I live in the UK and mental health isn’t spoken about enough over here in my opinion. There seems to be a certain stigma around it and a feeling of embarrassment if you have any form of mental illness.

When my husband and I decided to start planning for a family, I had decided to seek therapy so I could clear away certain issues I had before I became a mum so I could give my baby the best version of me.

After 2 years in therapy I was really proud of the hard work and love I had put in for myself and a month before my baby was due, I stopped seeing my therapist as she and I believed it had reached its natural end and she was very pleased with the progress I had made.

My pregnancy wasn’t totally smooth sailing and I suffered from nausea every day from month 3 to month 7 and had constant bleeds which resulted in being admitted to hospital overnight, each time. 

I was booked in to be induced due to the many bleeds I had, but my waters broke 2 weeks early and my baby was born on the 14th November 2019.  I had an epidural, so the birth was painless and calm. She was beautiful and had so much hair!!

They put her in my arms and I simply couldn’t believe that after years of trying, I finally had my baby girl in my arms.

A few minutes after I first held her, they took her off to be weighed and I needed to be stitched up.

While they were stitching me up, I started vomiting heavily for a few minutes.  It eventually stopped and I coughed, and the midwife advised me that I had started to bleed. Pretty normal stuff after giving birth I assumed.  A few minutes later the bleeding hadn’t stopped and unknown to me I had started to have a major hemorrhage. I turned to look at my husband who gave me a reassuring smile but I could tell he looked worried. The midwife looked concerned so she called in her senior, who pressed the emergency button immediately. 

Approximately 6 doctors rushed in discussing and arguing and poking me with needles. I was scared and didn’t know what was going on. I looked at my husband who looked very concerned. 

They rushed me to theatre leaving my husband literally holding the baby and looking very scared.

I was told I suffered a major hemorrhage and I lost nearly 3 litres of blood. 

The midwife had later told me that I was lucky to still be here.

I stayed in the hospital for a week after that with my husband as he had to do all the feeds and nappy changes whilst I recovered. I still hadn’t held my baby or even kissed her.

I was desperate to get home and the first time we walked into our house with our baby I felt relieved and happy and thought the nightmare was behind me.

I was told by all my friends with children, that I would feel amazing and happy and this would be the best moment of my life.

A few days went by and I couldn’t do anything for her as I was so weak still. 

A few weeks went by and I felt nothing towards her. Where was the immediate love and bond that everyone told me I was going to feeI? I didn’t want to hold her as I was too scared as I didn’t know what I was doing.

A month went by and I felt the same. I cried every day. I was nervous and scared around the baby. 

During the night feeds I felt so alone and scared as I didn’t know what I was doing and the lack of sleep  was slowing my recovery. I had lost all my breast milk due to amount I bled after the birth so was bottle feeding but was being told constantly how breast feeding was the best and I needed to try and pump but I didn’t even want to get out of bed let alone pump milk.

I often wondered if it would have been better for my baby if I hadn’t survived that day at the hospital and then I immediately felt guilt for thinking those thoughts. I was clearly and awful mother.

I wondered everyday why I didn’t feel love or a bond and where my maternal instincts were?

I was angry that all the hard work I had done in therapy had been reversed and it felt like I was back to square one. I wondered why all my friends who were new mothers were recovered and doing so well and had lots of happy social media pictures of their new baby and kept asking me how amazing I must feel?!

But I wasn’t in love or happy, I was in agony, both physically and mentally.

I had 2nd degree tears from the birth and then the subsequent treatment in theatre. 

My arms were bruised from all the needle holes where they had tried to find a vein in theatre for a cannula but my veins had collapsed due to the blood loss so they couldn’t find one.

I had my husband, family and friends showing me endless support as they just thought I was exhausted as I hadn’t expressed how I felt. Despite all their support I felt so alone and lonely. 

I cried constantly everyday.

After 6 weeks I eventually asked one of the midwives for help and they arranged for home visits from various departments and therapy sessions with trained hospital staff.

The level of support they have shown me has been exceptional. 

Physically I have only just started to recover and went to my first exercise class the other day which was very hard but felt great!

Mentally I am in a much better place and now realise that post-natal depression is normal and lots of women experience it.  That the dark thoughts I felt were normal and having a baby, whilst being amazing, is also one of the scariest and hardest thing a woman goes through and not being too hard on yourself Is really important for the emotional and mental side of things. 

I wish that the subject was discussed pre-birth, so that more women ask for help sooner and are reassured that any sad or low feelings they have don’t make them a bad mother and that the hormones, any pain relief methods and certainly any trauma they might experience, could all contribute to post-natal depression. 

That it’s ok not to feel sunshine and rainbows towards your baby and sometimes the love grows over time and that is ok.

My baby is now 3 months old and I love seeing her cheeky smile first thing in the morning, giving her cuddles and the smell of her hair makes my heart melt.

I wrote the below poem to my baby (her name is Phoenix) that not only reflects what her name represents but also the difficult time I experienced both in and out of hospital. (the sun represents my husband and the amazing job he did in looking after me and the baby).

We soared to the sun my love and he protected us.

I joined you from the ashes, for it is was not my time yet.

We’ll fight the good fight.

No matter the trials, we will endure, be hopeful and be reborn each time.

My Phoenix