have been mistaken for high achieving super mother syndrome. Is there such a thing? If not there should be.
It seems I wasn't alone in this state. All over the UK at the same time as me and right this moment mums are powering on and dying inside.
"When visitors came and then as they were leaving I would get
upset as I felt for the short time they were there life was fairly 'normal'." TM
"I used to go into the shower to disguise the noise of me sobbing" AB
" I would keep my phone on silent so I could screen calls/texts. With
my 2nd I joined the world of Facebook so it could be my "normal" mask
to hide behind my posted perfect family life. More often than not the posted
photo would be the minutest time that there was a moment of joy in my sadness". CA
"I kept trying to start "projects"; businesses, new
hobbies, diets. I was desperate to have something that made me more than
"just a Mum". I was obsessive about it, which highlighted my
irritation with everything that my baby did (crying, needing attention, food).
I felt like she was holding me back. Feels awful to say now, but I felt so
angry with her at the time". CJ
"I was stupidly busy; always going to play groups or doing a
project at home - never sitting still so that people couldn't see that I
couldn't relax and be happy". HS
" I would hide behind 'problems'. I had postnatal anxiety with my second and would
obsess over everything. He had colic, silent reflux, tongue tie, problems
feeding, prolonged jaundice, etc..and I would hide behind 'his symptoms' but
really I felt broken and useless inside. If I focused on the physical symptoms
it meant they could be fixed and I didn't have to tell anyone what was really
going on inside me head". NH
"I would have anger outbursts and sleep a lot,. I complained of being tired
a lot and was short with people and generally agitated". KP
"Other than feeding I'd pass
her to anyone who was around, on the guise of them getting a cuddle (only
family friends etc but still, hate to think of it now)." SV
"I was always snappy and irritable which I think is so easy to brush
off". RB
"I didn't want
anyone to hold her as she might cry and I wouldn't be able to deal with it.
More often than not she would cry when others held her so I would rather avoid
it." CA
So - mums, friends, family, GPs, Health Visitors and Midwives - next time you're talking to a mum who looks like she has it down. Next time you're wondering how she does it as she's always busy busy and flying about. Look for the subtle signs. Ask how she is. She might just tell you the truth.
Rhiannon x
